A Lemon Drop. They're A

We Slytherins Are Brave, Yes, But Not Stupid. For Instance, Given The Choice, We Will Always Choose To Save Our Own Necks.

The Realization Of What Would Happen Next Settled Gradually Over Harry In The Long Minutes, Like Softly Falling Snow. "i've Got To Go Back, Haven't I?" "that Is Up To You." "i've Got A Choice?" "oh Yes." Dumbledore Smiled At Him. "we Are In King's Cross, You Say? I Think That If You Decided Not To Go Back, You Would Be Able To…let's Say…board A Train." "and Where Would It Take Me?" "on," Said Dumbledore Simply.

Don't Worry. You're Just As Sane As I Am.

Hand Over The Prophecy And No One Need Get Hurt," Said Malfoy Coolly. It Was Harry's Turn To Laugh. "yeah, Right!" He Said. "i Will Give You This - Prophecy, Is It? And You'll Just Let Us Skip Off Home, Will You?

Are You Trying To Weasel Out Of Showing Us Any Of This Stuff?" Said Zacharias Smith. "here's An Idea," Said Ron Loudly, "why Don't You Shut Your Mouth?" "well, We've All Turned Up To Learn From Him, And Now He's Telling Us He Can't Really Do Any Of It," He Said. "that's Not What He Said," Said Fred Weasley. "would You Like Us To Clean Out Your Ears For You?" Inquired George, Pulling A Long And Lethal-looking Metal Instrument From Inside One Of The Zonko's Bags. "or Any Part Of Your Body, Really, We're Not Fussy Where We Stick This," Said Fred.