Asleep was the way Harry liked the Dursleys best; it wasn't as though they were ever any help to him awake.
Harry had long since learned that bangs and smoke were more often the marks of ineptitude than expertise.
I'm not going to be murdered, Harry said out loud. That's the spirit, dear, said his mirror sleepily.
MODESTY My momma, your momma, gonna catch a witch My momma, your momma, flying on a switch My momma, your momma, witches never cry My momma, your momma, witches gonna die! As.
Don't count your owls before they are delivered.
Overload 'em with information an' they'll kill yeh jus' to simplify things.