And this is Nymphadora-" "Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus," said the young witch with a shudder. "It's Tonks." "-Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only," finished Lupin. "So would you if your fool of a mother had called you 'Nymphadora,' " muttered Tonks.

'It only put me in Gryffindor,' said Harry in a defeated voice, 'because I asked not to go in Slytherin...' 'Exactly' said Dumbledore, beaming once more. 'Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.'

Every second he breathed, the smell of the grass, the cool air on his face, was so precious: To think that people had years and years, time to waste, so much time it dragged, and he was clinging to each second.

If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love.

I know how to use a fellytone now.

Longbottom, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something.

Bigotry is probably the thing I detest most.