I know you two. And if I’m gone, I know what you could become, because I know who you really are: a junky who solves crimes to get high, and the doctor who never came home from the war. Will you listen to me? Who you really are, it doesn’t matter. It’s all about the legend, the stories, the adventures. There is a last refuge for the desperate, the unloved, the persecuted. There is a final court of appeal for everyone. When life gets too strange, too impossible, too frightening, there is always one last hope. When all else fails, there are two men sitting arguing in a scruffy flat like they’ve always been there, and they always will. The best and wisest men I have ever known, my Baker Street boys, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. 

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban

Can’t you just be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?

Hey, it’s uh… it’s me. I know that I’ve been gone too long and it’s… I just… I want you to know that it’s not about you and it’s not about our fight. Okay? Something came up, and I will explain it all when I see you. I just… I want you to know that I’m not mad. I’m just sorry. About everything. I don’t want you to get hurt at all. And I don’t wanna lose you. Just make sure you heat up some real food. Not just Eggos. And I want you to eat all the peas, even if they’re mushy and gross. And I will be home soon.