Okay, men,” he said. “And women,” said Chaser Angelina Johnson. “And women,” Wood agreed. “This is it.” “The big one,” said Fred Weasley. “The one we’ve all been waiting for,” said George. “We know Oliver’s speech by heart,” Fred told Harry, “we were on the team last year.” “Shut up, you two,” said Wood. “This is the best team Gryffindor’s had in years. We’re going to win. I know it.” He glared at them all as if to say, “Or else.” “Right. It’s time. Good luck, all of you.

For future reference, Harry, it is raspberry...although of course, if I were a Death Eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam preferences before impersonating myself.

Merlin's pants!" shrieked Hermione, jumping up and running from the room. "Merlin's pants?" repeated Ron, looking amused. "She must be really upset.

She's as nutty as squirrel poo.

You are the true master of death, because the true master does not seek to run away from Death.

They were the reason that he kept faith with his stars, that reinforced him in his belief that the universe had more in store for him than the mug's game of working for a modest salary until he retired or died.

I'm not going to be murdered," Harry said out loud. "That's the spirit, dear," said his mirror sleepily.