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“You have not asked me, for instance, what is my favourite flavour of jam, to check that I am indeed Professor Dumbledore, and not an imposter.' 'I didn't ...' Harry began, not entirely sure whether he was being reprimanded or not. 'For future reference, Harry, it is raspberry ... although of course, if I were a Death Eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam-preferences before impersonating myself.”

“[EN] It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. [PT-BR] Não faz bem viver sonhando e se esquecer de viver.”

“Oh, no, sir, no,' said Dobby, looking suddenly serious. 'Tis part of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir, we upholds the family's honour, and we never speaks ill of them - though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this. Professor Dumbledore said we is free to - to' Dobby looked suddenly nervous, and beckoned Harry closer. Harry bent forwards. Dobby whispered, 'He said we is free to call him a - a barmy old codger if we likes, sir!' Dobby gave a frightened sort of giggle.”

“Harry Potter told his son you’re a great man. [...] He said you were the bravest man he’d ever met. He knew, you see — he knew your secret — what you did for Dumbledore. And he admired you for it — greatly. And that’s why he named his son — my best friend — after you both. Albus Severus Potter.”

“He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand, with a horrible forced smile. He caught Harry's eye and Harry knew at once that Snape's feelings towards him hadn't changed one jot.”

“Czarna magia to mnogość najróżniejszych środków agresji, zmiennych jak kameleon i odwiecznych jak zło i dobro. Walka z nimi przypomina walkę z wielogłowym potworem: utniesz mu jedną głowę, a natychmiast wyrośnie inna, jeszcze groźniejsza i sprytniejsza. To, z czym przychodzi nam walczyć, nigdy nie jest ustalone raz na zawsze, wciąż podlega zmianom, jest niezniszczalne. Wasza obrona musi więc być równie elastyczna i wymyślna jak agresja czarnej magii, którą zamierzacie złamać.”

“Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin, it got heavier and heavier, he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it - then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold - there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking. He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.”

“It was indeed as though ice was flooding his body. He put the bottle down and walked forward; he braced himself, saw the black flames licking his body but couldn't feel them - for a moment he could see nothing but dark fire - then he was on the other side, in the last chamber. There was already someone there - but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort.”

“Silence!' said Snape coldly. 'What have you done with the car?' Ron gulped. This wasn't the first time Snape had given Harry the impression of being able to read minds. But a moment later, he understood, as Snape unrolled today's issue of the Evening Prophet. 'You were seen', he hissed, showing them the headline: FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES.”

“A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley...He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter - the boy who lived!”

“There were relatives of their victims among the Hogwarts students, who now found themselves the unwilling objects of a gruesome sort of reflected fame as they walked the corridors: Susan Bones, whose uncle, aunt, and cousins had all died at the hands of one of the ten, said miserably during Herbology that she now had a good idea what it felt like to be Harry. "And I don't know how you stand it- it's horrible" she said bluntly.”