"I don't
want to talk about how I feel, all right?"
"Harry, suffering like this
proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human
-"
"THEN - I - DON'T - WANT - TO - BE -
HUMAN!"
Harry roared, and he seized one of
the delicate silver instruments from the spindle legged table
beside him and flung it across the room.
It shattered into a hundred tiny pieces against the wall. Several
of the pictures let out yells of anger and fright, and the
portrait of Armando Dippet said
"Really!"
"I DON'T CARE!" Harry
yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the
fireplace.
"I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I
WANT IT TO END,
I DON'T CARE ANYMORE - "
He seized the table on which the
silver instrument had stood and threw that too.
It broke apart on the floor and the legs rolled in different
directions.
"You do care," said
Dumbledore.
He had not flinched or made a
single move to stop Harry demolishing his office.
His expression was calm, almost
detatched.
"You care so much you feel as
though
you will bleed to death with the pain of
it."
