paul ranson Apple Tree with Red Fruit

paul ranson Apple Tree with Red FruitApple Tree with Red Fruit by paul ransonSunlit StrollCosta Brava Sunset
around, arrived to supplement the dwarves and other odd folk that were quartered at Bag End. Excitement rose to its height.Then the weather clouded over. That was on Wednesday the eve of the Party. Anxiety was intense. Then Thursday, September the 22nd, actually dawned. The sun got up, the clouds vanished, flags were unfurled and the fun began.Bilbo Baggins called it a party, but it was really a variety of entertainments rolled chance of at least one present at least once a week. But they never got tired of them.On this occasion the presents were unusually good. The hobbit-children were so excited that for a while they almost forgot about eating. There were toys the like of which they had never seen before,into one. Practically everybody living near was invited. A very few were overlooked by accident, but as they turned up all the same, that did not matter. Many people from other parts of the Shire were also asked; and there were even a few from outside the borders. Bilbo met the guests (and additions) at the new white gate in person. He gave away presents to all and sundry - the latter were those who went out again by a back way and came in again by the gate. Hobbits give presents to other people on their own birthdays. Not very expensive ones, as a rule, and not so lavishly as on this occasion; but it was not a bad system. Actually in Hobbiton and Bywater every day in the year it was somebody’s birthday, so that every hobbit in those parts had a fair

Gauguin Village in the Snow

Gauguin Village in the SnowGauguin Vase of PeoniesGauguin Vase of Flowers and WindowGauguin Two Women on Beach
Someone passed close by Harry, and he knew that it was Voldemort himself because he spoke a moment later, his voice magically magnified so that it swelled through the ground, crashing upon Harry's eardrums.
shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build togheter." 　　　There was silence in the grounds and from the castle. Voldemort was so close to him that Harry did not dare open his eyes again.
　　　"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.

　　　"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you

Munch The Hands

Munch The HandsMunch The Girls on the BridgeMunch Spring PlowingMunch Meeting in Outer Space
for freaks. You and that Snape boy…weirdos, that's what you two are. It's good you're being separated from normal people. It's for our safety."
　　　"You shouldn't have read – " whispered Petunia, "that was my private – how could you – ?" 　　　Lily gave herself away by half-glancing toward where Snape stood nearby. Petunia gasped. "That boy found it! You and that boy have been sneaking in my room!" 　　　"No – not sneaking – " Now Lily was on the defensive. "Severus saw the envelope, and he couldn't believe a Muggle could have contacted
　　　Lily glanced toward her parents, who were looking around the platform with an air of wholehearted enjoyment, drinking in the scene. Then she looked back at her sister, and her voice was low and fierce.

　　　"You didn't think it was such a freak's school when you wrote to the headmaster and begged him to take you."

Petunia turned scarlet.

"Beg? I didn't beg!"

"I saw his reply. It was very kind."

Cole Frenchman's Bay Mt Desert Island

Cole Frenchman's Bay Mt Desert IslandCole Falls of KaaterskillCole Cross at SunsetCole Arch of Nero
Absolutely not, Creevey, go! And you, Peakes!"

Harry hurried over to the Weasleys, all sitting together at the Gryffindor table.
　　　"We've only got half an half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast. A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix. Professors Flitwick, Sprout and McGonagall are going to take groups of fighters up to the three highest towers - Ravenclaw, Astronomy, and Gryffindor - where they'll have good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells. Meanwhile Remus" - he indicated Lupin - "Arthur" -
"Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"Haven't you found -?" began Mr. Weasley, looking worried.

　　　But he broke off as Kingsley had stepped forward on the raised platform to address those who had remained behind.

Remington Prospecting for Cattle Range

Remington Prospecting for Cattle RangeChase The Potato PatchRepin Autumn BouquetRepin Portrait of the Composer Nikolay Rymsky-Korsakov
grew, until only their heads and shoulders filled the portrait.

Then the whole thing swang forward on the wall like a little door, and the entrance to a
But Neville had spotted Ron and Hermione, and with yells of delight was hugging them too. The longer Harry looked at Neville, the worse he appeared: One of his eyes was swollen yellow and purple, there were gouge marks on his face, and his general air of unkemptness suggested that he had been living enough. Nevertheless, his battered visage shone with as he let go of Hermione and said again, "I knew you'd come! Kept telling Seamus it was a matter of time!"

real tunnel was revealed. And our of it, his hair overgrown,

his face cut, his robes ripped, clambered the real Neville Longbottom, who gave a roar of

delight, leapt down from the mantelpiece and yelled.

"I knew you'd come! I knew it, Harry!"

Peeters Reed Creek

Peeters Reed CreekPeeters Old Chatham BayPeeters Noaridge WoodsPeeters Murphy Park
Hermione fumbled insider her robes, drew out a beaded bag, rummaged for a few seconds, then removed the shining sword. Harry seized it by its rubied hilt and touched the tip of the blade to a silver flagon nearby, which did not multiply.
　　　They were truly trapped now: There was no way out except through the door, and a horde of goblins seemed to be approaching on the other side. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione and saw terror in their faces.
　　　"If I can just poke the sword through a handle – but how am I going to get up there?"

　　　The shelf on which the cup reposed was out of reach for any of them, even Ron, who was tallest. The heat from the enchanted treasure rose in waves, and sweat ran down Harry's face and back as he struggled to think of a way up to the cup; and then he heard the dragon roar on the other side of the vault door, and the sound of clanking growing louder and louder.

Monet A Woman Reading

Monet A Woman ReadingL'hermitte Moissonneurs Mont-Saint-PereMonet Wild Poppies Near ArgenteuilAchenbach Sonnenuntergang am Meer mit aufziehendem Gewitter
need you two as well!" he called to Ron and Hermione, who had been skulking, half concealed, in the doorway of the sitting room.

They both moved into the light, looking oddly relieved.

　　　"How are you?" Harry asked Hermione. "You were amazing – coming up with that story when she was hurting you like that –"
　　"In here," said Bill, opening the door into his and Fleur's room, it too had a view of the sea, now flecked with gold in the sunrise. Harry moved to the window, turned his back on the spectacular view, and waited, his arms folded, his scar prickling. Hermione took the chair beside the dressing table
Hermione gave a weak smile as Ron gave her a one-armed squeeze.

"What are we doing now, Harry?" he asked.

"You'll see. Come on."

　　　Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed Bill up the steep stairs onto a small landing. Three doors led off it.

　

Monsted Landscape With Deer

Monsted Landscape With DeerMonsted Calm WatersMonsted Bromolle Farm with ChickensMonsted The Ravello Coastline
But how do you know," said Harry, "that those wants -- the Deathstick, and the Wand of Destiny -- aren't the same want, surfacing over the centuries under different names?" "What if they're all really the Elder Wand, made by Death?" said Ron. Harry laughed: The strange idea that had occurred to him was after all, ridiculous. His wand, he reminded himself, had been of holly, not elder, and it had been made by Ollivander, whatever it had done that night Voldemort had pursued him across the skies and if it had been unbeatable, how could it have been broken? "So why would you take the stone?" Ron asked him. "Well, if you could bring people back, we could have Sirius...Mad-Eye...Dumbledore...my parents..." Neither Ron nor Hermione smiled.

"But according to Beedle the Bard, they wouldn't want to come back, would they?" said Harry, thinking about the tail they had just heard. "I don't suppose there have been loads of other stories about a stone that can raise the dead, have there?: he asked Hermione. "No," she replied sadly. "I don't think anyone except Mr. Lovegood could kid themselves that's possible. Beedle probably

Li-Leger Ocean Voyage

Li-Leger Ocean VoyageLi-Leger Northern Reflections - LoonsLi-Leger Nine Patch Canvas Art - SetLi-Leger Niki's Spa
It was snowing by the time Hermione took over the watch at midnight. Harry's dreams were confused and disturbing: Nagini wove in and out of them, first through a wreath of Christmas roses. He woke repeatedly, panicky, convinced that somebody had called out to him in the distance, imagining that the wind whipping around the tent was footsteps or voices.
"We'll somewhere more sheltered," she agreed, shivering as she pulled on a sweatshirt over her pajamas. "I kept thinking I could hear people moving outside. I even though I saw somebody one or twice."
　　　Finally he got up in the darkness and joined Hermione, who was huddled in the entrance to the tent reading A History of Magic by the light of her wand. The snow was falling thickly, and she greeted with relief his suggestion of packing up early and moving on.

Rothko Untitled 1949

Rothko Untitled 1949Rothko Untitled (I)Rothko Untitled (Green, Red, on Orange)Rothko Untitled Yellow Red Blue
Here!" cried Hermione again a few moments later from out of the darkness. "Oh no, sorry! I thought it said Potter."

　　　She was rubbing at a crumbling, mossy stone, gazing down at it, a little frown on her face.

"Harry, come back a moment."

　　　He did not want to be sidetracked again, and only grudgingly made his way back through the snow toward her.

"What?"

"Look at this!"

　　　The grave was extremely old, weathered so that Harry could hardly make out the name. Hermione showed him the symbol beneath it.

"Harry, that's the mark in the book!"

　　　He peered at the place she indicated: The stone was so worn that it

Claude Monet La Japonaise painting

Claude Monet La Japonaise paintingClaude Monet Argenteuil paintingGustav Klimt Death and Life painting
credentials. He raised his wand, not even troubling to keep it concealed beneath the Invisibility Cloak, and said, "Stupefy!"
Yaxley slid to the ground to lie curled on the floor. "Harry!" "Hermione, if you think I was going to sit here and let her pretend –"
　　　There was a flash of red light; Umbridge crumpled and her forehead hit the edge of the balustrade: Mrs. Cattermole's papers slid off her lap onto the floor and, down below, the prowling silver cat vanished. Ice-cold air hit them like an oncoming wind: Yaxley, confused, looked around for the source of the trouble and saw Harry's disembodied hand and wand pointing at him. He tried to draw his own wand, but too late: "Stupefy!"


"Harry, Mrs. Cattermole!"

　　　Harry whirled around, throwing off the Invisibility Cloak; down below

Henri Matisse Goldfish painting

Henri Matisse Goldfish paintingEdvard Munch The Scream paintingEdvard Munch Madonna painting
"The official version of Scrimgeour's murder is that he resigned; he has been replaced by Pius Thicknesse, who is under the Imperius Curse."

"Why didn't Voldemort declare himself Minister of Magic?" asked Ron.

Lupin laughed.

　　　"He doesn't need to, Ron. Effectively, he is the Minister, but why should he sit behind a desk at the Ministry? His puppet, free to extend his power beyond the Ministry.

　　　"Naturally many people have deduced what has happened: There has been such a dramatic change in Ministry policy in the last few days, and 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

Leonardo da Vinci The Madonna of the Carnation painting

Leonardo da Vinci The Madonna of the Carnation paintingLeonardo da Vinci da Vinci Self Portrait paintingRembrandt The Return of the Prodigal Son painting
luck, you know."

　　　As she drifted off after her father, Ron reappeared with an elderly witch clutching his arm. Her beaky nose, red-rimmed eyes, and leathery pink hat gave her the look of a bad-tempered flamingo.
　　"Another Weasley? You breed like gnomes. Isn't Harry Potter here? I was hoping to meet him. I thought he was a friend of yours, Ronald, or have you merely been boasting?" "No – he couldn't come –" 　　　"Hmm. Made an excuse, did he? Not as gormless as he looks in press photographs, then. I've just been instructing the bride
　　　"…and your hair's much too long, Ronald, for a moment I thought you were Ginevra. Merlin's beard, what is Xenophilius Lovegood wearing? He looks like an omelet. And who are you?" she barked at Harry.

"Oh yeah, Auntie Muriel, this is our cousin Barny."

　

Lord Frederick Leighton Perseus and Andromeda painting

Lord Frederick Leighton Perseus and Andromeda paintingLord Frederick Leighton Daedalus and Icarus paintingLord Frederick Leighton Actaea the Nymph of the Shore painting
"Why?" Harry asked, following Ron out of the room onto the tiny landing.

　　　"Descendo," muttered Ron, pointing his wand at the low ceiling. A hatch opened right over their heads and a ladder slid down to their feet. A horrible, half-sucking, half-moaning sound came out of the square hole, along with an unpleasant smell like open drains. 　　　
Harry followed Ron up the few short steps into the tiny attic space. His head and shoulders were in the room before he caught sight of the creature curled up a few feet from him, fast asleep in the gloom with its large mouth wide open. "But it . . . it looks . . . do ghouls normally wear pajamas?"

　　　"That's your ghoul, isn't it?" asked Harry, who had never actually met the creature that sometimes disrupted the nightly silence.

"Yeah, it is," said Ron, climbing the ladder. "Come and have a look at him."

Gustave Courbet paintings

Gustave Courbet paintings
Guido Reni paintings
Drop in currency value since a year ago: 51%No developed country has suffered as much from the credit crunch as Iceland, which has seen its banking system and its currency, the kronur, all but collapse. The silver lining in an Arctic cloud: what was once one of the most expensive, if memorable, destinations in Europe has suddenly gone budget. Icelandair flights from New York City start at $500 round-trip, and decent hotels in the hip capital of Reykjavik — like the Centerhotel Thingholt — are as low as $60 a night. Sure, if you go in the late fall or winter you'll get only about five hours of sunlight a day — but Icelanders know how to make those
George Inness paintings
hours count. Move fast — tourist agencies are reporting a huge spike in visitors to Iceland.CANADADrop in currency value since a year ago: 21%If Canadians didn't want us to make fun of their traditionally weak currency, why did they call it the loonie? A year ago, the joke was on us — a Canadian dollar was actually worth more than its American counterpart. Fortunately, economic catastrophe has reasserted the natural order of U.S.-Canadian relations. From the cosmopolitan charm of Montreal to the amazing skiing of Whistler (and, in between, Saskatchewan), America's

Albert Moore silver painting

Albert Moore silver paintingRene Magritte The Blank Check paintingSir Lawrence Alma-Tadema In the Tepidarium painting
Muslim "Fakhar"), arrived at ten, shining with self--esteem. "I should tell him," he said, taking control. "Most patients feel ashamed to let their loved ones see their fear." "The hell you will," Salahuddin said with a vehemence that took him by surprise. "Well, in that case," Panikkar shrugged, making as if to leave; which won the argument, because now Nasreen and Kasturba pleaded with Salahuddin: "Please, let's not fight." Salahuddin, defeated, ushered the doctor into his father's presence; and shut the study door.
"I have a cancer," Changez Chamchawala said to Nasreen, Kasturba and Salahuddin after Panikkar's departure. He spoke clearly, enunciating the word with defiant, exaggerated care. "It is very far advanced. I am not surprised. I said to Panikkar: 'This is what I told you the very first day. Where else could all the blood have gone?'" -- Outside the study, Kasturba said to Salahuddin: "Since you came, there was a light in his eye. Yesterday, with

Leonardo da Vinci The Last Supper painting

Leonardo da Vinci The Last Supper painting
Leonardo da Vinci Mona Lisa Smile painting
Thomas Gainsborough The Blue Boy painting
good, and she was dead within a minute. He ran back to the march and confronted Ayesha angrily. "I should never have listened to you," he told her. "And now you have killed my wife."
The march stopped. Mirza Saeed Akhtar, spotting an opportunity, insisted loudly that Khadija be taken to a proper Muslim burial ground. But Ayesha objected. "We are ordered by the archangel to go directly to the sea, without returns or detours." Mirza Saeed appealed to the pilgrims. "She is your Sarpanch's beloved wife," he shouted. "Will you dump her in a hole by the side of the road?"
When the Titlipur villagers agreed that Khadija should be buried at once, Saeed could not believe his ears. He realized that their determination was even greater than he had suspected: even the bereaved Sarpanch acquiesced. Khadija was buried in the corner of a barren field behind the ruined way-station of the past.
The next day, however, Mirza Saeed noticed that the Sarpanch had come

Vincent van Gogh Madhouse garden of St-Remy painting

Vincent van Gogh Madhouse garden of St-Remy paintingVincent van Gogh Landscape at Auvers in the Rain paintingVincent van Gogh The Plain at Auvers painting
mentions his history of sexual aggression." Jumpy shrugged. "Some of the women he's attacked are in this room. Mishal, for example, is over there, look, in the corner by the stage. But this isn't the time or place for that. Simba's bull craziness is, you could say, a trouble in the family. What we have here is trouble with the Man." In other circumstances, Saladin would have had a good deal to say in response to such a statement. -- He would have objected of solidarity with all pregnant women, past as well as present. When Antoinette Roberts spoke, however, her voice was big enough to fill the room on lung-power alone. She wanted to talk about her son's day in court, at the committal Uhuru for the Simba_; at others, _Freedom for the Lion_. "It's on account of the meaning of his chosen name," she explained redundantly. "In African." Which

Juan Gris The Guitar 1918 painting

Juan Gris The Guitar 1918 paintingJuan Gris Teacups paintingJuan Gris Portrait of Josette Gris painting
pointing a long painted finger, singing verses whose cruel brilliance ensures their painfulness. That night, when the supplicants have gone, Khalid asks Mahound: "You're still thinking about him?" The Messenger nods, but will not speak. Khalid says: "I made Salman take me to his room, a hovel, but he isn't there, he's hiding out." Again, the nod, but no speech. Khalid presses on: "You want me to dig him out? Wouldn't take much doing. What d"you want done with him? This? This?" Khalid's finger moves first across his neck and then, with a sharp jab, into his navel. Mahound loses his temper. "You're a fool," he shouts at the former water-carrier who is now his military chief of staff. "Can't you ever work things out without my help?"
Khalid bows and goes. Mahound falls asleep: his old gift, his way of dealing with bad moods.

Berthe Morisot The Butterfly Chase painting

Berthe Morisot The Butterfly Chase paintingPeter Paul Rubens Cimon and Pero paintingPeter Paul Rubens The Straw Hat painting
bed during their first weeks together: the appetite of each for the other seemingly inexhaustible, they made love six or seven times a day. "You opened me up," she told him. "You with the ham in your mouth. It was exactly as if you were speaking to me, as if I could read your thoughts. Not as if," she amended. "I did read them, right?" He nodded: it was true. "I read your thoughts and the right words just came out of my mouth," she marvclled. "Just flowed out. Bingo: love. In the beginning was the word."
Her mother took a fatalistic view of this dramatic turn of events in , the return of a lover from beyond the grave. "I'll tell you what I honestly thought when you gave me the news," she said over lunchtime soup and kreplach at the Whitechapel Bloom's. "I thought, oh dear, it's grand passion;

Thomas Kinkade Petals of Hope painting

Thomas Kinkade Petals of Hope paintingThomas Kinkade Morro Bay at Sunset paintingThomas Kinkade Lakeside Manor painting
the upper storey of a Free House, roar of the great wakening juggernauts rushing awesomely down this long but narrow pathway. From beneath the earth came tremors denoting the passage of huge subterranean worms that devoured and regurgitated human beings, and from the skies the thrum of choppers and the screech of higher, gleaming birds.
The sun rose, unwrapping the misty city like a gift. Saladin Chamcha slept.
Which afforded him no respite: but returned him, rather, to that other night-street down which, in the company of the physiotherapist Hyacinth Phillips, he had fled towards his destiny, clip-clop, on unsteady hoofs; and reminded him that, as captivity receded and the city drew nearer, Hyacinth's face and body had seemed to change. He saw the gap opening and widening between her central upper incisors, and the way her hair knotted and plaited itself into medusas, and the strange triangularity of her profile, which sloped

Henri Rousseau Two Monkeys in the Jungle painting

Henri Rousseau Two Monkeys in the Jungle paintingHenri Rousseau The Waterfall paintingHenri Rousseau The Repast of the Lion painting
London was a city in which the ex-boss of S A V A K had great connections in the telephone company and the Shah's ex-chef ran a thriving restaurant in Hounslow. Such a welcoming city, such a refuge, they take all types. Keep the curtains drawn.
Floors three to five of this block of mansion flats are, for the moment, all the homeland the Imam possesses. Here there are rifles and short-wave radios and rooms in which the sharp young men in suits sit and speak urgently into several telephones. There is no alcohol here, nor are playing cards or dice anywhere in evidence, and the only woman is the one hanging on the old man's bedroom wall. In this surrogate, which the insomniac saint thinks of as his waiting-room or transit lounge, the central heating is at full blast night and day, and the windows are tightly shut. The exile cannot forge