How d’you spell ‘belligerent’?” said Ron, shaking his quill very hard while staring at his parchment. “It can’t be B — U — M —” “No, it isn’t,” said Hermione. “And ‘augury’ doesn’t begin O — R — G either.

Mistletoe," said Luna dreamily, pointing at a large clump of white berries placed almost over Harry's head. He jumped out from under it. "Good thinking," said Luna seriously. "It's often infested with nargles.

You’re not supposed to dislike your own child. You were supposed to like them no matter what, even if they were not what you wanted.

I felt I had to solve everyone's problems.

Death obsesses me, yes it does. I can't really understand why it doesn't obsess everyone - I think it does really, I'm just a little more out about it.

Voldemort’s fury at the fall of his last, best lieutenant exploded with the force of a bomb.

In a novel you have to resist the urge to tell everything.