Perhaps just one more, Master Harry, for luck?

Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough.

He was going to be armed with his wand - which, just now, felt like nothing more than a narrow strip of wood - against a fifty-foot-high, scaly, spike-ridden, fire-breathing dragon.

"Well, we were always going to fail that one," said Ron gloomily as they ascended the marble staircase. He had just made Harry feel rather better by telling him how he told the examiner in detail about the ugly man with a wart on his nose in the crystal ball, only to look up and realize he had been describing the examiner's reflection.

You know, I sometimes think we Sort too soon.

Harry looked down and saw deep green mountains and lakes, coppery in the sunset.

Well, that was a bit stupid of you,” said Ginny angrily, “seeing as you don’t know anyone but me who’s been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels.” Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him. Then he turned on the spot to face her. “I forgot,” he said. “Lucky you,” said Ginny coolly. “I’m sorry,” Harry said, and he meant it.