Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide — except perhaps Hogwarts.

Ron's ears turned bright red and he become engrossed in a tuft of grass at his feet, which he prodded with his toe 'he must've known I'd run out on you'. 'No', Harry corrected him, 'He must've known you'd always want to come back

Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain.

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

I’ll make Goyle do lines, it’ll kill him, he hates writing,” said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle’s low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair. “I... must... not... look... like... a... baboon’s... backside.

Brains like that, you could be a Death Eater, son.

A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of.