I Really Like How The Sixth Book

I Was Just Sitting On The Train, Just Staring Out The Window At Some Cows. It Was Not The Most Inspiring Subject. When All Of A Sudden The Idea Of Harry Just Appeared In My Mind's Eye.

Someone Creeping Into His Yard In The Dead Of Night? More Likely There's A Very Shell-shocked Cat Wandering Somewhere, Covered In Potato Peelings.

Call Him Voldemort, Harry. Always Use The Proper Name For Things. Fear Of A Name Increases Fear Of The Thing Itself.

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'll Be There, Harry," Said Ron "what?" "at Your Aunt And Uncle's House," Said Ron, "and Then We'll Go With You Wherever You're Going." "no-" Said Harry Quickly; He Hadn't Counted On This, He Had Meant Them To Understand That He Was Undertaking The Most Dangerous Journey Alone. "you Said It Once Before," Said Hermione Quickly, "that There Was Time To Turn Back If We Wanted To. We've Had Time, Haven't We? We're With You Whatever Happens.