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Harry Quotes

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Harry Quotes

“However', said Dumbledore, speaking very slowly and clearly so that none of them could miss a word, 'you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.' For a second, Harry was almost sure Dumbledore's eyes flickered toward the corner where he and Ron stood hidden.”

“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.”

“The food is ready,” Zil announced to loud cheers. “But we have something more important to do, first, before we can eat.” Groans. “We have to carry out some justice.” That earned a silent stare until Turk and Hank started raising their hands and yelling, showing the crowd how to act. “This mutant, this nonhuman scum here, this freak Hunter…” Zil pointed, arm stretched out, at his captive. “This chud deliberately murdered my best friend, Harry.” “Na troo,” Hunter said. His mouth still didn’t work right. Brain damage, Zil supposed, from the little knock on his head. Half of Hunter’s face drooped like it wasn’t quite attached right. It made it easier for the crowd of kids to sneer at him, and Hunter, yelling in his drooling retard voice, wasn’t helping his case. “He’s a killer!” Zil cried suddenly, smacking his fist into his palm. “A freak! A mutant!” he cried. “And we know what they’re like, right? They always have enough food. They run everything. They’re in charge and we’re all starving. Is that some kind of coincidence? No way.” “Na troo,” Hunter moaned again. “Take him!” Zil cried to Antoine and Hank. “Take him, the murdering mutant scum!” They seized Hunter by the arms. He could walk, but only by dragging one leg. They half carried, half marched him across the plaza. They dragged him up the church steps. “Now,” Zil said, “here is how we’re going to do this.” He waved his hand toward the rope that Lance was unspooling back through the plaza. An expectant pause. A dangerous, giddy feeling. The smell of the meat had them all crazy. Zil could feel it. “You all want some of this delicious venison?” They roared their assent. “Then you’ll all grab on to the rope.”

“They were already out of her lands, and in another day Yorkshire would be behind them altogether. By the end of the week she'd be in London, resuming her life as if this trip had never happened. Three or four months from now, Harry, acting as her land steward, might write to ask if she wanted him to present his report on her lands in person. And she, having just returned from another soiree, might turn the letter over in her hand and muse, Harry Pye. Why, I once lay in his arms. I looked up into his illuminated face as he joined his flesh with mine, and I was alive. She might toss the letter on her desk and think, But that was so long ago now and in a different place. Perhaps it was only a dream. She might think that. George closed her eyes. Somehow she knew that there would never come a day when Harry Pye was not her first memory when she woke and her last thought as she drifted into sleep. She would remember him all the days of her life. Remember and regret.”

“He stopped. She heard the intake of his breath. “You are my country, Desdemona.” Yearning, harsh and poignant and she felt herself swaying toward him. “My Egypt. My hot, harrowing desert and my cool, verdant Nile, infinitely lovely and unfathomable and sustaining.” She gasped. His gaze fell, shielded by his lashes. An odd, half-mocking smile played about his lips. “You’ll never hear old Blake say something like that.” She swallowed, unable to speak, her senses abraded by his stimulating words, her pulse hammering in anticipation? Trepidation? “Remember my words next time he calls you a bloody English rose.”

“She pushed the book towards them, and Harry and Ron read: The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera-lover. Mr Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).”

“What,” Mick said softly, “is Lad doin’ in me bed?” Hearing his name, Lad opened small, piggish, upside-down eyes, gazing with idiotic adoration as his whip-thin tail thumped the covers. “Ah.” Harry scratched behind one ear. “Well, see, ’e was lookin’ so forlorn, like, out in the courtyard by ’imself. Seemed an awful shame to leave ’im there all alone.” “Off!” Mick roared at the dog. Lad’s transformation was instantaneous. His tiny triangle ears folded back, his eyes narrowed worriedly, and he rolled so that he could crawl toward the edge of the bed on his belly. “Is that mud on his paws?” Mick asked in outrage. Harry glanced at the dog. “I do believe it is,” he said as if making a discovery. “Christ!” Mick watched disgustedly as Lad made the edge of the bed and slithered off, thumping to the floor. The dog seemed to think that his apology was done—or perhaps he’d already forgotten that Mick was mad at him—for he gamboled over as frisky as a lamb. “He’s not even me dog,” Mick muttered. Lad sat, one back leg sprawled out to the side, tongue hanging from his mouth, and grinned up at him. He completely ignored Harry, his supposed master. “The dog ’as a wonderful affection for ye,” Harry said brightly.”

“I began shoving pills into his mouth. I didn’t have time for this. I wanted to call my son and see that he was okay, talk to my wife and assure her everything was fine. After his mouth was full of pills, I pushed his head under the water, forcing him to gulp down or choke up. I repeated the action three times, until I was sure he’d swallowed enough drugs to kill a Game of Thrones dragon. His bloodstream would soon be more contaminated than Chernobyl circa 1986.”

“You'll write to me, won't you?" Albus asked his parents immediately, capitalizing on the momentary absence of his brother. "Every day, if you want us to," said Ginny. "Not every day," said Albus quickly. "James says most people only get letters from home about once a month." "We wrote to James three times a week last year," said Ginny. "And you don't want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts," Harry put in. "He likes a laugh, your brother.”

“Dear Ron, and Harry if you're there, "I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble, too. I've been really worried and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl, because I think another delivery might finish your one off. I'm very busy with my schoolwork, of course' ---'and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley? Let me know what's happening as soon as you can. Love from Hermione.”

“It matters', said Hermione, speaking at last in a hushed voice, 'because being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent.' Harry's mouth fell open. 'Exactly' said Ron. 'And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great-great-grandson or something -' 'But I'm not', said Harry, with a panic he couldn't quite explain. 'You'll find that hard to prove', said Hermione. 'He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be.”

“I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle,' said Sirius. 'But...well...think about it. Once my name's cleared...if you wanted a...a different home...' Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry's stomach. 'What - live with you?' he said, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. 'Leave the Dursleys?' 'Of course. I thought you wouldn't want to' said Sirius quickly. 'I understand. I just thought I'd -' 'Are you mad?' said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Sirius. 'Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?”

“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.”

“HARRY: Voldemort is going to kill my mum and dad — and there’s nothing I can do to stop him. DRACO: That’s not true. SCORPIUS: Dad, now is not the time . . . ALBUS: There is something you could do — to stop him. But you won’t. DRACO: That’s heroic. GINNY takes HARRY’s hand. GINNY: You don’t have to watch, Harry. We can go home. HARRY: I’m letting it happen . . . Of course I have to watch. HERMIONE: Then we’ll all witness it. RON: We’ll all watch.”

“-Nie rozpaczam, Harry. Ale cierpię... o tak, w tym mam doświadczenie. Dziwisz się, że nie jestem szczęśliwa, skoro umiem tańczyć i tak pewnie poruszam się po powierzchni życia. A ja przyjacielu dziwię się, że życie cię tak rozczarowało, skoro jesteś wtajemniczony właśnie w najpiękniejsze i najgłębsze sprawy ducha, sztuki i myśli! Dlatego poczuliśmy pociąg do siebie, dlatego jesteśmy rodzeństwem. Będę cię uczyła tańczyć, bawić się i uśmiechać, a przecież nie odczuwać zadowolenia. Od ciebie zaś nauczę się myśleć, gromadzić wiedzę, a mimo to nie odczuwać zadowolenia. Czy wiesz, że my obydwoje jesteśmy dziećmi diabła?”

“But Harry - what if You-Know-Who's with him?' 'Well - I was lucky once, wasn't I?' said Harry, pointing at his scar.' I might get lucky again.' Hermione's lip trembled and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him. 'Hermione!' 'Harry - you're a great wizard, you know.' 'I'm not as good as you', said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. 'Me!' said Hermione. 'Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and - oh Harry - be careful!”