At Fourteen, You Really Do Start Realising

Only One Thing Mattered: This Was Not A Horcrux. Dumbledore Had Weakened Himself By Drinking That Horrible Potion For Nothing. Harry Crumpled The Parchment In His Hand And His Eyes Burned With Tears As Behind Him Fang Began To Howl.

Harry, Despite Your Privileged Insight Into Voldemort’s World (which, Incidentally, Is A Gift Any Death Eater Would Kill To Have), You Have Never Been Seduced By The Dark Arts, Never, Even For A Second, Shown The Slightest Desire To Become One Of Voldemort’s Followers!” “of Course I Haven’t!” Said Harry Indignantly. “he Killed My Mum And Dad!” “you Are Protected, In Short, By Your Ability To Love!” Said Dumbledore Loudly.

Sure You Can Manage That Broom, Potter?" Said A Cold, Drawling Voice. Draco Malfoy Had Arrived For A Closer Look, Crabbe And Goyle Right Behind Him. "yeah, Reckon So," Said Harry Casually. "got Plenty Of Special Features, Hasn't It?" Said Malfoy, Eyes Glittering Maliciously. "shame It Doesn't Come With A Parachute - In Case You Get Too Near A Dementor." Crabbe And Goyle Sniggered. "pity You Can't Attach An Extra Arm To Yours, Malfoy," Said Harry. "then It Could Catch The Snitch For You.

I Don't Care!" Harry Yelled At Them, Snatching Up A Lunascope And Throwing It Into The Fireplace. "i've Had Enough, I've Seen Enough, I Want Out, I Want It To End, I Don't Care Anymore!" "you Do Care," Said Dumbledore. He Had Not Flinched Or Made A Single Move To Stop Harry Demolishing His Office. His Expression Was Calm, Almost Detached. "you Care So Much You Feel As Though You Will Bleed To Death With The Pain Of It.

Why, Dear Boy, We Don't Send Wizards To Azkaban Just For Blowing Up Their Aunts.