“Explain,’ the troll hissed.‘Explain what? I was just…’ Harry pointed back the way he’d come. ‘Let me go, please, sir. I won’t breathe a word about what I seen. Not about you nor the dead body.’‘Explain the dead body,’ the troll said, shaking Harry so violently that his teeth rattled. ‘It’s a body,’ he said when he could finally draw breath. ‘And it’s dead. A woman, in a coat, bleeding.’‘What colour fur?’ the troll demanded.‘It’s not fur, it’s probably wool.’The creature’s eyes narrowed even further. ‘Not the coat,’ it rasped. ‘On its head – what colour was the fur on the female’s head?’Harry frowned, struggling to understand. ‘You mean her hair?’‘Hair, fur, protective cranial grafting – whatever term you use on this primitive planet. What colour was it?’‘Sort of… brownish.’‘Brownish.’‘And quite long. I think.’ Despite the tight grip that the troll maintained on his shoulders, Harry managed to get one hand up high enough to show how long the dead woman’s hair had been. ‘About this long.’The grip on his shoulders loosened and Harry felt himself sag. Then he stumbled forwards under a near-crippling slap on his back.‘Good lad,’ the troll said. ‘Your observational skills are adequate. You would make a good forward sniper.’‘Oh, um, thank you, sir.’ Harry swallowed. ‘Can I go now?”

“My name is Harry Dresden," I said.Fitz stumbled. "Holy shit," he said. "Like...that Harry Dresden? The professional wizard?""The one and only."He recovered his pace and shook his head. "I heard you were dead.""Well, yeah," I said, "but I'm taking it in stride.”

“It's going to be all right, sir," Harry said over and over again, more worried by Dumbledore's silence than he had been by his weakened voice. "We're nearly there ... I can Apparate us both back ... don't worry ...""I am not worried, Harry," said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. "I am with you.”

“Here is the hardest hit of all, O'Malley," Harry said. "Here is the very worst thing I can do to you."He held out his hand, as if asking for a handshake. He was asking for a handshake.Conor responded almost automatically, putting out his own hand and shaking Harry's before he even thought about what he was doing. They shook hands like two businessmen at the end of a meeting."Goodbye, O'Malley," Harry said, looking into Conor's eyes. "I no longer see you.”

“Dumbledore lowered his hands and surveyed Harry through his half-moon glasses. 'It is time,’ he said, ‘for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything.”

“And then there’s its hair,” Justin said, pushing the vegetables across to me. “Don’t forget the hair. It’s horrible.”“It’s wearing a dead person’s hair,” Rafe informed me. “If you stick a pin in the doll, you can hear screaming coming from the graveyard. Try it.”“See what I mean?” Abby said, to me. “Wusses. It’s got real hair. Why he thinks it’s from a dead person—”“Because your poppet was made in about 1890 and I can do subtraction.”