Harry Potter - J.K. Rowling
The Boy Who Lived
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And he spat in her face. Harry pulled the Cloak off himself, raised his wand, and said, “You shouldn’t have done that.” As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!” The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled...
Come seek us where our voices sound, We cannot sing above the ground, And while you’re searching ponder this; We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss, An hour long you’ll have to look, And to recover what we took, But past an hour, the prospect’s black, Too late it’s gone, it won’t come back.