Bigotry is probably the thing I detest most.

And what in the name of Merlin’s most baggy Y Fronts was that about?

I loved writing for kids, I loved talking to children about what I'd written, I don't want to leave that behind.

Am I about to discover where you, Ron, and Hermione disappeared to while you were supposed to be in the back room of Fred and George's shop?" How did you...?" Harry, please. You're talking to the man who raised Fred and George.

She navigated away from the Parish Council message board and dropped into her favorite medical website, where she painstakingly entered the words "brain" and "death" in the search box. The suggestions were endless. Shirley scrolled through the possibilities, her mild eyes rolling up and down, wondering to which of these deadly conditions, some of them unpronounceable, she owed her present happiness.

Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy-" "Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing." Percy scowled. "That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley. "Mum!" said Fred as though he'd only just spotted her and seizing her hand too. "How really corking to see you-

By Gryffindor, the bravest were Prized far beyond the rest; For Ravenclaw, the cleverest Would always be the best; For Hufflepuff, hard workers were Most worthy of admission; And power-hungry Slytherin Loved those of great ambition.