Everybody finished the song at different times. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest. 'Ah music,' he said, wiping his eyes. 'A magic beyond all we do here!

Kreacher said nothing,” said the elf, with a second bow to George, adding in a clear undertone, “and there’s its twin, unnatural little beasts they are.

He’ll accept anyone at Hogwarts, s’long as they’ve got the talent. Knows people can turn out okay even if their families weren’ . . .well . . . all tha’ respectable.

Do you—do you think I want to—do you think I give a—I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY!" Harry roared. "You will," said Dumbledore sadly. "Because you are not nearly as mad at me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it.

I find that discussing an idea out loud is often the way to kill it stone dead.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!” A bearlike black dog had appeared at Harry’s side as Harry clambered over the various trunks cluttering the hall to get to Mrs. Weasley. “Oh honestly,” said Mrs. Weasley despairingly. “Well, on your own head be it!” The great black dog gave a joyful bark and gamboled around them, snapping at pigeons, and chasing its own tail. Harry couldn’t help laughing. Sirius had been trapped inside for a very long time.

Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it,” Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backward. “I thought it was the perfect plan... a bluff... Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they’d use a weak, talentless thing like you... It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters.