‘But for heaven’s sake – you’re wizards! You can do magic! Surely you can sort out – well – anything!’ Scrimgeour turned slowly on the spot and exchanged an incredulous look with Fudge, who really did manage a smile this time as he said kindly, ‘The trouble is, the other side can do magic too, Prime Minister.’
‘I don’t mean to be rude –’ he began, in a tone that threatened rudeness in every syllable. ‘– yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often,’ Dumbledore finished the sentence gravely. ‘Best to say nothing at all, my dear man.
‘And now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.’
He enjoys the feeling that he influences these people. He has never wanted to occupy the throne himself; he prefers the back seat – more room to spread out, you see.
‘Arthur, is that you?’ ‘Yes,’ came Mr Weasley’s weary voice. ‘But I would say that even if I were a Death Eater, dear. Ask the question!’ ‘Oh, honestly …’ ‘Molly!’ ‘All right, all right … what is your dearest ambition?’ ‘To find out how aeroplanes stay up.’
‘Dumbledore says people find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than being right,’
‘I enjoyed the meetings, too,’ said Luna serenely. ‘It was like having friends.’
‘Anapneo,’ said Slughorn calmly, pointing his wand at Belby, whose airway seemed to clear at once.
‘Tergeo!’ and siphoned off the dried blood.
‘It’s Amortentia!’ ‘It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask,’ said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, ‘but I assume you know what it does?’ ‘It’s the most powerful love potion in the world!’ said Hermione.
it’s supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and –’ But
you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?’ ‘It’s liquid luck,’ said Hermione excitedly. ‘It makes you lucky!’
He did not usually lie in bed reading his textbooks; that sort of behaviour, as Ron rightly said, was indecent in anybody except Hermione, who was simply weird that way.
Muffliato, a spell that filled the ears of anyone nearby with an unidentifiable buzzing, so that lengthy conversations could be held in class without being overheard.
Ron was dangling upside-down in midair as though an invisible hook had hoisted him up by the ankle.
Liberacorpus! with all his might. There was another flash of light and Ron fell in a heap on to his mattress.
‘Oppugno!’ came a shriek from the doorway. Harry spun round to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: the little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets towards Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.
‘You’re making Stan a scapegoat, just like you want to make me a mascot.’
As though he had read Harry’s mind, Dumbledore shook his head. ‘Ah, Harry, how often this happens, even between the best of friends! Each of us believes that what he has to say is much more important than anything the other might have to contribute!’
‘Destination, Determination, Deliberation!
‘Step one: fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination,’
‘Step two,’ said Twycross, ‘focus your determination to occupy the visualised space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!’
‘Step three,’ called Twycross, ‘and only when I give the command … turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation!
‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good
When there’s strife and when there’s trouble Call on Peevsie, he’ll make double!’
‘Langlock!’ Peeves clutched at his throat, gulped, then swooped from the room making obscene gestures but unable to speak, owing to the fact that his tongue had just glued itself to the roof of his mouth.
‘They do not call me “Tom” any more,’ he said. ‘These days, I am known as –’ ‘I know what you are known as,’ said Dumbledore, smiling pleasantly. ‘But to me, I’m afraid, you will always be Tom Riddle. It is one of the irritating things about old teachers, I am afraid, that they never quite forget their charges’ youthful beginnings.’
Voldemort’s expression remained impassive as he said, ‘Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, spite spawns lies. You must know this, Dumbledore.’
‘But you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you – sorry, I mean, if you can’t tell me, obviously – I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could – so I just thought I’d ask –’ It was very well done, thought Harry, the hesitancy, the casual tone, the careful flattery, none of it overdone.
Voldemort himself created his worst enemy, just as tyrants everywhere do! Have you any idea how much tyrants fear the people they oppress? All of them realise that, one day, amongst their many victims, there is sure to be one who rises against them and strikes back! Voldemort is no different!
‘You see, the prophecy does not mean you have to do anything! But the prophecy caused Lord Voldemort to mark you as his equal … in other words, you are free to choose your way, quite free to turn your back on the prophecy!
It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew – and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents – that there was all the difference in the world.
Harry did not ask how Dumbledore knew. He had never seen a wizard work things out like this, simply by looking and touching; but Harry had long since learned that bangs and smoke were more often the marks of ineptitude than expertise.
age is foolish and forgetful when it underestimates youth
‘There is nothing to be feared from a body, Harry, any more than there is anything to be feared from the darkness. Lord Voldemort, who of course secretly fears both, disagrees. But once again he reveals his own lack of wisdom. It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.’
with a great rush of affection for both of them, Harry saw Neville being helped into a seat by Luna. They alone of all the DA had responded to Hermione’s summons the night that Dumbledore had died, and Harry knew why: they were the ones who had missed the DA most … probably the ones who had checked their coins regularly in the hope that there would be another meeting …
how he and Dumbledore had discussed fighting a losing battle not long thereafter. It was important, Dumbledore said, to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then could evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated … And
‘He will only be gone from the school when none here are loyal to him,’ said Harry, smiling in spite of himself.