You Should Write A Book," Ron Told

A Bag Of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "you Want To Be Careful With Those," Ron Warned Harry. "when They Say Every Flavor, They Mean Every Flavor - You Know, You Get All The Ordinary Ones Like Chocolate And Peppermint And Marmalade, But Then You Can Get Spinach And Liver And Tripe. George Reckons He Had A Booger-flavored One Once." Ron Picked Up A Green Bean, Looked At It Carefully, And Bit Into A Corner. "bleaaargh - See? Sprouts.

There,” She Said Softly. “now He Could Be Sleeping.

What's That?" He Snarled, Staring At The Envelope Harry Was Still Clutching In His Hand. "if It's Another Form For Me To Sign, You've Got Another -" "it's Not," Said Harry Cheerfully. "it's A Letter From My Godfather." "godfather?" Sputtered Uncle Vernon. "you Haven't Got A Godfather!" "yes, I Have," Said Harry Brightly. "he Was My Mum And Dad's Best Friend. He's A Convicted Murderer, But He's Broken Out Of Wizard Prison And He's On The Run. He Likes To Keep In Touch With Me, Though...keep Up With My News...check If I'm Happy.

He Chose The Boy He Thought Most Likely To Be A Danger To Him," Said Dumbledore. And Notice This, Harry. He Chose, Not The Pureblood (which, According To His Creed, Is The Only Kind Of Wizard Worth Being Or Knowing), But The Half-blood, Like Himself. He Saw Himself In You Before He Had Ever Seen You, And In Marking You With That Scar, He Did Not Kill You, As He Intended, But Gave You Powers, And A Future, Which Have Fitted You To Escape Him Not Once, But Four Times So Far — Something That Neither Your Parents, Nor Neville’s Parents, Ever Achieved.

These Girls... They're Going To Kill Me, Harry.