Potter Funny Quotes

But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog cards.

Don’t put your wand there, boy!” roared Moody. “What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, you know!” “Who d’you know who’s lost a buttock?” the violet-haired woman asked Mad-Eye interestedly. “Never you mind, you just keep your wand out of your back pocket!” growled Mad-Eye. “Elementary wand safety, nobody bothers about it anymore . . .” He stumped off toward the kitchen. “And I saw that,” he added irritably, as the woman rolled her eyes at the ceiling.

Malfoy glanced around. Harry knew he was checking for signs of teachers. Then he looked back at Harry and said in a low voice, "You're dead, Potter." Harry raised his eyebrows. "Funny," he said, "you'd think I'd have stopped walking around...

What's a dementor?" I mean, I can't even. "Nora, you are no longer my sister." "So it's some Harry Potter thing," she says.

Harry Potter isn’t real? Oh no! Wait, wait, what do you mean by real? Is this video blog real? Am I real if you can see me and hear me, but only through the internet? Are you real if I can read your comment but I don’t know who you are or what your name is or where you’re from or what you look like or how old you are? I know all of those things about Harry Potter. Maybe Harry Potter’s real and you’re not.

Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'LL KILL YOU, HARRY!

Oh, there you are, Albus,' he said. 'You've been a very long time. Upset stomach?' 'No, I was merely reading the Muggle magazines,' said Dumbledore. 'I do love knitting patterns.

Oh, of course," said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I forgot we'll be hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library.

The Death Eaters can't all be pure-blood, there aren't enough pure-blood wizards left," said Hermione stubbornly. "I expect most of them are half-bloods pretending to be pure. It's only Muggle-borns they hate, they'd be quite happy to let you and Ron join up" "There is no way they'd let me be a Death Eater!" said Ron indignantly...."My whole family are blood traitors! That's as bad as Muggle-borns to Death Eaters!" "And they'd love to have me," said Harry sarcastically. "We'd be best pals if they didn't keep trying to do me in.

Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me." "Say 'please.'" "Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?" "Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice. "All right- PLEASE." "NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Harry down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through ...... Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior. "It is not a laughing matter," he said coldly. "Oh, get out of the way, Percy," said Fred. "Harry's in a hurry." "Yeah, he's off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant," said George, chortling. Ginny didn't find it amusing either. "Oh, don't," she wailed every time Fred asked Harry loudly who he was planning to attack next, or when George pretended to ward Harry off with a large clove of garlic when they met.

Why would I go looking for someone I know wants to kill me?

You think you’re funny,” she said coldly. “But you’re just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone.” “I will if you go out with me, Evans,” said James quickly. “Go on . . . Go out with me, and I’ll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.” “I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” said Lily.

Never try to understand the students. They hate it. They would much rather be tragically misunderstood, wallow in self-pity, stew in their own —” “That’s enough, Phineas,” said Dumbledore.

Her voice was now so shrill only bats would be able to hear it soon, but she had reached a level of indignation that rendered her temporarily speechless..

One more lesson like that and I might just do a Weasley.

I expect what you're not aware of would fill several books, Dursely.

Well, I don’t know how to break this to you, but I think they might have noticed we broke into Gringotts.

Yeah,” said Harry. “No more pretending we care what happens when Jupiter and Uranus get too friendly . . .” “And from now on, I don’t care if my tea leaves spell die, Ron, die — I’m just chucking them in the bin where they belong.

At least my happiness doesn't depend on Ron's goalkeeping ability.

I am not forgotten, you know, no, I still receive a very great deal of fan mail. . . . Gladys Gudgeon writes weekly. . . . I just wish I knew why. . . .” He paused, looking faintly puzzled, then beamed again and returned to his signing with renewed vigor. “I suspect it is simply my good looks. . . .

Thanks. Seriously, you must have better things to do with your life than waste it on the hopeless?' 'I've already learned Parseltongue. What else is there?' 'Elvish.

You know, I don’t get why Fred and George only got three O.W.L.s each,” said Harry, watching as Fred, George, and Lee collected gold from the eager crowd. “They really know their stuff. . . .” “Oh, they only know flashy stuff that’s no real use to anyone,” said Hermione disparagingly. “No real use?” said Ron in a strained voice. “Hermione, they’ve got about twenty-six Galleons already. . . .

Excellent,” said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. “We’ve got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we’re ready. Harry, I’ve left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry —” “They won’t,” said Harry. “That you’re safe —” “That’ll just depress them.” “— and you’ll see them next summer.” “Do I have to?

So,” sneered Fudge, recovering himself, “you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?” “Merlin’s beard, no,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to.” “He will not be single-handed!” said Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes. “Oh yes he will, Minerva!” said Dumbledore sharply. “Hogwarts needs you!

You saved Dad's life. If anyone's got the right to eavesdrop on him, it's you.

Grabbing a scarf off the chair, I threw it at him. He caught it, clutching it to his chest as he flew into the air. "You gave Tink a scarf. Tink is free!" He flew out into the hallway like a little cracked-out fairy, screeching, "Tink is freeeeee!" Ren looked at me. "What the actual f**k?" I sighed. "He's obsessed with Harry Potter. I'm sorry." Tink darted back into the room, holding the scarf to his bare chest. "There is no reason to apologize when it comes to Harry Potter." "You do remember what happened to Dobby, right?" I said. "S**t." Tink's eyes widened and he dropped the scarf.

She did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she mad timid motions toward Neville, holding something in her outstretched hand. "Again?" said Mrs. Longbottom, sounding slightly weary. "Very well, Alice dear, very well- Neville, take it, whatever it is..." But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Droobles Blowing Gum wrapper. "Very nice, dear," said Neville's grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder. But Neville said quietly, "Thanks Mum." His mother tottered away, back up the ward, humming to herself. Neville looked around at the others, his expression defiant, as though daring them to laugh, but Harry did not think he'd ever found anything less funny in his life. "Well, we'd better get back," sighed Mrs. Longbottom, drawing on her long green gloves. "Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now..." But as they left, Harry was sure he saw Neville slip the wrapper into his pocket.

Parvati positively beamed. Harry could tell that she was feeling guilty for having laughed at Hermione in Transfiguration. He looked around and saw that Hermione was beaming back, if possible even more brightly. Girls were very strange sometimes.

Wow, we're identical!

Look, why don't you go talk to Ron about all this?" Harry asked. "Well, I would, but he's always asleep when I go and see him!" said Lavender fretfully. "Is he?" said Harry, surprised, for he had found Ron perfectly alert every time he had been up to the hospital wing.

Being fed, and having a soft bed, and other people being in charge, seemed the most wonderful prospect in the world at that moment.

He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the Mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could...

Fred and George exchanged looks. "You don't mind if we don't kiss you, do you, Ron?" said Fred in a falsely anxious voice. "We could curtsy, if you like," said George. "Oh, shut up," said Ron, scowling at them.

You know how I think they choose people for Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for now reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains.

Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings...Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public high school. Dudley thought this was very funny. "They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?" "No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. "Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" "Thank you!" He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. “Is he — a bit mad?” he asked Percy uncertainly. "Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?

Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" "Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of were thickset and looked like bodyguards. "Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelssly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.

Imperio!” Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance. Everyone was laughing — everyone except Moody. “Think it’s funny, do you?” he growled. “You’d like it, would you, if I did it to you?” The laughter died away almost instantly.

I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but safety first!

Time has a funny way of airbrushing relationships, removing all the things that were wrong so when you look back it looks much better than it really was.

Listen, Harr,y can I have a go on it? Can I?" "I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" said Hermoine shrilly. Harry and Ron looked at her. "What d'you think Harry's going to do with it - sweep the floor?" said Ron.

There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

D'you know what that - (he called Snape something that made Hermoine say "Ron!")" - is making me do? I've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!" He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. "Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!

It's alright" said a dreamy voice from beside Harry as Ron vanished into the coach's dark interior. "You're not going mad or anything. I can see them too." "Can you?" said Harry desperately, turning to Luna. He could see the bat-winged horses reflected in her wide, silvery eyes. "Oh yes," said Luna, "I've been able to see them since my first year here. They've always pulled the carriages. Don't worry. You're just as sane as I am." Smiling faintly, she climbed into the musty interior of the carriage after Ron. Not altogether reassured, Harry followed her.

Divination is turning out to be much more trouble than I could have foreseen, never having studied the subject myself.

Knocking the shrieking goblins aside like skittles

Yer a wizard, Harry!

He'll have that scar forever." "Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?" "Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground.

That thing has a name?

You've been popping into the fire every hour?' Harry said, half laughing. 'Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear.

This is precisely why I loathed being a teacher! Young people are so infernally convinced that they are absolutely right about everything. Has it not occurred to you, my poor puffed-up poppinjay, that there might be an excellent reason why the Headmaster of Hogwarts is not confiding every tiny detail of his plans to you? Have you never paused, while feeling hard-done-by, to note that following Dumbledore's orders has never yet led you into harm? No. No, like all young people, you are quite sure that you alone feel and think, you alone recognise danger, you alone are the only one clever enough to realise what the Dark Lord may be planning.

Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on.

It was the right and responsible thing to do, so they put it off until later.

That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" said Ron... "He seems like a very good teacher," said Hermoine approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the boggart -" "What would it have been for you?" said Ron sniggering, "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?

I feel like Harry Potter just put liquid luck in my butterbeer before Quidditch practice.

Don’t worry, You’re just as sane as I am. - Luna Lovegood

Zen cuts straight through the Quidditch match in progress and almost gets taken down by a Beater hurling a Nerf quaffle right at his machopartes.

I'm really feeling more like a Harry Potter to your Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger." "Harry Potter? Someone is awful full of themselves." "And this way Charlie can be always-loyal and cooler than cool Neville Longbottom, and Liam gets to be Sirius." Jase shook his head. "Sirius dies." "Lupin?" "Also dies." "A Weasley twin?" "Liam isn't that funny, and Fred dies." I searched over the entire cast of Harry Potter. "All the cool people die.

So, Harry,' said Dumbledore quietly. "Before you got lost in my thoughts, you wanted to tell me something.' 'Yes,' said Harry. 'Professor - I was in Divination just now, and - er - I fell asleep.' He hesitated here, wondering if a reprimand was coming, but Dumbledore merely said, 'Quite understandable. Continue.

But you would think, wouldn't you, that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt? - Sir Nicholas de Mimsy

Mr Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business.' Snape froze. Harry stared, dumbstruck, at this message. But the map didn't stop there. More writing was appearing beneath the first. 'Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.' It would have been funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. And there was more... 'Mr Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a Professor.' Harry closed his eyes in horror. When he'd reopened them, the map had had its last word. 'Mr Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.

Everyone laughed, but nobody laughed harder than Luna Lovegood. She let out a scream of mirth that caused Hedwig to wake up and flap her wings indignantly and Crookshanks to leap up into the luggage rack, hissing. She laughed so hard that her magazine slipped out of her grasp, slid down her legs, and onto the floor. “That was funny!

Myrtle goggled at them. "You're alive," she said blankly to Harry. "There's no need to sound so disappointed," he said grimly... "Oh, well... I'd just be thinking... if you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," said Myrtle, blushing silver. "Urgh!" said Ron... "Harry! I think Myrtle's grown fond of you! You've got competition, Ginny!

Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?

Is it true you shouted at Professor Umbridge?' 'Yes,' said Harry. 'You called her a liar?' 'Yes.' 'You told her He Who Must Not Be Named is back?' 'Yes.' Professor McGonagall sat down behind her desk, watching Harry closely. Then she said, 'Have a biscuit, Potter.

RON: Only- friends. Funny word- friends. Not that funny. Just a word, really. Friends. Friend. Funny friend. You, my funny friend, my Hermoine. Not that- not my Hermoine, you understand- not MY Hermoine- not MINE- you know, but...

It’s not funny,” said Ron, fiercely. “If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my — my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick. . . . You wouldn’t like them either if you’d been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and . . .” He broke off, shuddering.

Ah,' said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. 'Dumbledore. Yes. You - er - got our - er - message that the time and - er - place of the hearing had been changed, then?' 'I must have missed it,' said Dumbledore cheerfully. 'However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done.

WAIT, WAIT! JUST one more!” “Bliss, there are children waiting.” And they probably hated us, but I was just so glad to see her smiling that I didn’t care. “Yeah, well, they all just jumped on the bandwagon. Most of them weren’t alive when I read Harry Potter for the first time.” I turned to the Canadian family behind me and said, “I’m so sorry. This is the last one, I promise.” Then I took one more picture of Bliss pretending to push the luggage cart through the wall at the Platform 9¾ monument at King’s Cross Station. A little boy stuck his tongue out at Bliss as we left. I pulled her away before she could follow suit. “That kid better watch it. I’m totally a Slytherin.” I shook my head, smiling. “Love, I’m going to need you to pull back on the crazy a bit.” “You’re right. Realistically, I’m a Ravenclaw.

The plan, which I really hope I fulfilled, is that the reader, like Harry, would gradually discover Ginny as pretty much the ideal girl for Harry. She’s tough, not in an unpleasant way, but she’s gutsy. He needs to be with someone who can stand the demands of being with Harry Potter, because he’s a scary boyfriend in a lot of ways. He’s a marked man. I think she’s funny, and I think that she’s very warm and compassionate. These are all things that Harry requires in his ideal woman…. Initially, she’s terrified by his image. I mean, he’s a bit of a rock god to her when she sees him first, at 10 or 11, and he’s this famous boy. So Ginny had to go through a journey… I didn’t want Ginny to be the first girl that Harry ever kissed. That’s something I meant to say, and it’s kind of tied in…. And I feel that Ginny and Harry, in this book, they are total equals. They are worthy of each other. They’ve both gone through a big emotional journey, and they’ve really got over a lot of delusions together. So, I enjoyed writing that. I really like Ginny as a character.

Creo que no me equivoco al pensar, querido mío, que naciste justo a mitad del invierno, ¿no es así? -No-contestó Harry-.Nací en julio.

WHAT a funny sight it is to see a brood of ducklings with a hen!

Umm, you know Harry Potter isn't real, right?" Kyle said, as I looked disappointedly at the lack of my magical ability. "Mudblood," I muttered, and he laughed again.

Harry took the map and grinned. "You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs would've wanted to lure me out of school... you said they'd have thought it was funny." "And so we would have done," said Lupin, now reaching down to close his case. "I have no hesitation in saying that James would have been highly disappointed if his son had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle.

Percy's enjoying work, then? said Harry, sitting down on one of the beds and watching the Chudley Cannons zooming in and out of the posters on the ceiling. 'Enjoying it?' said Ron darkly. 'I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. "According to Mr Crouch" ... "as I was saying to Mr Crouch" ... "Mr Crouch is of the opinion" ... "Mr Crouch was telling" ... They'll announcing their engagement any day now.

Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.” “What?” “He saved his life.” “What?” “Yes . . .” said Dumbledore dreamily. “Funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt. . . . I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace. . 

Quirrel said Snape-" "Professor Snape, Harry." "Yes, him - Quirrell said he hates me because he hate my father. Is that true?" "Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr Malfoy. Then your father did something Snape could never forgive. " "What?" "He saved his life." "What??" "Yes..." said Dumbledore dreamily. "Funny, the way peoples minds work, isn't it?

Ebony." he yelled. "Thou must kill Vampire Potter!" I thought about Vampire and his sexah eyes and his gothic black hair and how his face looks just like Joel Madden. I remembered that Draco had said I didn't understand, so I thought, what if Draco went out with Vampire before I went out with him and they broke up? "No, Voldemort!" I shouted back. Voldemort gave me a gun. "No! Please!" I begged. "Thou must!" he yelled. "If thou does not, then I shall kill thy beloved Draco!" "How did you know?" I asked in a surprised way. Voldemort got a dude-ur-so-retarded look on his face. "I hath telekinesis." he answered cruelly. "And if you doth not kill Vampire, then thou know what will happen to Draco!" he shouted. Then he flew away angrily on his broomstick.

I told them you’d take it like this,” said Hermione with a hint of complacency. “If you think I’m going to let six people risk their lives--!” “--because it’s the first time for all of us,” said Ron. “This is different, pretending to be me--” “Well, none of us really fancy it, Harry,” said Fred earnestly. “Imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny gits forever.” Harry did not smile. “You can’t do it if I don’t cooperate, you need me to give you some hair.” “Well, that’s that plan scuppered,” said George. “Obviously there’s no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate.” “Yeah, thirteen of us against one bloke who’s not allowed to use magic; we’ve got no chance,” said Fred. “Funny,” said Harry, “really amusing.

Psst!” said a voice, and he looked around to see a wispy little witch and the ferrety wizard from Magical Maintenance gesturing to him from over beside the statue. Harry hastened to join them. “You got in all right, then?” Hermione whispered to Harry. “No, he’s still stuck in the bog,” said Ron. “Oh, very funny…

morning traffic jam, he couldn’t help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn’t bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and

Absolutely Disgusted! Your Father's Facing An Inquiry At Work And It's Entirely Your Fault! If You Put Another Toe Out Of Line, We'll Bring You Straight Back Home!

I'm sitting in the bleachers, watching longingly as all the boys and umbumped girls in my Personal Health and Fitness class play Muggle Quidditch. I don't even like the game very much, I think it's silly, but I so miss physical activity that I'd be thrilled if I could run around the gymnasium with a broom between my legs, chasing after the human snitch wearing a gold pinny.

Through the gaps in the books, Ryan could see someone in the next aisle over, moving slowly. Someone in black. Someone whistling. Ryan recognized the tune. It was the theme music to Harry Potter.

He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could

Now, you two — this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you’ve — you’ve blown up a toilet or —” “Blown up a toilet? We’ve never blown up a toilet.” “Great idea though, thanks, Mum.” “It’s not funny. And look after Ron.” “Don’t worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us.” “Shut up,” said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

...but it's not so much having to repair the damage, it's more the attitude behind the vandalism, Harry. Muggle-baiting might strike some wizards as funny, but it's an expression of something much deeper and nastier...

Find Mundungus Fletcher?” he croaked. “And bring him here, to Grimmauld Place,” said Harry. “Do you think you could do that for us?” As Kreacher nodded and got to his feet, Harry had a sudden inspiration. He pulled out Hagrid’s purse and took out the fake Horcrux, the substitute locket in which Regulus had placed the note to Voldemort. “Kreacher, I’d, er, like you to have this,” he said, pressing the locket into the elf’s hand. “This belonged to Regulus and I’m sure he’d want you to have it as a token of gratitude for what you--” “Overkill, mate,” said Ron as the elf took one look at the locket, let out a howl of shock and misery, and threw himself back onto the ground. It took them nearly half an hour to calm down Kreacher, who was so overcome to be presented with a Black family heirloom for his very own that he was too weak at the knees to stand properly. When finally he was able to totter a few steps they all accompanied him to his cupboard, watched him tuck up the locket safely in his dirty blankets, and assured him that they would make its protection their first priority while he was away. He then made two low bows to Harry and Ron, and even gave a funny little spasm in Hermione’s direction that might have been an attempt at a respectful salute, before Disapparating with the usual loud crack.

Liam gets to be Sirius.” Jase shook his head. “Sirius dies.” “Lupin?” “Also dies.” “A Weasley twin?” “Liam isn’t that funny, and Fred dies.” I searched over the entire cast ofHarry Potter. “All the cool people die.” “Which is why we should stick to Star Wars and Jedi. What kind of cool team name would we get if we went with the wizards? Team Gryffindor?” “Or, you know, Order of the Phoenix.” “I think we’re more like Dumbledore’s Army,” was Talley’s sleepy reply. “Although, we’re more like Liam’s Army.

You don't seem to need many qualifications to liaise with Muggles; all they want is an OWL in Muggle Studies. ''Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience and a good sense of fun.'' - ''You'd need more than a good sense of fun to liaise with my uncle'', said Harry darkly .''Good sense of when to duck more like.

Hermione made purple and gold streamers erupt from the end of her wand and drape themselves artistically over the trees and bushes. “Nice,” said Ron, as with one final flourish of her wand, Hermione turned the leaves on the crabapple tree to gold. “You’ve really got an eye for that sort of thing.” “Thank you, Ron!” said Hermione, looking both pleased and a little confused. Harry turned away, smiling to himself. He had a funny notion that he would find a chapter on compliments when he found time to peruse his copy of Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches; he caught Ginny’s eye and grinned at her before remembering his promise to Ron and hurriedly striking up a conversation with Monsieur Delacour. “Out of the way, out of the way!” sang Mrs. Weasley, coming through the gate with what appeared to be a giant, beach-ball-sized Snitch floating in front of her. Seconds later Harry realized that it was his birthday cake, which Mrs. Weasley was suspending with her wand, rather than risk carrying it over the uneven ground. When the cake had finally landed in the middle of the table, Harry said, “That looks amazing, Mrs. Weasley.” “Oh, it’s nothing, dear,” she said fondly. Over her shoulder, Ron gave Harry the thumbs-up and mouthed, Good one.

Malfoy glanced around. Harry knew he was checking for signs of teachers. Then he looked back at Harry and said in a low voice, “You’re dead, Potter.” Harry raised his eyebrows. “Funny,” he said, “you’d think I’d have stopped walking around….” Malfoy looked angrier than Harry had ever seen him. He felt a kind of detached satisfaction at the sight of his pale, pointed face contorted with rage. “You’re going to pay,” said Malfoy in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “I’m going to make you pay for what you did to my father….” “Well, I’m terrified now,” said Harry sarcastically. “I s’pose Lord Voldemort’s just a warm-up act compared to you three — what’s the matter?” he said, for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had all looked stricken at the sound of the name. “He’s your dad’s mate, isn’t he? Not scared of him, are you?” “You think you’re such a big man, Potter,” said Malfoy, advancing now, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him. “You wait. I’ll have you. You can’t land my father in prison —“ “I thought I just had,” said Harry. “The dementors have left Azkaban,” said Malfoy quietly. “Dad and the others’ll be out in no time….” “Yeah, I expect they will,” said Harry. “Still, at least everyone knows what scumbags they are now —“ Malfoy’s hand flew toward his wand, but Harry was too quick for him. He had drawn his own wand before Malfoy’s had even entered the pocket of his robes.

Mr. Ram was a dedicated person—that means he didn’t let go of the things that were important to him. He was dedicated to Seniors Games Club every week. He got dressed up to go. Everyone knew he was serious about spending time with his friends, that’s how dressed up he was. He was dedicated to people. Even though he was a serious person, with a lot on his mind, he made sure to let you know he remembered you. Always. He smiled at jokes even if they were only sort of funny. He remembered that it was a person who was telling the joke, so he smiled for that person. He was dedicated to reading good books, even if they were from another generation or didn’t make complete sense to him. He read the first Harry Potter when he was ninety years old because someone told him it was good. He would have read the rest of the series if that someone had been able to find the large-type versions in the library for him.* He smiled one of his loudest smiles ever at the Shel Silverstein poem about a pet snowball. But his favorite Shel Silverstein poem was “The Little Boy and the Old Man.” Like the old man in the poem, he was dedicated to someone too, dedicated to helping her find out what the really important things for her were. What she should be dedicated to. She misses him but was happy to have had someone like him in her life. Thank you, Mr. Ram, for the warmth of your hand. *Someone still regrets that they didn’t find the rest of the HP books for him.

Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him. "Er- yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him." "So you must know loads of magic already." The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about. "I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?" "Horrible- well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers." "Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left- Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat." Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff- I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield the information you conceal!" Snape said, hitting the map with his wand. As though an invisible hand were writing upon it, words appeared on the surface of the map. "Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business." Snape froze. Harry stared, dumbstruck, at the message. But the map didn't stop there. More writing was appearing beneath the first. "Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git." It would have been very funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. And there was more... "Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor." Harry closed his eyes in horror. When he'd opened them, the map had had its last word. "Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball." (286 & 287)

Neville’s mother had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. She no longer had the plump, happy-looking face Harry had seen in Moody’s old photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix. Her face was thin and worn now, her eyes seemed overlarge, and her hair, which had turned white, was wispy and dead-looking. She did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she made timid motions toward Neville, holding something in her outstretched hand. “Again?” said Mrs. Longbottom, sounding slightly weary. “Very well, Alice dear, very well — Neville, take it, whatever it is . . .” But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Drooble’s Blowing Gum wrapper. “Very nice, dear,” said Neville’s grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder. But Neville said quietly, “Thanks Mum.” His mother tottered away, back up the ward, humming to herself. Neville looked around at the others, his expression defiant, as though daring them to laugh, but Harry did not think he’d ever found anything less funny in his life. “Well, we’d better get back,” sighed Mrs. Longbottom, drawing on long green gloves. “Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now . . .” But as they left, Harry was sure he saw Neville slip the wrapper into his pocket. The door closed behind them.

The funny thing: I’d worried, if anything, that Boris was the one who was a little too affectionate, if affectionate is the right word. The first time he’d turned in bed and draped an arm over my waist, I lay there half-asleep for a moment, not knowing what to do: staring at my old socks on the floor, empty beer bottles, my paperbacked copy of The Red Badge of Courage. At last—embarrassed—I faked a yawn and tried to roll away, but instead he sighed and pulled me closer, with a sleepy, snuggling motion. Ssh, Potter, he whispered, into the back of my neck. Is only me. It was weird. Was it weird? It was; and it wasn’t. I’d fallen back to sleep shortly after, lulled by his bitter, beery unwashed smell and his breath easy in my ear. I was aware I couldn’t explain it without making it sound like more than it was. On nights when I woke strangled with fear there he was, catching me when I started up terrified from the bed, pulling me back down in the covers beside him, muttering in nonsense Polish, his voice throaty and strange with sleep. We’d drowse off in each other’s arms, listening to music from my iPod (Thelonious Monk, the Velvet Underground, music my mother had liked) and sometimes wake clutching each other like castaways or much younger children. And yet (this was the murky part, this was what bothered me) there had also been other, way more confusing and fucked-up nights, grappling around half-dressed, weak light sliding in from the bathroom and everything haloed and unstable without my glasses: hands on each other, rough and fast, kicked-over beers foaming on the carpet—fun and not that big of a deal when it was actually happening, more than worth it for the sharp gasp when my eyes rolled back and I forgot about everything; but when we woke the next morning stomach-down and groaning on opposite sides of the bed it receded into an incoherence of backlit flickers, choppy and poorly lit like some experimental film, the unfamiliar twist of Boris’s features fading from memory already and none of it with any more bearing on our actual lives than a dream. We never spoke of it; it wasn’t quite real; getting ready for school we threw shoes, splashed water at each other, chewed aspirin for our hangovers, laughed and joked around all the way to the bus stop. I knew people would think the wrong thing if they knew, I didn’t want anyone to find out and I knew Boris didn’t either, but all the same he seemed so completely untroubled by it that I was fairly sure it was just a laugh, nothing to take too seriously or get worked up about. And yet, more than once, I had wondered if I should step up my nerve and say something: draw some kind of line, make things clear, just to make absolutely sure he didn’t have the wrong idea. But the moment had never come. Now there was no point in speaking up and being awkward about the whole thing, though I scarcely took comfort in the fact.

Dear Padfoot, Thank you, thank you, for Harry's birthday present! It was his favorite by far. One year old and already zooming along on a toy broomstick, he looked so pleased with himself. I'm enclosing a picture so you can see. You know it only rises about two feet off the ground, but he nearly killed the cat and he smashed a horrible vase Petunia sent me for Christmas (no complaints there). Of course, James thought it was so funny, says he's going to be a great Quidditch player, but we've had to pack away all the ornaments and make sure we don't take our eyes off him when he gets going. We had a very quiet birthday tea, just us and old Bathilda, who has always been sweet to us and who dotes on Harry. We were so sorry you couldn't come, but the Order's got to come first and Harry's not old enough to know it's his birthday anyway! James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell — also, Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much. Wormy was here last weekend, I thought he seemed down, but that was probably the news about the McKinnons; I cried all evening when I heard. Bathilda drops in most days, she's a fascinating old thing with the most amazing stories about Dumbledore, I'm not sure he'd be pleased if he knew! I don't know how much to believe, actually, because it seems incredible that Dumbledore could ever have been friends with Gellert Grindelwald. I think her mind's going, personally! Lots of love, Lily