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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
J.K. Rowling
Read between
August 21 - August 22, 2018
Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways. For one thing,
MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw. A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, “We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank.” The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.
THE FIREBOLT This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a streamlined, superfine handle of ash, treated with a diamond-hard polish and hand-numbered with its own registration number. Each individually selected birch twig in the broomtail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving the Firebolt unsurpassable balance and pinpoint precision. The Firebolt has an acceleration of 150 miles an hour in ten seconds and incorporates an unbreakable Braking Charm. Price on request.
George looked up in time to see Malfoy pretending to faint with terror again. “That little git,” he said calmly. “He wasn’t so cocky last night when the dementors were down at our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn’t he, Fred?” “Nearly wet himself,” said Fred, with a contemptuous glance at Malfoy.
“Settle down, settle down,” said Professor Snape idly. Harry and Ron scowled at each other; Snape wouldn’t have said “settle down” if they’d walked in late, he’d have given them detention.
Malfoy set up his cauldron right next to Harry and Ron, so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table.
“Sir,” Malfoy called, “sir, I’ll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm —” “Weasley, cut up Malfoy’s roots for him,” said Snape without looking up.
“Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots.” Ron seized his knife, pulled Malfoy’s roots toward him, and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.
“Professor,” drawled Malfoy, “Weasley’s mutilating my roots, sir.”
Malfoy is such a slime ball. This is my favorite line in the book.
“Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley.” “But, sir — !” Ron had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal pieces.
“And, sir, I’ll need this shrivelfig skinned,” said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.
“Potter, you can skin Malfoy’s shrivelfig,” said Snape,
Harry skinned the shrivelfig as fast as he could and flung it back across the table at Malfoy without speaking. Malfoy was smirking more broadly than ever.
“Father’s not very happy about my injury —” “Keep talking, Malfoy, and I’ll give you a real injury,” snarled Ron.
“That suggests that what you fear most of all is — fear. Very wise, Harry.”
turn to page 394.”
“Well . . . when we were in our first year, Harry — young, carefree, and innocent —” Harry snorted. He doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent.
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present THE MARAUDER’S MAP
‘Mischief managed!’
Never trust anything that can think for itself, if you can’t see where it keeps its brain.
don’t think anyone should ride that broom just yet!” said Hermione shrilly. Harry and Ron looked at her. “What d’you think Harry’s going to do with it — sweep the floor?” said Ron.
“The true Patronus does do that,”
“Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?” said a cold, drawling voice. Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him. “Yeah, reckon so,” said Harry casually. “Got plenty of special features, hasn’t it?” said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. “Shame it doesn’t come with a parachute — in case you get too near a dementor.” Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. “Pity you can’t attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy,” said Harry. “Then it could catch the Snitch for you.”
He had a very strange dream. He was walking through a forest, his Firebolt over his shoulder, following something silvery-white. It was winding its way through the trees ahead, and he could only catch glimpses of it between the leaves. Anxious to catch up with it, he sped up, but as he moved faster, so did his quarry. Harry broke into a run, and ahead he heard hooves gathering speed. Now he was running flat out, and ahead he could hear galloping. Then he turned a corner into a clearing and —
“Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.”
“Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.”
“Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor.”
“Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.”
“THE DARK LORD LIES ALONE AND FRIENDLESS, ABANDONED BY HIS FOLLOWERS. HIS SERVANT HAS BEEN CHAINED THESE TWELVE YEARS. TONIGHT, BEFORE MIDNIGHT . . . THE SERVANT WILL BREAK FREE AND SET OUT TO REJOIN HIS MASTER. THE DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN WITH HIS SERVANT’S AID, GREATER AND MORE TERRIBLE THAN EVER BEFORE. TONIGHT . . . BEFORE MIDNIGHT . . . THE SERVANT . . . WILL SET OUT . . . TO REJOIN . . . HIS MASTER. . . .”
But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion. “I let you sleep in my bed!” he said.
“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!” roared Black. “DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!”
“Professor Dumbledore — yesterday, when I was having my Divination exam, Professor Trelawney went very — very strange.” “Indeed?” said Dumbledore. “Er — stranger than usual, you mean?”
“This is magic at its deepest, its most impenetrable, Harry. But trust me . . . the time may come when you will be very glad you saved Pettigrew’s life.”
“You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble?
