Fred, you next," the plump woman said. "I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?" "Sorry, George, dear." "Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy and off he went.

I think it's difficult to be honest about certain aspects of my work without acknowledging that I have experienced or felt or questioned certain of the themes in the books.

What's that supposed to be anyway?" said Fred squinting at Dobby's painting. "Looks like a Gibbon with two black eyes!" "It's Harry," said George pointing at the back of the picture. "Says so on the back." "Good likeness," said Fred grinning. Harry threw his new homework diary at him.

Pity you can't attach an extra arm to your [broom], Malfoy. Then it could catch the Snitch for you.

I don't believe in magic.

It’s your one last chance,” said Harry, “it’s all you’ve got left. . . .I’ve seen what you’ll be otherwise. . . . Be a man . . . try . . . Try for some remorse. . . .

Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Harry felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of his body - they were saved.