He is coming for me, she would say at night. So softly it became a prayer. She caught whispers of him from the jaws of lions and knew joy for she saw fear in their eyes. Give them a taste of winter, Robb. Give them a taste of death.
And Peeves, whom Harry had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.