J.K. Rowling
See also: Robert Galbraith
Although she writes under the pen name J.K. Rowling, pronounced like rolling, her name when her first Harry Potter book was published was simply Joanne Rowling. Anticipating that the target audience of young boys might not want to read a book written by a woman, her publishers demanded that she use two initials, rather than her full name. As she had no middle name, she chose K as the second initial of her pen name, from her paternal grandmother Kathleen Ada Bulgen Rowling. She calls herself Jo and has said, "No one ever called me 'Joanne' when I was young, unless they were angry." Following her marriage, she has sometimes used the name Joanne Murray when conducting personal business. During the Leveson Inquiry she gave evidence under the name of Joanne Kathleen Rowling. In a 2012 interview, Rowling noted that she no longer cared that people pronounced her name incorrectly.
Rowling was born to Peter James Rowling, a Rolls-Royce aircraft engineer, and Anne Rowling (née Volant), on 31 July 1965 in Yate, Gloucestershire, England, 10 miles (16 km) northeast of Bristol. Her mother Anne was half-French and half-Scottish. Her parents first met on a train departing from King's Cross Station bound for Arbroath in 1964. They married on 14 March 1965. Her mother's maternal grandfather, Dugald Campbell, was born in Lamlash on the Isle of Arran. Her mother's paternal grandfather, Louis Volant, was awarded the Croix de Guerre for exceptional bravery in defending the village of Courcelles-le-Comte during the First World War.
Rowling's sister Dianne was born at their home when Rowling was 23 months old. The family moved to the nearby village Winterbourne when Rowling was four. She attended St Michael's Primary School, a school founded by abolitionist William Wilberforce and education reformer Hannah More. Her headmaster at St Michael's, Alfred Dunn, has been suggested as the inspiration for the Harry Potter headmaster Albus Dumbledore.
As a child, Rowling often wrote fantasy stories, which she would usually then read to her sister. She recalls that: "I can still remember me telling her a story in which she fell down a rabbit hole and was fed strawberries by the rabbit family inside it. Certainly the first story I ever wrote down (when I was five or six) was about a rabbit called Rabbit. He got the measles and was visited by his friends, including a giant bee called Miss Bee." At the age of nine, Rowling moved to Church Cottage in the Gloucestershire village of Tutshill, close to Chepstow, Wales. When she was a young teenager, her great aunt, who Rowling said "taught classics and approved of a thirst for knowledge, even of a questionable kind," gave her a very old copy of Jessica Mitford's autobiography, Hons and Rebels. Mitford became Rowling's heroine, and Rowling subsequently read all of her books.
Rowling has said of her teenage years, in an interview with The New Yorker, "I wasn’t particularly happy. I think it’s a dreadful time of life." She had a difficult homelife; her mother was ill and she had a difficult relationship with her father (she is no longer on speaking terms with him). She attended secondary school at Wyedean School and College, where her mother had worked as a technician in the science department. Rowling said of her adolescence, "Hermione [a bookish, know-it-all Harry Potter character] is loosely based on me. She's a caricature of me when I was eleven, which I'm not particularly proud of." Steve Eddy, who taught Rowling English when she first arrived, remembers her as "not exceptional" but "one of a group of girls who were bright, and quite good at English." Sean Harris, her best friend in the Upper Sixth owned a turquoise Ford Anglia, which she says inspired the one in her books.
“She was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.“I never thought to look in here!” she whispered excitedly. “I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading.”“Light?” said Ron.”
“It’s so difficult to describe depression to someone who’s never been there, because it’s not sadness. I know sadness. Sadness is to cry and to feel. But it’s that cold absence of feeling— that really hollowed-out feeling.”
“I am not worried, Harry," said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. "I am with you.”
“They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer.”
“Well — I was lucky once, wasn't I?” said Harry, pointing at his scar. “I might get lucky again.”
“They run off eckeltricity, do they?" he said knowledgeably. "Ah yes, I can see the plugs. I collect plugs," he added to Uncle Vernon. "And batteries. Got a large collection of batteries.”
“Professor Snape was forcing them to research antidotes. They took this one seriously, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked.”
“Look . . . at . . . me. . . .”
“No story lives unless someone wants to listen. So thank you, all of you.”
“Whether you come back by page or by the big screen, Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.”
“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.”She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.“Er — all right.”He cleared his throat.“Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.”He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” said the girl. “Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course.”
“Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.”
“Harry witnessed Professor McGonagall walking right past Peeves who was determinedly loosening a crystal chandelier and could have sworn he heard her tell the poltergeist out of the corner of her mouth, 'It unscrews the other way.”
“Well, hello, Peter,” said Lupin pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. “Long time, no see.”
“He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together.”
“Have you any idea how much tyrants fear the people they oppress?”
“Failure is a stripping away of the inessential.”
“Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus.”
“Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts.“Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger.”“Why?” said Harry in surprise.“There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year.”
“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's off-centre," said Ron."Oh I see," Hermione said bristling. "So basically you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you even if she's completely horrible?""Er - yeah that sounds about right." said Ron."I'm going to bed," Hermione snapped and she swept off toward the girls' staircase without another word.”
“Completely forgetting about dinner, he walked slowly back up to Gryffindor tower. Cho's voice echoing in his ears with every step he took... 'Cedric - Cedric Diggory' . He had been starting to quite like Cedric - prepared to overlook the fact that he had once beaten him at Quidditch, and was handsome, and popular, and nearly everyone's favourite champion. Now he suddenly realised Cedric was in fact a useless pretty-boy who didn't have enough brains to fill an eggcup.”
“Oh, get out of the way, Percy,” said Fred. “Harry’s in a hurry.”“Yeah, he’s off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant,” said George, chortling.”
“Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?”
“Don’t ask questions — that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.”
“Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work.”
“Just — just to be clear,” he said. “You want to leave Tonks at her parents’ house and come away with us?”“She’ll be perfectly safe there, they’ll look after her,” said Lupin. He spoke with a finality bordering on indifference. “Harry, I’m sure James would have wanted me to stick with you.”“Well,” said Harry slowly, “I’m not. I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually.”
“Where do vanished objects go?""Into nonbeing, which is to say, everything," replied Professor McGonagall. "Nicely phrased," replied the eagle door knocker, and the door swung open.”
“Brains like that, you could be a Death Eater, son.”
“The idea of Dumbledore's corpse frightened Harry much less than the possibility that he might have misunderstood the living Dumbledore's intentions.”
“Many are whispering that Voldemort must be behind it. However, that is the point: They whisper. They daren’t confide in each other, not knowing whom to trust; they are scared to speak out, in case their suspicions are true and their families are targeted. Yes, Voldemort is playing a very clever game. Declaring himself might have provoked open rebellion: Remaining masked has created confusion, uncertainty, and fear.”
“Norbert?" Charlie laughed. "The Norwegian Ridgeback? We call her Norberta now." "Wha -- Norbert's a girl?" "Oh yeah," said Charlie. "How can you tell?" asked Hermoine. "They're a lot more vicious," said Charlie.”
“Daddy, look — one of the gnomes actually bit me!”
“They don’t need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they’re trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought. Most go mad within weeks.”
“You are the Chosen One?”“Of course I am,” said Harry calmly.“But then . . . my dear boy . . . you’re asking a great deal . . .you’re asking me, in fact, to aid you in your attempt to destroy —”“You don’t want to get rid of the wizard who killed Lily Evans?”“Harry, Harry, of course I do, but —”“You’re scared he’ll find out you helped me?”Slughorn said nothing; he looked terrified.“Be brave like my mother, Professor. . . .”
“Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he’s still out there, bidin’ his time, like, but I don’ believe it.”
“Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would’ve done everyone a favor. . . .”
“Even You-Know-Who can't split himself into seven.”
“I knew Ginny was lying about that tattoo.”
“Bill, don’t look at me — I’m ’ideous.”
“Fred and George turned to each other and said together, 'Wow, we're identical!''I dunno though, I think I'm still better looking,' said Fred, examining his reflection in the kettle.”
“Harry, guess what?" said Tonks from her perch on top of the washing machine, and she wiggled her left hand at him; a ring glittered there.”
“Alors, Hermione, tu admires toujours autant Lockhart, maintenant? dit Ron à travers le rideau. Si Harry avait eu envie d'être transformé en mollusque, il l'aurait demandé.Tout le monde peut commettre des erreurs, répondit Hermione. D'ailleurs, ça ne te fait plus mal, n'est-ce-pas, Harry?Non, dit Harry. L'ennuie, c'est que ça ne me fait plus rien du tout.”
“Ce qu'il voyait dépasser de sa manche ressemblait à un gros gant en caoutchouc, couleur chair. Il essayer de remuer ses doigts, mais rien ne se produisit.Lockhart n'avait pas ressoudé les os. Il les avait fait disparaître.”
“Trust me," he said. "I know what I'm doing... or at least" -- he strolled confidently to the door -- "Felix does.”
“How d’you spell ‘belligerent’?” said Ron, shaking his quill very hard while staring at his parchment. “It can’t be B — U — M —”“No, it isn’t,” said Hermione. “And ‘augury’ doesn’t begin O — R — G either.”
“This group had a kind of dark glamour within the castle. They were a motley collection; a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish gravitating toward a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty.”
“A tiny little wooden man [was] slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: Reusable Hangman — Spell It Or He’ll Swing!”
“So after E, it’s A for ‘Acceptable,’ and that’s the last pass grade, isn’t it?”“Yep,” said Fred, dunking an entire roll in his soup, transferring it to his mouth, and swallowing it whole. “Then you get P for ‘Poor’ ” — Ron raised both his arms in mock celebration — “and D for ‘Dreadful.’ ”“And then T,” George reminded him.“T?” asked Hermione, looking appalled. “Even lower than a D? What on earth does that stand for?”“ ‘Troll,’ ” said George promptly.”
“I would assume that you were going to offer me refreshment, but the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of foolishness.”
“Oh, he’ll try, I’m sure. . . . The usual empty words, the usual slithering out of action . . . oh, on the Dark Lord’s orders, of course!”