Harry, You Wonderful Boy, You Brave, Brave

But People Only Die In Proper Duels, You Know, With Real Wizards. The Most You And Malfoy’ll Be Able To Do Is Send Sparks At Each Other. Neither Of You Knows Enough Magic To Do Any Real Damage. I Bet He Expected You To Refuse, Anyway.” “and What If I Wave My Wand And Nothing Happens?” “throw It Away And Punch Him On The Nose,” Ron Suggested.

The Sky Outside The Window Was Changing Rapidly From Deep, Velvety Blue To Cold, Steely Gray And Then, Slowly, To Pink Shot With Gold.

She Can't Keep Writing About What A Tragic Little Hero I Am, It'll Get Boring.

... Perhaps Those Who Are Best Suited To Power Are Those Who Have Never Sought It.

The Realization Of What Would Happen Next Settled Gradually Over Harry In The Long Minutes, Like Softly Falling Snow. "i've Got To Go Back, Haven't I?" "that Is Up To You." "i've Got A Choice?" "oh Yes." Dumbledore Smiled At Him. "we Are In King's Cross, You Say? I Think That If You Decided Not To Go Back, You Would Be Able To…let's Say…board A Train." "and Where Would It Take Me?" "on," Said Dumbledore Simply.