You've sort of made up for it tonight,' said Harry. 'Getting the sword. Finishing off the Horcux. Saving my life.' 'That makes me sound a lot cooler than I was,' Ron mumbled. 'Stuff like that always sounds cooler than it really was,' said Harry. 'I've been trying to tell you that for years.' Simultaneously they walked forwards and hugged, Harry gripping the still sopping back of Ron's jacket.

The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

People ask me if there are going to be stories of Harry Potter as an adult. Frankly, if I wanted to, I could keep writing stories until Harry is a senior citizen, but I don't know how many people would actually want to read about a 65 year old Harry still at Hogwarts playing bingo with Ron and Hermione.

No, Harry, you listen," said Hermione. "We're coming with you. That was decided months ago - years, really.

Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs.

I just wish I’d asked you sooner. We could’ve had ages . . . months . . . years maybe. . . .

I will be sharing additional information I've been hoarding for years about the world of Harry Potter

I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now—" "A telephone, Ron," said Hermione. "Honestly, you should take Muggle Studies next year...