
Saved by Jonathan Simcoe and
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Saved by Jonathan Simcoe and
In the darkness, with nothing but the sound of his own breath and the rushing sea to keep him company, the things that had happened at the Malfoys’ returned to him, the things he had heard came back to him, and understanding blossomed in the darkness. . . .
Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.
“How in the name of Merlin’s pants have you managed to get your hands on those Horcrux books?”
It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it.
And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred’s eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.
Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out . . . though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love. . . .
his mind full of those things that had come to him in the grave, ideas that had taken shape in the darkness, ideas both fascinating and terrible.
It’s so unfair that you had to die, when you were so good and brave.
Even You-Know-Who can’t split himself into seven.” Harry caught Hermione’s eye and looked away at once.