Thursday, 14 January 2016

Page Three Hundred Ninety Four

Alan Rickman, the actor who played Severus Snape (Professor Snape, Harry!) died today. A large part of fascination with the fantastic actor for me is due to his this role, and his perfectly voiced dialogues. There couldn't have been a better Snape. As I read the books after watching the movies, over and over again, I had Rickman's voice playing Snape all along in my mind. 
I present Page. Three. Hundred. Ninety. Four. 
Book 1 & 2 : (don't have Page 394 errr!)
Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
“Three turns? What’s he talking about? What are we supposed to do?”
 But Hermione was fumbling with the neck of her robes, pulling from beneath them a very long, very fine gold chain.
“Harry, come here,” she said urgently. “Quick!”
Harry moved toward her, completely bewildered. She was holding the chain out. He saw a tiny, sparkling hourglass hanging from it.
“Here —”
She had thrown the chain around his neck too.
“Ready?” she said breathlessly.
“What are we doing?” Harry said, completely lost.
Hermione turned the hourglass over three times.
The dark ward dissolved. Harry had the sensation that he was flying very fast, backward. A blur of colors and shapes rushed past him, his ears were pounding, he tried to yell but couldn’t hear his own voice —
And then he felt solid ground beneath his feet, and everything came into focus again —
He was standing next to Hermione in the deserted entrance hall and a stream of golden sunlight was falling across the paved floor from the open front doors. He looked wildly around at Hermione, the chain of the hourglass cutting into his neck.
“Hermione, what — ?”
“In here!” Hermione seized Harry’s arm and dragged him across the hall to the door of a broom closet; she opened it, pushed him inside among the buckets and mops, then slammed the door behind them.
“What — how — Hermione, what happened?”

Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

“Well, you’d better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone,” said Fred.
“Who’re you going with, then?” said Ron.
“Angelina,” said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.
“What?” said Ron, taken aback. “You’ve already asked her?”
“Good point,” said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, “Oi! Angelina!”
Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looked over at him.
“What?” she called back.
“Want to come to the ball with me?”
Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look.
“All right, then,” she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.
“There you go,” said Fred to Harry and Ron, “piece of cake.”
He got to his feet, yawning, and said, “We’d better use a school owl then, George, come on. . . .”
They left. Ron stopped feeling his eyebrows and looked across the smoldering wreck of his card castle at Harry.
“We should get a move on, you know . . . ask someone. He’s right. We don’t want to end up with a pair of trolls.”
Hermione let out a sputter of indignation.
“A pair of . . . what, excuse me?”
“Well — you know,” said Ron, shrugging. “I’d rather go alone than with — with Eloise Midgen, say.”
“Her acne’s loads better lately — and she’s really nice!”
“Her nose is off-center,” said Ron.
“Oh I see,” Hermione said, bristling. “So basically, you’re going...

Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix

“Sorry, Harry,” said George hastily, when Harry caught his eye.
“Couldn’t resist . . .”
Harry walked around the other pairs, trying to correct those who were doing the spell wrong. Ginny was teamed with Michael Corner; she was doing very well, whereas Michael was either very bad or unwilling to jinx her. Ernie Macmillan was flourishing his wand unnecessarily, giving his partner time to get in under his guard; the Creevey brothers were enthusiastic but erratic and mainly responsible for all the books leaping off the shelves around them. Luna Lovegood was similarly patchy, occasionally sending Justin Finch-Fletchley’s wand spinning out of his hand, at other times merely causing his hair to stand on end.
“Okay, stop!” Harry shouted. “Stop! STOP!”
I need a whistle, he thought, and immediately spotted one lying on top of the nearest row of books. He caught it up and blew hard. Everyone lowered their wands.
“That wasn’t bad,” said Harry, “but there’s definite room for improvement.”
Zacharias Smith glared at him. “Let’s try again. . . .”
He moved off around the room again, stopping here and there to make suggestions. Slowly the general performance improved. He avoided going near Cho and her friend for a while, but after walking twice around every other pair in the room felt he could not ignore them any longer.
“Oh no,” said Cho rather wildly as he approached. “Expelliarmious! I mean, Expellimellius! I — oh, sorry, Marietta!”
Her curly-haired friend’s sleeve had caught fire; Marietta extinguished it with her own wand and glared at Harry as though it was his fault.
“You made me nervous, I was doing all right before then!” Cho told Harry ruefully.
“That was quite good,” Harry lied, but when she raised her eye...

Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

“Romilda?” he repeated. “Did you say Romilda? Harry — do you know her? Can you introduce me?”
Harry stared at the dangling Ron, whose face now looked tremendously hopeful, and fought a strong desire to laugh. A part of him — the part closest to his throbbing right ear — was quite keen on the idea of letting Ron down and watching him run amok until the effects of the potion wore off. . . . But on the other hand, they were supposed to be friends, Ron had not been himself when he had attacked, and Harry thought that he would deserve another punching if he permitted Ron to declare undying love for Romilda Vane.
“Yeah, I’ll introduce you,” said Harry, thinking fast. “I’m going to let you down now, okay?”
He sent Ron crashing back to the floor (his ear did hurt quite a lot), but Ron simply bounded to his feet again, grinning. “She’ll be in Slughorn’s office,” said Harry confidently, leading the way to the door.
“Why will she be in there?” asked Ron anxiously, hurrying to keep up.
“Oh, she has extra Potions lessons with him,” said Harry, inventing wildly.
“Maybe I could ask if I can have them with her?” said Ron eagerly.
“Great idea,” said Harry.
Lavender was waiting beside the portrait hole, a complication Harry had not foreseen.
“You’re late, Won-Won!” she pouted. “I’ve got you a birthday —”
“Leave me alone,” said Ron impatiently. “Harry’s going to introduce me to Romilda Vane.”

Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
“Xenophilius Lovegood. Luna’s father. I want to go and talk to him!”
“Er — why?”
She took a deep breath, as though bracing herself, and said, “It’s that mark, the mark in Beedle the Bard. Look at this!”
She thrust The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore under Harry’s unwilling eyes and he saw a photograph of the original letter that Dumbledore had written Grindelwald, with Dumbledore’s familiar thin, slanting handwriting. He hated seeing absolute proof that Dumbledore really had written those words, that they had not been Rita’s invention.
“The signature,” said Hermione. “Look at the signature, Harry!”
He obeyed. For a moment he had no idea what she was talking about, but, looking more closely with the aid of his lit wand, he saw that Dumbledore had replaced the A of Albus with a tiny version of the same triangular mark inscribed upon The Tales of Beedle the Bard.
“Er — what are you — ?” said Ron tentatively, but Hermione quelled him with a look and turned back to Harry.
“It keeps cropping up, doesn’t it?” she said. “I know Viktor said it was Grindelwald’s mark, but it was definitely on that old grave in Godric’s Hollow, and the dates on the headstone were long before Grindelwald came along! And now this! Well, we can’t ask Dumbledore or Grindelwald what it means — I don’t even know whether Grindelwald’s still alive — but we can ask Mr. Lovegood. He was wearing the symbol at the wedding. I’m sure this is important, Harry!”
Harry did not answer immediately. He looked into her intense, eager face and then out into the surrounding darkness, thinking. 

Alan Rickman's tribute to Snape and Harry Potter series:

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