Dudley Thought For A Moment. It Looked

Maybe A Man In A Million Could Unite The Hallows, Harry. I Was Fit Only To Possess The Meanest Of Them, The Least Extraordinary. I Was Fit To Own The Elder Wand, And Not To Boast Of It, And Not To Kill With It. I Was Permitted To Tame And To Use It, Because I Took It, Not For Gain, But To Save Others From It.

Professor Snape Was Forcing Them To Research Antidotes. They Took This One Seriously, As He Had Hinted That He Might Be Poisoning One Of Them Before Christmas To See If Their Antidote Worked.

Deliberately Causing Mayhem In Snape's Potions Class Was About As Safe As Poking A Sleeping Dragon In The Eye.

Time Is Galleons, Little Brother.

Every Writer Must Have A Chip Of Ice In His Heart.