Hello everyone! I present to you my last installment of my favorite quotes from the Harry Potter series:
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”
“Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love.”
“But this is touching, Severus,” said Dumbledore seriously. “Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?”
“For him?” shouted Snape. “Expecto Patronum!”
From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe. She landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears.
“After all this time?”
“Always,” said Snape.”
“He can run faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo.”
“Not my daughter, you bitch!”
“He must have known I’d want to leave you.”
“No, he must have known you would always want to come back.”
“Albus Severus,” Harry said quietly, so that nobody but Ginny could hear, and she was tactful enough to pretend to be waving to Rose, who was now on the train, “you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew.”
“Cinderella? Snow White? What’s that? An illness?”
“It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well.”
“Here lies Dobby, a free elf.”
“Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it.”
“The idea of a teenage Dumbledore was simply odd, like trying to imagine a stupid Hermione or a friendly Blast-Ended Skrewt.”
“Hello, Minister!” bellowed Percy, sending a neat jinx straight at Thicknesse, who dropped his wand and clawed at the front of his robes, apparently in awful discomfort. “Did I mention I’m resigning?”
“And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred’s eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.”
“But they were not living, thought Harry: They were gone. The empty words could not disguise the fact that his parents’ moldering remains lay beneath snow and stone, indifferent, unknowing. And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? He let them fall, his lips pressed hard together, looking down at the thick snow hiding from his eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.”
“I won’t blast people out of my way just because they’re there’ said Harry. ‘That’s Voldemort’s job.”
‘Don’t these people realise what you’ve been through? What danger you are in? The unique position you hold in the hearts of the anti-Voldemort movement?
‘Er – no, they don’t,’ said Harry. ‘They think I’m a waste of space, actually, but I’m used to -‘
‘I don’t think you’re a waste of space.’
If Harry had not seen Dudley’s lips move, he might not have believed it.”
“Scrimgeour: “It’s time you learned some respect!”
Harry: “It’s time you earned it.”
“Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.”
“That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children’s tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing. Nothing. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped.”
“Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless —unless they’ve got to.”
“When I get married,’ said Fred, tugging at the collar of his own robes. ‘I won’t be bothering with any of this nonsense. You can all wear what you like and I’ll put a full body-bind curse on mum until it’s over.”
“And that’s the second time we’ve saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!’ Ron yelled.”
“He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful; that was one of the many wonderful things about Ginny, she was rarely weepy. He had sometimes thought that having six brothers must have toughened her up.”
“That wand’s more trouble than it’s worth,” said Harry. “And quite honestly,” he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, “I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.”
“If you’re not in Gryffindor, we’ll disinherit you,” said Ron, “but no pressure.”
“Thing was’ he faced them, and Harry was astonished to see that he was grinning, ‘they bit of a bit more than they could chew with Gran. Little old witch living alone, they probably think they didn’t need to send anyone particularly powerful. Anyway’ Neville laughed, ‘Dawlish is still in St Mungo’s and Gran is on the run. She sent me a letter,’ he clapped a hand to the breast pocket of his robes, ‘telling me she was proud of me, that I’m my parents’ son, and to keep it up”
“Being fed, and having a soft bed, and other people being in charge, seemed the most wonderful prospect in the world at that moment.”
“Dobby never meant to kill. He only meant to maim, or seriously injure.”
“The realization of what would happen next settled gradually over Harry in the long minutes, like softly falling snow.
“I’ve got to go back, haven’t I?”
“That is up to you.”
“I’ve got a choice?”
“Oh yes.” Dumbledore smiled at him. “We are in King’s Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to…let’s say…board a train.”
“And where would it take me?”
“On,” said Dumbledore simply.”
“You are the true master of death, because the true master does not seek to run away from Death.”
“Dobby has no master!” squealed the elf. “Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!”
“Have you seen my grandson?” “He’s fighting,” said Harry. “Naturally,” said the old lady proudly. “Excuse me, I must go and assist him.”
“Her arm curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron’s. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands. The idea made him feel strangely lonely.”
“Anything is possible if you’ve got enough nerve.”
“Filch, not now —” The aged caretaker had just come hobbling into view, shouting, “Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!” “They’re supposed to be, you blithering idiot!” shouted McGonagall.”
“Hang on a moment!” said Ron sharply. “We’ve forgotten someone!” “Who?” asked Hermione. “The house-elves, they’ll all be down in the kitchen, won’t they?” “You mean we ought to get them fighting?” asked Harry. “No,” said Ron seriously, “I mean we should tell them to get out. We don’t want any more Dobbies, do we? We can’t order them to die for us —” There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione’s arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet. “Is this the moment?” Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. “OI! There’s a war going on here!” Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other.”
“Sometimes you’ve got to think about more than your own safety! Sometimes you’ve got to think about the greater good!”
“Avada Kedavra!” “Expelliarmus!” The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Harry saw Voldemort’s green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy’s shell.”
“The thing is, it helps when people stand up to them, it gives everyone hope. I used to notice that when you did it, Harry.”
Without meaning to, as you now know, Lord Voldemort doubled the bond between you when he returned to a human form. A part of his soul was still attached to yours, and, thinking to strengthen himself, he took a part of your mother’s sacrifice into himself. If he could only have understood the precise and terrible power of that sacrifice, he would not, perhaps, have dared to touch your blood. . . . But then, if he had been able to understand, he could not be Lord Voldemort, and might never have murdered at all.”
“The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.”
“The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.”
I loved this ending.
And then they had to release the eighth book.
I loved it too. I don’t even consider that an eight book. For me, deathly hallows was the end.