I'm not saying this in front of the family, but they're really torn up.

Fred's mostly been curled up in a ball on his bed, crying.

About an hour ago, George made a break for the window like he was going to throw himself out of it, and we had to wrestle him back on the bed and sit on him. He's calmer now, more like catatonia.

Each of them is dead convinced it's his fault.

I don't know if I've ever hated anybody as much as Dolores Umbridge.

Having Terry there as the Professor might help, but we can't risk that, either. Don't even mention it to him.