The ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.

The wand chooses the wizard.

Why can’t I drink the potion instead?” asked Harry desperately. “Because I am much older, much cleverer, and much less valuable,” said Dumbledore.

To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!

Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Dursleys, "that this boy—this boy!—knows nothin' abou'—about ANYTHING?" Harry thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks weren't bad. I know some things," he said. "I can, you know, do math and stuff.

How thick can you get?

He had fought back with every weapon in his arsenal, being alternatively obtuse, evasive and pedantic, for it was wonderful how you could obscure an emotional issue by appearing to seek precision.