One Can Never Have Enough Socks

He Read The Letter Again, But Could Not Take In Any More Meaning Than He Had Done The First Time And Was Reduced To Staring At The Handwriting Itself. She Had Made Her G's The Same Way He Did : He Searched Through The Letter For Every One Of Them, And Each Felt Like A Friendly Little Wave Glimpsed From Behind A Veil. The Letter Was An Incredible Treasure, Proof That Lily Potter Had Lived, Really Lived, That Her Warm Hand Had Once Moved Across This Parchment, Tracing Ink Into These Letters, These Words, Words About Him, Harry, Her Son.

Well, [bad] Times Like That Bring Out The Best In Some People And The Worst In Others.

The Opportunity Was Too Perfect To Miss. Harry Crept Silently Around Behind Malfoy, Crabbe, And Goyle, Bent Down, And Scooped A Large Handful Of Mud Out Of The Path. 'we Were Just Talking About Your Friend Hagrid,' Malfoy Said To Ron. 'just Trying To Imagine What He's Saying To The Committee For The Disposal Of Dangerous Creatures. D'you Think He'll Cry When They Cut Off His Hippogriff's—' Splat. Malfoy's Head Jerked Back As The Mud Hit Him; His Silverblond Hair Was Suddenly Dripping In Muck.

I've Never Stunned Anyone Except In Our D.a. Lessons," Said Luna, Sounding Mildly Interested. "that Was Noisier Than I Thought It Would Be.

He Has Never Wanted To Occupy The Throne Himself; He Prefers The Back Seat - More Room To Spread Out, You See.