I heard from my dear friend Tiberius Ogden, that you can produce a Patronus? For a bonus point...? Harry raised his wand, looked directly at Umbridge, and imagined her being sacked. Expecto Patronum! The silver stag erupted from the end of his wand and cantered the length of the hall.

The realization of what would happen next settled gradually over Harry in the long minutes, like softly falling snow. "I've got to go back, haven't I?" "That is up to you." "I've got a choice?" "Oh yes." Dumbledore smiled at him. "We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to…let's say…board a train." "And where would it take me?" "On," said Dumbledore simply.

You think I'm a fool?" demanded Harry. "No, I think you're like James," said Lupin, "who would have regarded it as the height of dishonor to mistrust his friends.

The wand chooses the wizard.

As our listeners will know, unless they've taken refuge at the bottom of a garden pond or somewhere similar, You-Know-Who's strategy of remaining in the shadows is creating a nice little climate of panic.

Someone's dead," said Malfoy, and his voice seemed to go up an octave as he said it. "One of your people...I don't know who, it was dark...I stepped over the body...I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way.

Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide — except perhaps Hogwarts.