Read As Much As You Possibly Can.

All Those Poor Elves I Haven’t Set Free Yet, Having To Stay Over During Christmas Because There Aren’t Enough Hats!

I've Been Writing Since I Was Six. It Is A Compulsion, So I Can't Really Say Where The Desire Came From; I've Always Had It. My Breakthrough With The First Book Came Through Persistence, Because A Lot Of Publishers Turned It Down!

But You're Dead," Said Harry. "oh Yes," Said Dumbledore Matter-of-factly. "then...i'm Dead Too?" "ah," Said Dumbledore, Smiling Still More Broadly. "that Is The Question, Isn't It? On The Whole, Dear Boy, I Think Not.” They Looked At Each Other, The Old Man Still Beaming. "not?" Repeated Harry. "not," Said Dumbledore. "but…" Harry Raised His Hand Instinctively Toward The Lightning Scar. It Did Not Seem To Be There. "but I Should Have Died—i Didn't Defend Myself! I Meant To Let Him Kill Me!" "and That," Said Dumbledore, "will, I Think, Have Made All The Difference.

Karkaroff Intends To Flee If The Mark Burns." "does He?" Said Dumbledore Softly, As Fleur Delacour And Roger Davies Came Giggling In From The Grounds. "and Are You Tempted To Join Him?" "no," Said Snape, His Black Eyes On Fleur's And Roger's Retreating Figures. "i Am Not Such A Coward." "no," Agreed Dumbledore. You Are A Braver Man By Far Than Igot Karkaroff. You Know, I Sometimes Think We Sort Too Soon..." He Walked Away, Leaving Snape Looking Stricken.

It Was On The Corner Of The Street That He Noticed The First Sign Of Something Peculiar - A Cat Reading A Map.