Like A Tongue On Frozen Steel, Like

He [uncle Vernon] Held Up The Envelope In Which Mrs. Weasley’s Letter Had Come, And Harry Had To Fight Down A Laugh. Every Bit Of It Was Covered In Stamps Except For A Square Inch On The Front, Into Which Mrs. Weasley Had Squeezed The Dursleys’ Address In Minute Writing. “she Did Put Enough Stamps On, Then,” Said Harry, Trying To Sound As Though Mrs. Weasley’s Was A Mistake Anyone Could Make.

So After E, It’s A For ‘acceptable,’ And That’s The Last Pass Grade, Isn’t It?” “yep,” Said Fred, Dunking An Entire Roll In His Soup, Transferring It To His Mouth, And Swallowing It Whole. “then You Get P For ‘poor’ ” — Ron Raised Both His Arms In Mock Celebration — “and D For ‘dreadful.’ ” “and Then T,” George Reminded Him. “t?” Asked Hermione, Looking Appalled. “even Lower Than A D? What On Earth Does That Stand For?” “ ‘troll,’ ” Said George Promptly.

My Head Of House Said I Lacked Certain Necessary Qualities...like The Ability To Behave Myself.

There Was No Press Involvement, There Was No Pressure. Life Was Very Pure And It Became More Complicated.

Bless My Soul,” Whispered The Old Bartender, “harry Potter . . . What An Honor.