The Best Of Us Must

And Harry, With The Unerring Skill Of The Seeker, Caught The Wand In His Free Hand As Voldemort Fell Backward, Arms Splayed, The Slit Pupils Of The Scarlet Eyes Rolling Upward. Tom Riddle Hit The Floor With A Mundane Finality, His Body Feeble And Shrunken, The White Hands Empty, The Snakelike Face Vacant And Unknowing. Voldemort Was Dead, Killed By His Own Rebounding Curse, And Harry Stood With Two Wands In His Hands, Staring Down At His Enemy's Shell.

I'm Not A Billionaire, What A Tragedy.

I Think I'll Just Go Down And Have Some Pudding And Wait For It All To Turn Up - It Always Does In The End.

Sport Is A Very Important Subject At School, That's Why I Gave Quidditch Such An Important Place At Hogwarts. I Was Very Bad In Sports, So I Gave Harry A Talent I Would Really Loved To Have. Who Wouldn't Want To Fly?

Er — Have The Bludgers Ever Killed Anyone?” Harry Asked, Hoping He Sounded Offhand. “never At Hogwarts. We’ve Had A Couple Of Broken Jaws But Nothing Worse Than That. You Don’t Have To Worry About The Quaffle Or The Bludgers —” “— Unless They Crack My Head Open.” “don’t Worry, The Weasleys Are More Than A Match For The Bludgers — I Mean, They’re Like A Pair Of Human Bludgers Themselves.