When You Have That Last Piece Of

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 Had An Old Typewriter And A Big Idea.

Excuse Me, Are You The Imprint Of A Departed Soul?

He Felt His Heart Pounding Fiercely In His Chest. How Strange That In His Dread Of Death, It Pumped All The Harder, Valiantly Keeping Him Alive. But It Would Have To Stop, And Soon. Its Beats Were Numbered. How Many Would There Be Time For, As He Rose And Walked Through The Castle For The Last Time, Out Into The Grounds And Into The Forest?

It Was His Own Grief Turned Magically To Song.