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Thornfield Hall, knowing as I did how it was haunted. I charged
There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, “Get him, Dad!” from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, “No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; “Gentlemen, please - please!” cried the assistant, and then, louder than all—
They dispersed about the room, reminding me, by the lightness
