The presence of hundreds of books had finally convinced Hermione that what they were doing was right.

Always have a vivid imagination, for you never know when you might need it.

One more lesson like that and I might just do a Weasley.

He knew one thing only, and it was beyond fear or reason: He was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek; he was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort’s feet . . . he was going to die upright like his father, and he was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defense was possible. . . .

It's just hard," Harry said finally, in a low voice, "to realize he won't write me again

I have met thousands of children now, and not even one time has a child come up to me and said, 'Ms. Rowling, I'm so glad I've read these books because now I want to be a witch.'

A Wrackspurt . . . They’re invisible. They float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy,” she said. “I thought I felt one zooming around in here.