“It’s ten-o-clock, Granger. Officially past curfew. All lights in the castle that are not in dormitories or common rooms go out at this time.” He had sounded entirely unfazed. “Wouldn’t expect you to know that, though,” he’d added then; “let’s see, Astronomy ends at nine, so you’re probably tucked all snug in bed by nine-thirty every Friday night, dreaming of Arithmancy and Runes…or maybe, if you’re feeling extra naughty-” and he glanced up for just an instant, a flash of quicksilver eyes, sending a trademark smirk her way- “studying by wandlight under your covers. You bad girl, you.”

• Listening to: the space heater
• Reading: this
• Watching: you
• Playing: hard to get.
• Eating: bread and olive oil
• Drinking: diet coke

“Listen here you fat, ugly stupid, poor excuse for a wizard! You actually cannot fire Miss Granger, because she works for me now. In addition, there were no witnesses to any crime, not as far as I see. You WILL NOT file charges against Miss Granger, because if you do, you will answer to me, and believe me, I have taken down stronger men than you, and have come up smelling like roses. (WHAT THE HECK?) Furthermore, you pompous, overgrown troll, (SOUNDS MORE LIKE RON'S TYPE OF GRAMMAR) if you so much as speak to Miss Granger again, or even look her way, I will see to it that you do not live to see another day. (ISNT THAT JAMES BOND) Don’t forget, you are dealing with a former Death Eater here. I still have plenty of friends in low places.”

do you know, NINJA (as in, NINJA loans, there is such a thing) could also stand for NO INCOME NO JOB ASSHOLES? HAHAHAHA. my dad can be a downright retard at times, dont know why he invents this stuff, probably to make me more interested in economics. he says its used when banks stupidly lend money to people who have no income or job or any means to pay you back, yet insist on borrowing unmentionable sums of money to go shopping, or buy cars, or land that's just depreciating in value anyway.
(THIS IS ONE OF THE REASON FOR THE CURRENT ECONOMIC CRASH. THE OTHER BEING, A WELL-PLANNED SCAM, SOME GREED, AND OVERLY-GENEROUS AMERICANS. SHEESH.)

" Actually, from this chapter on, some really horrible things will be happening to all four main characters; not a single one of them will come through unscathed and, as long as I’m on the topic, this is as good a time as any to say that one of them won’t come through at all. I’m hereby issuing an official Character Death warning."

The Highway Man

The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.

He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin;
He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh!
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle--
His rapier hilt a-twinkle--
His pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred,
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--
Bess, the landlord's daughter--
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim, the ostler listened--his face was white and peaked--
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter--
The landlord's black-eyed daughter;
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light.
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast,
Then he kissed its waves in the moonlight
(O sweet black waves in the moonlight!),
And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon.
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor,
The redcoat troops came marching--
Marching--marching--
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord; they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed.
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side;
There was Death at every window,
And Hell at one dark window,
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had bound her up at attention, with many a sniggering jest!
They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say,
"Look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."

She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness,
and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest;
Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast.
She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again,
For the road lay bare in the moonlight,
Blank and bare in the moonlight,
And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain.

Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear;
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still.

Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight--
Her musket shattered the moonlight--
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him--with her death.

He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own red blood!
Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat
When they shot him down in the highway,
Down like a dog in the highway,
And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor,
The highwayman comes riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred,
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--
Bess, the landlord's daughter--
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

-- Alfred Noyes