Harry: This book belongs to Harry Potter. Ron: Shared by Ron Weasley, because his fell apart. Hermione: Why don't you buy a new one then? Ron: Write on your own book, Hermione. Hermione: You bought all those dungbombs on Saturday. You could have bought a new book instead. Ron: Dungbombs rule.

Professor Flitwick had dried himself off and set Seamus lines ("I am a wizard not a baboon brandishing a stick")

If she could have done one thing to make absolutely sure that every single person in this school will read your interview, it was banning it!

If he doesn't stop trying to save your life he's going to kill you.

Hermione turned and beamed at Harry; her eyes, too, were full of tears. ‘…then I declare you bonded for life.

He [Uncle Vernon] held up the envelope in which Mrs. Weasley’s letter had come, and Harry had to fight down a laugh. Every bit of it was covered in stamps except for a square inch on the front, into which Mrs. Weasley had squeezed the Dursleys’ address in minute writing. “She did put enough stamps on, then,” said Harry, trying to sound as though Mrs. Weasley’s was a mistake anyone could make.

Snape is vindictive, he's cruel. He's not a big man. But he loves. I like him, but I'd also like to slap him hard.