Stop, Stop, Stop, You're Going To Poke

Let’s See . . . Ah, Yes, This Is Nice And Cozy.” It Was A Broom Cupboard.

The Elf’s Eyes Found Him, And His Lips Trembled With The Effort To Form Words. ‘harry... Potter...’ And Then With A Little Shudder The Elf Became Quite Still, And His Eyes Were Nothing More Than Great, Glassy Orbs Sprinkled With Light From The Stars They Could Not See.

As He Followed Bill Back To The Others A Wry Though Came To Him, Born No Doubt Of The Wine He Had Drunk. He Seemed Set On Course To Become Just As Reckless A Godfather To Teddy Lupin As Sirius Black Had Been To Him.

You Can Laugh! But People Used To Believe There Were No Such Things As The Blibbering Humdinger Or The Crumple-horned Snorkack!

Slowly, Very Slowly, He Sat Up, And As He Did So He Felt More Alive, And More Aware Of His Own Living Body Than Ever Before. Why Had He Never Appreciated What A Miracle He Was, Brain And Nerve And Bounding Heart? It Would All Be Gone...or At Least, He Would Be Gone From It. His Breath Came Slow And Deep, And His Mouth And Throat Were Completely Dry, But So Were His Eyes.