The Ones That Love Us Never Really

Which Way Did They Go, Peeves?" Filch Was Saying. "quick, Tell Me." "say 'please.'" "don't Mess With Me, Peeves, Now Where Did They Go?" "shan't Say Nothing If You Don't Say Please," Said Peeves In His Annoying Singsong Voice. "all Right- Please." "nothing! Ha Haaa! Told You I Wouldn't Say Nothing If You Didn't Say Please! Ha Ha! Haaaaaa!" And They Heard The Sound Of Peeves Whooshing Away And Filch Cursing In Rage.

Howard Was Almost As Fond Of This Hall As He Was Of His Own Shop. The Brownies Used It On Tuesdays, And The Women's Institute On Wednesdays. It Had Hosted Jumble Sales And Jubilee Celebrations, Wedding Receptions And Wakes, And It Smelled Of All Of These Things: Of Stale Clothes And Coffee Urns, And The Ghosts Of Home-baked Cakes And Meat Salads; Of Dust And Human Bodies; But Primarily Of Aged Wood And Stone.

I Was Ripped From My Body, I Was Less Than Spirit, Less Than The Meanest Ghost . . . But Still, I Was Alive.

We Did It, We Bashed Them Wee Potter's The One, And Voldy's Gone Moldy, So Now Let's Have Fun!

Dumbledore Had Not Raised His Voice, He Did Not Even Sound Angry, But Harry Would Have Preferred Him To Yell; This Cold Disappointment Was Worse Than Anything.