You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione. "Oh, am I?" said Ron peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging Hippogriff.

How do you feel, Georgie?" whispered Mrs. Weasley. George's fingers groped for the side of his head. "Saintlike," he murmured. "What's wrong with him?" croaked Fred, looking terrified. "Is his mind affected?" "Saintlike," repeated George, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother. "You see...I'm HOLEY, Fred, geddit?

I don't believe in the kind of magic in my books. But I do believe something very magical can happen when you read a good book.

Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it.

I loathe people who say, 'I always read the ending of the book first.' That really irritates me, It's like someone coming to dinner, just opening the fridge and eating pudding, while you're standing there still working on the starter. It's not on.

Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her. 'Come on, you can do better than that!' he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room. The second jet of light hit him squarely in the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.

Interesting theory. Has anyone ever tried sticking a sword in Voldemort? Maybe the Ministry should put some people onto that, instead of wasting their time stripping down Deluminators or covering up breakouts from Azkaban.