Sirius — It’s Me . . .

He Felt Even Angrier That Dumbledore Was Showing Signs Of Weakness. He Had No Business Being Weak When Harry Wanted To Rage And Storm At Him.

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.

Things Denied, Things Untold, Things Hidden And Disguised.

And Death Spoke To Them —’” “sorry,” Interjected Harry, “but Death Spoke To Them?” “it’s A Fairy Tale, Harry!” “right, Sorry. Go On.

Once Again, You Show All The Sensitivity Of A Blunt Axe.