He did not know or care whether they were wizards or Muggles, friends or foes; all he cared about was that a dark stain was spreading across Dobby's front, and that he had stretched out his thin arms to Harry with a look of supplication. Harry caught him and laid him sideways on the cool grass. "Dobby, no, don't die, don't die -" The elf's eyes found him, and his lips trembled with the effort to form words. "Harry...Potter..." And then with a little shudder the elf became quite still, and his eyes were nothing more than great glassy orbs, sprinkled with light from the stars they could not see.

... perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it.

Are you insane? Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?

I am not worried, Harry," said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. "I am with you.

Young people are so infernally convinced that they are absolutely right about everything.

Yes, Harry Potter!” said Dobby at once, his great eyes shining with excitement. “And if Dobby does it wrong, Dobby will throw himself off the topmost tower, Harry Potter!” “There won’t be any need for that,” said Harry hastily.

I always advise children who ask me for tips on being a writer to read as much as they possibly can. Jane Austen gave a young friend the same advice, so I'm in good company there.