Be Good Now, Potty...weasel King.

It Seemed Impossible That There Could Be People In The World Who Still Desired Food, Who Laughed, Who Neither Knew Nor Cared That Sirius Black Was Gone Forever.

Muggle Women Wear Them, Archie, Not The Men, They Wear These," Said The Ministry Wizard, And He Brandished The Pinstriped Trousers. "i'm Not Putting Them On," Said Old Archie In Indignation. "i Like A Healthy Breeze 'round My Privates, Thanks.

Dawn Was Breaking Over The Horizon, Shell Pink And Faintly Gold.

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.

His Eyes Are As Green As A Fresh Pickled Toad, His Hair Is As Dark As A Blackboard. I Wish He Was Mine, He's Really Divine, The Hero Who Conquered The Dark Lord.