Jealous?...Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself.

Do you remember me telling you we are practicing non-verbal spells, Potter?" "Yes," said Harry stiffly. "Yes, sir." "There's no need to call me "sir" Professor." The words had escaped him before he knew what he was saying.

If you're holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time.

I knew no one who'd ever been in the public eye.

Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won't they?" said Hermione as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging toward the enchanted barrier. "When they hear what you did this year?" "Proud?" said Harry. "Are you crazy? All those times I could've died, and I didn't manage it? They'll be furious.

No, there's no University for Wizards. At the moment I'm only planning to write seven Harry Potter books. I won't say "never," but I have no plans to write an eighth book.

I bet you’re not dangerous at all, are you? Are you, you great ugly brute?