Be Good Now, Potty...weasel King.

But People Only Die In Proper Duels, You Know, With Real Wizards. The Most You And Malfoy’ll Be Able To Do Is Send Sparks At Each Other. Neither Of You Knows Enough Magic To Do Any Real Damage. I Bet He Expected You To Refuse, Anyway.” “and What If I Wave My Wand And Nothing Happens?” “throw It Away And Punch Him On The Nose,” Ron Suggested.

He Was Tall, Thin, And Very Old, Judging By The Silver Of His Hair And Beard, Which Were Both Long Enough To Tuck Into His Belt. He Was Wearing Long Robes, A Purple Cloak That Swept The Ground, And High-heeled, Buckled Boots. His Blue Eyes Were Light, Bright, And Sparkling Behind Half-moon Spectacles And His Nose Was Very Long And Crooked, As Though It Had Been Broken At Least Twice. This Man's Name Was Albus Dumbledore.

As For The Fact That Malfoy, Crabbe, And Goyle Apeared To Be Going Their Different Ways When They Were Usually Inseparable, These Things Happened As People Got Older--ron And Hermione, Harry Reflected Sadly, Were Living Proof.

We're All Human, Aren't We? Every Human Life Is Worth The Same, And Worth Saving.

We All Know That The People We Love Are Mortal, We All Know We’re Mortal, We Know It’s Going To End; You Cannot Prepare Yourself For It.