When you have that last piece of the jigsaw, everything will, I hope, be clear..." -Albus Dumbledore

Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was going to be sick-he hit the field on all fours-coughed-and something gold fell into his hand. 'I've got the snitch!' he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion. 'He didn't catch it, he nearly swalloed it,' Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference-Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results-Gryffindor had won by 170 points to 60.

Perhaps you have been looking in the wrong places.

You know how I think they choose people for Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for now reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains.

There's nothing better when something comes and hits you and you think 'YES'!

Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?

No, thanks," said Harry. "The toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it— it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.