He was about to go home, about to return to the place where he had had a family. It was in Godric’s Hollow that, but for Voldemort, he would have grown up and spent every school holiday. He could have invited friends to his house. . . . He might even have had brothers and sisters. . . . It would have been his mother who had made his seventeenth birthday cake. The life he had lost had hardly ever seemed so real to him as at this moment, when he knew he was about to see the place where it had been taken from him.

The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter... or at least, most minds are.

Bad news, Harry. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She – er, got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first.

Merlin's pants!" shrieked Hermione, jumping up and running from the room. "Merlin's pants?" repeated Ron, looking amused. "She must be really upset.

Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me." "Say 'please.'" "Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?" "Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice. "All right- PLEASE." "NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" asked Fred as they dug into a sumptuous pudding. "The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr. Weasley. Everyone looked up at him. "Why?" said Percy curiously. "It's because of you, Perce," said George seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them-" "-for Humongous Bighead," said Fred.

Ron's indignation on his behalf was worth about a hundred points to him.