I've Only Suffered Writer's Block Badly Once,

'tell Me One Last Thing,' Said Harry. 'is This Real? Or Has This Been Happening Inside My Head?' Dumbledore Beamed At Him, And His Voice Sounded Loud And Strong In Harry's Ears Even Though The Bright Mist Was Descending Again, Obscuring His Figure. 'of Course It Is Happening Inside Your Head, Harry, But Why On Earth Should That Mean It Is Not Real?'

It Frightened People When You Were Honest; It Shocked Them.

Can't Stay Long, Mother," He Said. "i'm Up Front, The Prefects Have Got Two Compartments To Themselves-" "oh, Are You A Prefect, Percy?" Said One Of The Twins, With An Air Of Great Surprise. "you Should Have Said Something, We Had No Idea." "hang On, I Think I Remember Him Saying Something About It," Said The Other Twin. "once-" "or Twice-" "a Minute-" "all Summer-" "oh, Shut Up," Said Percy The Prefect.

Rita Looked As Though She Would Have Liked Nothing Better Than To Seize The Paper Umbrella Sticking Out Of Hermione's Drink And Thrust It Up Her Nose.

Everything Was Curved To Fit The Walls: The Stove, The Sink And The Cupboards, And All Of It Had Been Painted With Flowers, Insects And Birds In Bright Primary Colours.