Oh, don’t lie, Harry,” she said impatiently. “Ron and Ginny say you’ve been hiding from everyone since you got back from St. Mungo’s.” “They do, do they?” said Harry, glaring at Ron and Ginny. Ron looked down at his feet but Ginny seemed quite unabashed. “Well, you have!” she said. “And you won’t look at any of us!” “It’s you lot who won’t look at me!” said Harry angrily. “Maybe you’re taking it in turns to look and keep missing each other,” suggested Hermione, the corners of her mouth twitching.

All those poor elves I haven’t set free yet, having to stay over during Christmas because there aren’t enough hats!

Prongs rode again last night... You know, Harry, in a way, you did see your father last night... You found him inside yourself.

The dedication of this book is split seven ways: to Neil, to Jessica, to David, to Kenzie, to Di, to Anne, and to you, if you have stuck with Harry until the very end.

Do you—do you think I want to—do you think I give a—I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY!" Harry roared. "You will," said Dumbledore sadly. "Because you are not nearly as mad at me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it.

I haven’t got the heart to take the mickey out of him, even,” said Fred, looking over at Ron’s crumpled figure. “Mind you . . . when he missed the fourteenth . . .” He made wild motions with his arms as though doing an upright doggy-paddle. “Well, I’ll save it for parties, eh?

Everyone wanted my emotions to be very simple. They wanted me to say, "I was poor and I was unhappy, and now I've got money and I'm really happy."