Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness.
J.K. RowlingI'm taking Fleur on a thestral," said Bill. "She's not that fond of brooms."
Fleur walked over to stand beside him, giving him a sloppy, slavish look that Harry hoped with all his heart would never appear on his face again.
Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the first move,' Hagrid continued. 'It's polite, see? Yeh walk towards him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed to touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt.
J.K. RowlingTag: hippogriff
Ako želiš da saznaš kakav je neko, dobro pogledaj kako se ophodi prema slabijima od sebe, a ne prema onima koji su mu jednaki.
J.K. RowlingI saw you
Wandering
Like a lily in a meadow
Afraid
Of your secret potential
I knew
Who you were
And
Who I was.
Your eyes
As green as the grass
We laid in,
Your hair
As orange as the butterflies
We created.
We shared secrets
Of powers
Of mysteries
Until we’d see each other
Soon
But we split and
You fell hard for a
Buck.
I was
Like a doe in the headlights
I loved you, but
I lost you this time
Forever
But not for
Always.
Tag: mademewanttocry
He thought that it was all over, finished, done with. Andrew had never yet had reason to observe the first tiny bubble of fermenting yeast, in which was contained an inevitable, alchemical transformation.
J.K. RowlingTag: suspense transformation alchemy fermentation
There is plenty to be learned even from a bad teacher: what not to do, how not to be.
J.K. RowlingTag: teachers dumbledore pottermore lockhart
To the well organized mind, death is just the beginning of the next adventure.
J.K. RowlingHarry's extremities seemed to have gone numb. He stood quite still, holding the miraculous paper in his nerveless fingers while inside him a kind of quiet eruption sent joy and grief thundering in equal measure through his veins. Lurching to the bed, he sat down.
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 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 into these letters, words about him, Harry, her son.
Oh, most think he's barking, the potty wee lad, but some are more kindly and think he's just sad, but Peevesy knows better and says that he's mad.
J.K. RowlingTag: peeves
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