Oh, Shut Up Weatherby.

Sirius's Gaunt Face Broke Out Into The First True Smile Harry Had Seen Upon It. The Difference It Made Was Startling, As Though A Person Ten Years Younger Were Shining Through The Starved Mask; For A Moment He Was Recognizable As The Man Who Had Laughed At Harry's Parents' Wedding.

I Had An American Journalist Say To Me, "is It True You Wrote The Whole Of The First Novel On Napkins?" I Was Tempted To Say, "on Teabags, I Used To Save Them.

Who's Kreacher?" "the House-elf Who Lives Here," Said Ron. "nutter. Never Met One Like Him." "he Is Not A Nutter," Said Hermione. "his Life's Ambition Is To Have His Head Cut Off And Stuck Up On A Plaque Like His Mother", Said Ron. "is That Normal, Hermione?

So Then I Thought, I'd Like You To Have Something To Remember Me By, You Know, If You Ever Meet Some Veela When You're Off Doing Whatever You're Doing.' I Think Dating Opportunities Are Going To Be Pretty Thin On The Ground, To Be Honest.' There's A Silver Lining I've Been Looking For,' She Whispered, And Then She Was Kissing Him As She Never Kissed Him Before, And Harry Was Kissing Her Back, And It Was A Blissful Oblivion, Better Than Firewhiskey; She Was The Only Real Thing In The World, Ginny, The Feel Of Her, One Hand On Her Back, The Other In Her Long Sweet-smelling Hair.

Here Lies Dobby, A Free Elf.