Hello, Harry" said George, beaming at him. "We thought we heard your dulcet tones." "You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, Harry, let it all out," said Fred, also beaming. "There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you.

Decent people are so easy to manipulate, Potter.

There you go, Harry!” Ron shouted over the noise. “You weren’t being thick after all — you were showing moral fiber!

Look . . . at . . . me. . . .

He might have been encased in a thick glass bubble, so separate did he feel from his three dining companions. It was a sensation with which he was only too familiar, that of walking in a giant sphere of worry, enclosed by it, watching his own terrors roll by, obscuring the outside world.

If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him.

Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.