You said to us once before," said Hermione quietly, "that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?

Her round, mascara-streaked face looked back at him out of the rear window. He forced a grin and a wave before lighting another cigarette, and reflecting that Lucy's idea of sympathty compared unfavourably with some of the interrogation techniques they had used at Guantanamo.

So why in the name of Merlin’s saggy left —” “Don’t talk to your mother like that.

You are the true master of death, because the true master does not seek to run away from Death. He accepts that be must die, and understands that there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying.

Warrington’s aim’s so pathetic I’d be more worried if he was aiming for the person next to me.

A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of.

Have to? Of course you have to! But only because of you, Harry, won't rest until Voldemort is finished! Think now, for once, if you have never heard of the prophecy! What would you do?