A Quote by J. K. Rowling
But as he reached the ground and sprinted towards the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back. There's nothing you can do, Harry -' Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!' - it's too late, Harry.' We can still reach him -' Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go... There's nothing you can do, Harry...nothing...he's gone.
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But some part of him realized, even as he fought to break free from Lupin, that Sirius had never kept him waiting before. . . . Sirius had risked everything, always, to see Harry, to help him. . . . If Sirius was not reappearing out of that archway when Harry was yelling for him as though his life depended on it, the only possible explanation was that he could not come back. . . . That he really was . . .
I'm serious, Harry, don't go." But Harry only had one thought in his head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Ron wasn't going to stop him. That third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than was wise, but he didn't meet anyone. And there were his mother and father smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him from staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all.
Such loyalty is admirable, of course,” said Scrimgeour, who seemed to be restraining his irritation with difficulty, “but Dumbledore is gone, Harry. He’s gone.” “He will only be gone from the school when none here are loyal to him,” said Harry, smiling in spite of himself.
Blimey,” said the other twin. “Are you — ?” “He is,” said the first twin. “Aren’t you?” he added to Harry. “What?” said Harry. “Harry Potter,” chorused the twins. “Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.
Harry - you're a great wizard, you know." "I'm not as good as you," said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. "Me!" said Hermione. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and - oh Harry - be careful!
He did not know or care whether they were wizards or Muggles, friends or foes; all he cared about was that a dark stain was spreading across Dobby's front, and that he had stretched out his thin arms to Harry with a look of supplication. Harry caught him and laid him sideways on the cool grass. "Dobby, no, don't die, don't die -" The elf's eyes found him, and his lips trembled with the effort to form words. "Harry...Potter..." And then with a little shudder the elf became quite still, and his eyes were nothing more than great glassy orbs, sprinkled with light from the stars they could not see.
'It was stupid, thinking it was him, I mean, I knew he was dead' Harry muttered. 'You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him....You know, Harry, in a way you did see your father last night....You found him inside yourself.'
He’s gone, Harry told himself. He’s gone. He had to keep thinking it as he washed and dressed, as though repetition would dull the shock of it. He’s gone and he’s not coming back. And that was the simple truth of it, Harry knew, because their protective enchantments meant that it would be impossible, once they vacated this spot, for Ron to find them again.
Malfoy glanced around. Harry knew he was checking for signs of teachers. Then he looked back at Harry and said in a low voice, "You're dead, Potter." Harry raised his eyebrows. "Funny," he said, "you'd think I'd have stopped walking around.
If I could just get Broom to cooperate, we could fly, Glo said. Then we wouldn't have to worry about traffic. Harry Potter didn't have to worry about traffic. You relize Harry Potter isn't real, right? Of course, but he could be. I mean, maybe not Harry Potter, but someone like him. Who's to say?
In 1995, I sold the rights to Harry Bosch to Paramount. They had several screenplays written, but a movie never happened. Harry Bosch went on the shelf, and I had to wait 15 years to get him back.
I've decided to call him Norbert,' said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. 'He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mummy?' 'He's lost his marbles,' Ron muttered in Harry's ear. 'Hagrid,' said Harry loudly, 'give it a fortnight and Norbert's going to be as big as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment. Hagrid bit his lip. 'I- I know I can't jus' dump him, I can't.' Harry suddenly turned to Ron. 'Charlie,' he said. 'You're losing it too,' said Ron. 'I'm Ron, remember?
Hey, look — Harry’s got a Weasley sweater, too!” Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G. “Harry’s is better than ours, though,” said Fred, holding up Harry’s sweater. “She obviously makes more of an effort if you’re not family.
You are determined to hate him [Snape], Harry,” said Lupin with a faint smile. “And I understand; with James as your father, with Sirius as your godfather, you have inherited an old prejudice. By all means tell Dumbledore what you have told Arthur and me, but do not expect him to share your view of the matter; do not even expect him to be surprised by what you tell him. It might have been on Dumbledore’s orders that Severus questioned Draco.
Harry looked around; there was Ginny running toward him; she had a hard blazing look in her face as she threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that fifty people were watching, Harry kissed her. After several long moments, or it might have been half an hour-or possibly several sunlit days- they broke apart.
But you're dead," said Harry. "Oh yes," said Dumbledore matter-of-factly. "Then...I'm dead too?" "Ah," said Dumbledore, smiling still more broadly. "That is the question, isn't it? On the whole, dear boy, I think not.” They looked at each other, the old man still beaming. "Not?" repeated Harry. "Not," said Dumbledore. "But…" Harry raised his hand instinctively toward the lightning scar. It did not seem to be there. "But I should have died—I didn't defend myself! I meant to let him kill me!" "And that," said Dumbledore, "will, I think, have made all the difference.
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