Seventeen, eh!" said Hagrid as he accepted a bucket-sized glass of wine from Fred. "Six years to the day we met, Harry, d’yeh remember it?" "Vaguely," said Harry, grinning up at him. "Didn’t you smash down the front door, give Dudley a pig’s tail, and tell me I was a wizard?" "I forge’ the details," Hagrid chortled.

Many parts of my life are perfectly ordinary, if that's what you mean. One could even call it boring, but that's what I like about it.

Every hour that passed added to her grief, because it bore her further away from the living man, and because it was a tiny foretaste of the eternity she would have to spend without him.

Sword? Haven't got a sword. That boy has, though. He'll lend you one.

They don’t need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they’re trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought. Most go mad within weeks - Lupin

Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here!

If it's a good book, anyone will read it. I'm totally unashamed about still reading things I loved in my childhood.