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“Draco, do it, or stand aside so one of us -" screeched the woman, but at that precise moment the door to the ramparts burst open once more and there stood Snape, his wand clutched in his hand as his black eyes swept the scene, from Dumbledore slumped against the wall, to the four Death Eaters, including the enraged werewolf, and Malfoy. "We've got a problem, Snape," said the lumpy Amycus, whose eyes and wand were fixed alike upon Dumbledore, "the boy doesn't seem able -" But somebody else had spoken Snape's name, quite softly. "Severus ..." The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading. Snape said nothing, but walked forwards and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed. Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face. "Severus ... please ..." Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. "Avada Kedavra!”

“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?”

“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.”