Harry moved the tip of his eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as he looked for something that would help him write his essay, “Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless — discuss.

Am I about to discover where you, Ron, and Hermione disappeared to while you were supposed to be in the back room of Fred and George's shop?" How did you...?" Harry, please. You're talking to the man who raised Fred and George.

Harry, you wonderful boy, you brave, brave man.

And they'd [the Death Eaters] love to have me," said Harry sarcastically. "We'd be best pals if they didn't keep trying to do me in.

'It only put me in Gryffindor,' said Harry in a defeated voice, 'because I asked not to go in Slytherin...' 'Exactly' said Dumbledore, beaming once more. 'Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.'

We teachers are rather good at magic, you know.

I have seen your heart, and it is mine.