Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

J.K. Rowling

J.K. Rowling

Profession: Novelist
Nationality: British

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Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher. There was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head!

Harry couldn't sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying.

Fred, you next, the plump woman said. I'm not Fred, I'm George, said the boy. Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George? Sorry, George, dear. Only joking, I am Fred, said the boy, and off he went.

And since when have he and Snape been on first-name terms?' said.

Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a short, plump, kind-faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger.

You think you're funny, she said coldly. But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him.

It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be.

For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

Ron dragged himself up to bed shortly after this. Out of respect for his feelings, Harry waited a while before going up to the dormitory himself, so that Ron could pretend to be asleep if he wanted to. Sure enough, when Harry finally entered the room Ron was snoring a little too loudly to be entirely plausible.

Thoughts could leave deeper scarring than almost anything.

Percy wouldn't recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of him wearing Dobby's tea cozy.

He raised his hand automatically and tried to make his hair lie flat. You're fighting a losing battle there, dear, said his mirror in a wheezy voice.

What do we want to be prefects for? said George, looking revolted at the very idea. It'd take all the fun out of life.

Deliberately causing mayhem in Snape's potions class was about as safe as poking a sleeping dragon in the eye.