For Some To Love You, Some Must

He Accused Me Of Being Dumbledore's Man Through And Through." "how Very Rude Of Him." "i Told Him I Was." Dumbledore Opened His Mouth To Speak And Then Closed It Again. Fawkes The Phoenix Let Out A Low, Soft, Musical Cry. To Harry's Intense Embarrassment, He Suddenly Realized That Dumbledore's Bright Blue Eyes Looked Rather Watery, And Stared Hastily At His Own Knee. When Dumbledore Spoke, However, His Voice Was Quite Steady. "i Am Very Touched, Harry.

I Don't Feel Quite Normal If I Haven't Written For A While. I Doubt I Will Ever Again Write Anything As Popular As The "harry" Books, But I Can Live With That Thought Quite Easily. By The Time I Stop Writing About Harry, I Will Have Lived With Him For 13 Years, And I Know It's Going To Feel Like A Bereavement. So I'll Probably Take Some Time Off To Grieve, And Then On With The Next Book!

Jealous?...of What? I Don't Want A Foul Scar Right Across My Head, Thanks. I Don't Think Getting Your Head Cut Open Makes You That Special, Myself.

At That Moment, Harry Fully Understood For The First Time Why People Said Dumbledore Was The Only Wizard Voldemort Had Ever Feared. The Look Upon Dumbledore's Face As He Stared Down At The Unconscious Form Of Mad-eye Moody Was More Terrible Than Harry Could Have Ever Imagined. There Was No Benign Smile Upon Dumbledore's Face, No Twinkle In The Eyes Behind The Spectacles. There Was Cold Fury In Every Line Of The Ancient Face; A Sense Of Power Radiated From Dumbledore As Though He Were Giving Off Burning Heat.

I Write Nearly Every Day. Some Days I Write For Ten Or Eleven Hours. Other Days I Might Only Write For Three Hours. It Really Depends On How Fast The Ideas Are Coming.