According to Nietzche," said a sharp new voice, making them all jump, "philosophy is the biography of the philosopher.

He accused me of being Dumbledore's man through and through." "How very rude of him." "I told him I was." Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. Fawkes the phoenix let out a low, soft, musical cry. To Harry's intense embarrassment, he suddenly realized that Dumbledore's bright blue eyes looked rather watery, and stared hastily at his own knee. When Dumbledore spoke, however, his voice was quite steady. "I am very touched, Harry.

Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.

The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.

Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

Twitchy little ferret, aren't you, Malfoy?

Well — I was lucky once, wasn't I?” said Harry, pointing at his scar. “I might get lucky again.