Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic far beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!

Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron thought was very good for her.

He was going to be armed with his wand - which, just now, felt like nothing more than a narrow strip of wood - against a fifty-foot-high, scaly, spike-ridden, fire-breathing dragon.

No, Harry, you listen," said Hermione. "We're coming with you. That was decided months ago - years, really.

We've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are.

Our Headmaster is taking a short break," said Professor McGonagall, pointing at the Snape-shaped hole in the window.

I loved writing Dumbledore and he is the epitome of goodness.