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Hermione drew herself to her full height her eyes were narrowed and her hair seemed to crackle with electricity. No, she said, her voice quivering with anger, but I will write to your mother.
J. K. Rowling
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J. K. Rowling
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: July 31
Author
Executive Producer
Film Producer
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Yate
Gloucestershire
Joanne Jo Murray
Joanne Kathleen Rowling
JK
JKR
Robert Galbraith
Joanne Rowling
Writing
Anger
Crackle
Hair
Quivering
Full
Narrowed
Eyes
Hermione
Eye
Drew
Voice
Electricity
Write
Height
Mother
Seemed
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Dudley had reached roughly the size and weight of a young killer whale.
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And what will you give me in return, Severus?' 'In - in return?' Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, 'Anything.
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He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together.
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When you have that last piece of the jigsaw, everything will, I hope, be clear... -Albus Dumbledore
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What you fear most of all is - fear. Very wise.
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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.
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I think the Harry books are actually very moral, but some people just object to witchcraft being mentioned in a children's book.
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There you go, Harry!” Ron shouted over the noise. “You weren’t being thick after all — you were showing moral fiber!
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Wherever Harry went inside the tiny cottage or its garden, he could hear the constant ebb and flow of the sea, like the breathing of some great, slumbering creature.
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They were bullyin' him, Hermione, 'cause he's so small! said Hagrid. Small? said Hermione. Small? Hermione, I couldn't leave him, said Hagrid, tears now trickling down his bruised face into his beard. See -- he's my brother!
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And do I look like the kind of man that can be intimidated? barked Uncle Vernon. Well... said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving eye. Uncle Vernon lept backward in horror and collided painfully with a luggage trolley. Yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley.
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Life is too short. I only want to do things that I enjoy, or that I think are good or worth doing.
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Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here!
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What’s comin’ will come, an’ we’ll meet it when it does.
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I'm not a natural joiner.
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Harry moved the tip of his eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as he looked for something that would help him write his essay, “Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless — discuss.
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The idea of Dumbledore's corpse frightened Harry much less than the possibility that he might have misunderstood the living Dumbledore's intentions.
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Instead (Harry) contented himself with scrawling a note to Ron: Let's do it tonight.
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Choice was dangerous: you had to forgo all other possibilities when you chose.
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And as she jogged out of sight, they could hear her muttering, Tentacula. Devil's Snare. And Snargaluff pods. Yes, I'd like to see Death Eaters fighting those.
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