“Obviously I’ll never be in anything with the commercial success that Harry Potter has but then again neither will anyone else.”
Within five minutes Harry was soaked to his skin and frozen, hardly able to see his teammates, let alone the tiny Snitch. He flew backward and forward across the field past blurred red and yellow shapes, with no idea of what was happening in the rest of the game. He couldn’t hear the commentary over the wind. The crowd was hidden beneath a sea of cloaks and battered umbrellas.
He turned, intending to head back toward the middle of the field, but at that moment, another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, and Harry saw something that distracted him completely, the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats.
Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs; Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers
People find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than being right.
There was no waking from this nightmare, no comforting whisper in the dark that he was safe really, that it was all in his imagination; the last and greatest of his protectors had died, and he was more alone than he had ever been.
"The Third Task," Goblet of Fire
I love Fleur Delacour, okay? See the boy. Want the boy. GET THE BOY. KEEP THE BOY FOREVER AND DON’T CARE IF THE BOY GETS MAULED BY A WEREWOLF.
"I have often said that Hermione is a bit like me when I was younger. I think I was seen by other people as a right little know-it-all, but I hope that it is clear that underneath Hermione’s swottiness there is a lot of insecurity and a great fear of failure".
– J.K. Rowling