I'll be writing until I can't write anymore. It's a compulsion with me. I love writing.

Seventeen, eh!" said Hagrid as he accepted a bucket-sized glass of wine from Fred. "Six years to the day we met, Harry, d’yeh remember it?" "Vaguely," said Harry, grinning up at him. "Didn’t you smash down the front door, give Dudley a pig’s tail, and tell me I was a wizard?" "I forge’ the details," Hagrid chortled.

Birth and death: there was the same consciousness of heightened existence and of her own elevated importance

Gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?

Listeners, that brings us to the end of another Potterwatch. We don’t know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep twiddling those dials: the next password will be ‘Mad-Eye.’ Keep each other safe. Keep faith. Good night.

I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me.

Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.