G. Norman Lippert · 459 pages
Rating: (8.3K votes)
“None of us were kidding when we said we wanted to have enough kids to make a Quidditch team, were we?”
“Go for it, Aunt Ginny! Knock him flying! You can always have another kid! One with better manners and less stinky feet!”
“You’ll never make sense of his notes. You just have to listen to his lecture,” Graham whispered
confidentially. “It’s a challenge, but the good news is that he’s been giving the same tests for forty years. The
answers are carved right into the tops of the desks. See?”
“Merlin nodded gravely. “Doing what is right is nearly always simple, Mr. Potter. But it is never easy.”
“How perfectly whimsical. I expect we’ll be roasting marshmallows over the fireplace and singing happy sing-alongs round about midnight, yes? Perhaps someone could point me in the direction of the dormitories.”
“I had an action figure that did that,” Graham nodded. “I tried to use it on my mum, once. Got me in no end of Barney.”
“He made sure to miss Josephina’s lips by a wide mark. A moment later, the lights extinguished and Tabitha cal ed for a ten-minute break while the stage crew refil ed the rain machine. That night, James had the dream one more time, although this time he felt that it was a true dream and not a direct vision into someone else’s reality. It began as always with the flash and whicker of blades and the rattle of old wood. The figure in the dream walked toward the rippling pool and looked in. As always, two faces swam up out of the depths, a young man and a young woman. This time, however, they looked different. He recognized them vaguely as his own long dead grandparents, his dad’s mum and dad. They didn’t seem to be looking at the girl with the long dark hair. Instead, they seemed to be looking directly at James, where he floated in the darkness next to her. Their faces seemed grave and worried, and although they couldn’t speak, they communicated with their eyes : Beware, grandson; watch closely and step lightly. Beware…”
“Rain fell in great sheets, hitting the pavement hard enough to send up a blattering, dirty mist. A small man stood on the corner, under the only working streetlamp, and studied the street.”
“James' first concern had been Ralph, who was indeed travelling over the holiday, staying with his dad at his flat in London. Zane assured them that he'd already been to see Ralph, warning him to keep his wand handy and try to never be alone.”
“She was tough," James said, "but nice. She wanted to talk things out with Slytherin even after he'd tried to kill the lot of us. But she wasn't a pushover. None of them were. They were hardcore. I'll tell you more tomorrow. How'd you all know I'd gone missing?”
“I don't know who this 'everybody' is that you speak of, but I am beginning to suspect that the Hogwarts you believe you know is not the Hogwarts we currently occupy. Now come here.”
“In politics as in high school, who you are is to a large extent defined by who you sit with at lunch, and there was no doubt about it, the Earth was sitting at the loser table. It was not, Bob Pope thought, the true destiny of the Earth in our universe to be counted among the diplomatic equivalent of the acne-ridden and the furtively masturbating.”
“Hate yearned to destroy and sought to forget, but love could not. Love strove creatively towards days that had yet to come.”
“Go ahead! Panic!" screamed Picchu from somewhere in the background. "Do it now and avoid the June rush! Fear death by water!”
“Grief was just the moment before you tied off the thread and began the next one. That was when you made your choice about what you were going to sew next.”
“The poet Kabir asks, "What is God?" Then he answers his own question: "God is the breath inside the breath.”
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