Chess Was The Only Thing Hermione Ever

Professor Kettleburn, Our Care Of Magical Creatures Teacher, Retired At The End Of Last Year In Order To Enjoy More Time With His Remaining Limbs.

Three Turns Should Do It.

That's Right," Said Luna Encouragingly, As If They Were Back In The Room Of Requirement And This Was Simply Spell Practice For The D.a. "that's Right, Harry... Come On, Think Of Something Happy..." "something Happy?" He Said, His Voice Cracked. "we're All Still Here," She Whispered, "we're Still Fighting. Come On, Now.

I've Got Two Daughters Who Will Have To Make Their Way In This Skinny-obsessed World, And It Worries Me, Because I Don't Want Them To Be Empty-headed, Self-obsessed, Emaciated Clones; I'd Rather They Were Independent, Interesting, Idealistic, Kind, Opinionated, Original, Funny – A Thousand Things, Before 'thin'. And Frankly, I'd Rather They Didn't Give A Gust Of Stinking Chihuahua Flatulence Whether The Woman Standing Next To Them Has Fleshier Knees Than They Do. Let My Girls Be Hermiones, Rather Than Pansy Parkinsons. Let Them Never Be Stupid Girls.

The Hook-nosed Teacher Looked Past Quirrell’s Turban Straight Into Harry’s Eyes — And A Sharp, Hot Pain Shot Across The Scar On Harry’s Forehead.