And all along the corridor the statues and suits of armor jumped down from their plinths, and from the echoing crashes from the floors above and below, Harry knew that their fellows throughout the castle had done the same.
And all along the corridor the statues and suits of armor jumped down from their plinths, and from the echoing crashes from the floors above and below, Harry knew that their fellows throughout the castle had done the same.
Dobby has no master. Dobby is a free elf!
Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?
I'm going to keep going until I succeed - or die. Don't think I don't know how this might end. I've known it for years.
Room of Requirement, of course! Surpassed itself, hasn't it? the Carrows were chasing me, and I knew I had just one chance for a hideout: I managed to get through the door and this is what I found! Well, it wasn't exactly like this when I arrived, it was a load smaller, there was only one hammock and just Gryffindor hangings. But it's expanded as more and more of the D.A. have arrived.
Vot is the point of being an international Quidditch player if all the good-looking girls are taken?
And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hands, staring down at his enemy's shell.
DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY, STILL RECRUITING.
Hermione was screaming again: the sound went through Harry like physical pain.
It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well.
She's as nutty as squirrel poo.
Wands are only as powerful as the wizards who use them. Some wizards just like to boast that theirs are bigger and better than other people's.
And his knowledge remained woefully incomplete, Harry! That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children's tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing. Nothing. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped...
Even You-Know-Who can't split himself into seven.
He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the Mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could...
It was not, after all, so easy to die.
Silence fell between the four of them as they looked up at the sky. There was no sign of movement, the stars stared back, unblinking, indifferent, unobscured by flying friends. Where was Ron? Where were Fred and Mr Weasley? Where were Bill, Fleur, Tonks, Mad Eye, Mundungus?
We did it, we bashed them wee Potter's the one, and Voldy's gone moldy, so now let's have fun!
And now a chill settled over them where they stood, and Harry heard the rasping breath of the dementors that patrolled the outer trees. They would not affect him now. The fact of his own survival burned inside him, a talisman against them, as though his father's stag kept guardian in his heart.
Every second he breathed, the smell of the grass, the cool air on his face, was so precious: To think that people had years and years, time to waste, so much time it dragged, and he was clinging to each second.
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.
It's your one last chance … Be a man … try … Try for some remorse …
Slowly, very slowly, he sat up, and as he did so he felt more alive, and more aware of his own living body than ever before. Why had he never appreciated what a miracle he was, brain and nerve and bounding heart? It would all be gone...or at least, he would be gone from it. His breath came slow and deep, and his mouth and throat were completely dry, but so were his eyes.
We teachers are rather good at magic, you know.
And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.
Every time he tried to reconstruct the internal arguments that had led to his decision, they sounded feebler to him.
Hogwarts was the first and best home he had known. He and Voldemort and Snape, the abandoned boys, had all found home here.
Just one more Master Harry-for good luck?
So that's little Scorpious. Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank god you've inherited your mother's brains.
We'll all keep fighting, you know that right, Harry?
As Ginny and Hermione moved closer to the rest of the family, Harry had a clear view of the bodies lying next to Fred: Remus and Tonks, pale and still and peaceful-looking, apparently asleep beneath the dark, enchanted ceiling.
Finally, the truth. Lying with his face pressed into the dusty carpet of the office where he had once thought he was learning the secrets of victory, Harry understood at last that he was not supposed to survive.
Holey? You have the the whole world of ear-related humor before you, you go for holey?
Knowledge beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.
The idea of Dumbledore's corpse frightened Harry much less than the possibility that he might have misunderstood the living Dumbledore's intentions.
Whatever happens to your body, your soul will survive, untouched...
As he followed Bill back to the others a wry though came to him, born no doubt of the wine he had drunk. He seemed set on course to become just as reckless a godfather to Teddy Lupin as Sirius Black had been to him.
For him that's like saying I love you
How in the name of Merlin's pants have you managed to get your hands on those Horcrux books?
Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?
The only reason to delay at this point was because the immediate prospect was so deeply uninviting.
Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?
As our listeners will know, unless they've taken refuge at the bottom of a garden pond or somewhere similar, You-Know-Who's strategy of remaining in the shadows is creating a nice little climate of panic.
For instance, this new idea that You-Know-Who can kill with a single glance from his eyes. That's a basilisk, listeners. One simple test: Check whether the thing that's glaring at you has got legs. If it has, it's safe to look into its eyes, although if it really is You-Know-Who, that's still likely to be the last thing you ever do.
I can't give a Professor love!
Of courses it is happening in your head, Harry, but why on Earth should that mean it's not real?
The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.
Why had he never appreciated the miracle that he was, brain and nerve and bounding heart?
Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first September was crisp and golden as an apple...
Get away from my daughter you BITCH!!!
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories