…names to himself, as though by listing them he could bring them within reach: ’the locket …, the cup … the snake … something of Gryffindor’s or Ravenclaw’s … the locket … the cup … the snake … something of Gryffindor’s or Ravenclaw’s …’ This mantra seemed to pulse through Harry’s mind as he fell asleep at night, and his dreams were thick with cups, lockets and mysterious objects that he could not quite reach, though Dumbledore helpfully offered Harry a rope ladder that turned to snakes…
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My mantra helps me leave the cares of the world and open myself to meditation.
Grandfather is one of the few Masks who doesn’t believe in Augur rubbish, and I repeat his mantra in my head.