The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety blue to cold, steely gray and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold.

The presence of hundreds of books had finally convinced Hermione that what they were doing was right.

I’m not a freak. That’s a horrible thing to say." "That’s where you’re going. A special school for freaks. You and that Snape boy ... weirdos, that’s what you two are..." "You didn’t think it was such a freak’s school when you wrote the headmaster and begged him to take you.

George: "I can't see anyone trying to bump off a quidditch team." Fred: "Wood might've done the Slytherins if he could've got away with it.

So,” sneered Fudge, recovering himself, “you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?” “Merlin’s beard, no,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to.” “He will not be single-handed!” said Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes. “Oh yes he will, Minerva!” said Dumbledore sharply. “Hogwarts needs you!

He's a werewolf! That's why he's been missing classes!

I mean, is 'fat' really the worst thing a human being can be? Is 'fat' worse than 'vindictive', 'jealous', 'shallow', 'vain', 'boring' or 'cruel'? Not to me I'd rather [my daughters] were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny - a thousand things, before 'thin'. Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons.