From Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone
The Sorting Hat: "Hmmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult.
Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent,
oh my goodness yes -- and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's
interesting.... So where shall I put you?"
To Snape: "I don't know, I think Hermione does though, why don't you
try her."
"Firenze!" Bane thundered. "What are you doing? You have a human on your
back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"
"Do you realize who this is?" said Firenze. "This is the Potter boy. The quicker
he leaves this forest, the better."
"What have you been telling him?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn
not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in
the movements of the planets?"
Ronan pawed the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for
the best," he said in his gloomy voice.
Bane kicked his legs in anger.
"For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has
been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray
humans in our forest!"
"Do you see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed at Bane. "Do you not understand why
it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself
against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I
must."
Firenze: "Good luck, Harry Potter," said Firenze. "The planets have
been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those
times."
Ron: "Yeah, and lucky Harry doesn't lose his head in a crisis --
'There's no wood,' honestly."
From Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
"Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never
knew..."
"Hang on..." Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff
table.... Where's Snape?"
"Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully.
"Maybe he's left," said Harry, 'because he missed out on the Defence
Against the Dark Arts job again!"
"Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean,
everyone hates him --"
"Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why
you two didn't arrive on the school train."
Harry spun around. There, his black robes rippling in a cold breeze, stood
Severus Snape. He was a thin man with sallow skin, a hooked nose and greasy,
shoulder-length black hair, and at this moment, he was smiling in a way that
told Harry he and Ron were in very deep trouble.
Nick: "Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on, Harry!
Most people would think that's good and beheaded, but oh, no, it's not enough
for Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore."
Dobby: "Ah, if only Harry Potter knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears
dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "If only he knew what he means to us, the
lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was
when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir!"
Peeves: "Oh Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done, / You're
killing off students, you think it's good fun--"
Fred & George: "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil
wizard coming through."
Moaning Myrtle: "You're alive," she said blankly to Harry.
"There's no need to sound so disappointed," he said grimly, wiping flecks of
blood and slime off his glasses.
"Oh, well ... I'd just been thinking ... if you had died, you'd have been
welcome to share my toilet," said Myrtle, blushing silver.
Dumbledore: "Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his
own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to
do, I'm sure...."
Dumbledore: "Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities
Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift,
Parseltongue -- resourcefulness -- determination -- a certain disregard for
rules. Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was.
Think. [...] It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more
than our abilities."
From Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
Aunt Marge to Harry: "I still don't like your tone, boy," she said.
"If you can speak of your beatings in that casual way, they clearly aren't
hitting you hard enough. Petunia, I'd write if I were you. Make it clear that
you approve the use of extreme force in this boy's case."
Ginny, who had always been very taken with Harry, seemed even more heartily
embarrassed than usual when she saw him, perhaps because he had saved her life
during their previous year at Hogwarts. She went very red and muttered "hello"
without looking at him. Percy, however, held out his hand solemnly as though he
and Harry had never met and said, "Harry. How nice to see you."
"Hello, Percy," said Harry, trying not to laugh.
"I hope you're well?" said Percy pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like
being introduced to the mayor.
"Very well, thanks--"
"Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply
splendid to see you, old boy--"
"Marvelous,"' said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn.
"Absolutely spiffing."
What to do when you know the worst is coming....
"I'm not going to be murdered," Harry said out loud. "That's the
spirit, dear," said his mirror sleepily. "What to do..." refers
to the book on death omens Harry saw in Diagon Alley.)
To Arthur Weasley: "I'm not trying to be a hero, but seriously,
Sirius Black can't be worse than Voldemort, can he?" (PA)
To Hermione: "I don't go looking for trouble," said Harry nettled.
"Trouble usually finds me."
Madam Pomfrey: "Oh, it's you, is it?" said Madam Pomfrey. "I suppose
you've been doing something dangerous again?"
He stopped on a picture of his parents' wedding day. There was his father
waving up at him, beaming, the untidy black hair Harry had inherited standing up
in all directions. There was his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with
his dad. And there ... that must be him. Their best man ... Harry had never
given him a thought before.
Oliver Wood: "Bad news, Harry. I've just been to see Professor
McGonagall about the Firebolt. She - er got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd
got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than
I do about staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you
off, as long as you caught the Snitch first."
Draco: "Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" said a cold,
drawling voice. Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle
right behind him.
"Yeah, reckon so," said Harry casually.
"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Malfoy, eyes glittering
maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute--in case you get too near a
Dementor." Crabbe and Goyle snickered.
"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," said Harry. "Then it
could catch the Snitch for you."
Snape's eyes were boring into Harry's. It was exactly like trying to stare
down a hippogriff. Harry tried hard not to blink.
Snape: "What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Potter?"
said Snape softly. "Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body
has permission to be in Hogsmeade."
"How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter," Snape said suddenly,
his eyes glinting. "He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on
the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut above the rest of us too.
Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers ... The resemblance
between you is uncanny."
Lupin: "Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A
poor way to repay them -- gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks."
Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell
rapidly as he watched Harry walking slowly nearer, his wand pointing straight at
Black's heart.
"Going to kill me, Harry?" he whispered.
To Sirius: "Are you insane?" said Harry, his voice easily as croaky
as Black's. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When
can I move in?"
Fudge: "Ah well, Snape ... Harry Potter, you know ... we've all got
a bit of a blind spot where he's concerned."
Snape: "And yet -- is it good for him to be given so much special
treatment? Personally, I try and treat him like any other student."
It stopped on the bank. Its hooves made no mark on the soft ground as it
stared at Harry with its large, silver eyes. Slowly, it bowed its antlered head.
And Harry realized . . . "Prongs," he whispered.
Sirius: "We'll see each other again," he said. "You are -- truly
your father's son, Harry..."
Dumbledore: "You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You
think we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble?
Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself plainly when you have need
of him. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs
rode again last night."
To the Dursleys: "He was my mum and dad's best friend. He's a
convicted murderer, but he's broken out of wizard prison and he's on the run. He
likes to keep in touch with me, though ... keep up with news ... check if I'm
happy ..."
From Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Prof. Trelawney: "You are preoccupied, my dear," she said mournfully
to Harry. "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within.
And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times
ahead for you, alas ... most difficult ... I fear the thing you dread will
indeed come to pass ... and perhaps sooner than you think ..."
'Mad Eye' Moody on the Avada Kedavra curse: "Not nice," he said
calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no counter curse. There's no blocking it.
Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of
me."
'Mad Eye' Moody: "Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit
of magic behind it -- you could all get your wands out now and point them at me
and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed."
Harry moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that
Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and
said, "Imperio!"
It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every
thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a
vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only
dimly aware of everyone watching him.
[...]
Jump onto the desk....
Why, though? Another voice had awoken in the back of his brain.
[...]
"Look at that, you lot ... Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat
it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention -- watch
his eyes, that's where you see it -- very good, Potter, very good indeed!
They'll have trouble controlling you!"
Harry seized one of the POTTER REALLY STINKS badges off the table and chucked
it, as hard as he could, across the room. It hit Ron on the forehead and bounced
off.
"There you go," Harry said. "Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might
even have a scar now, if you're lucky.... That's what you want, isn't it?"
Dumbledore looked very intensely at Harry for a moment, and then said, "I
have a theory, no more than that ... It is my belief that your scar hurts both
when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong
surge of hatred."
"But ... why?"
"Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed," said Dumbledore.
"That is no ordinary scar."
As Harry took off his glasses and climbed into his four-poster, he imagined
how it must feel to have parents still living but unable to recognize you.
"We bow to each other, Harry," said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping
his snakelike face upturned to Harry. "Come, the niceties will be observed....
Dumbledore would like you to show manners.... Bow to death, Harry...."
[...]
"Very good," said Voldemort softly, and as he raised his wand the pressure
bearing down on Harry lifted too. "And now you face me, like a man ...
straight-backed and proud, the way your father died...
"And now -- we duel."
And Harry felt for the third time in his life, the sensation that his mind
had been wiped of all thought... Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as
though he were floating, dreaming ... just answer no ... say no ... just
answer no....
I will not, said a stronger voice, in the back of his head. I won't
answer....
Just answer no....
I won't do it, I won't say it...
Just answer no...
"I WON'T!"
And as he heard Voldemort draw nearer still, he knew one thing only, and it
was beyond fear or reason: He was not doing to die crouching here like a child
playing hide-and-seek; he was going to die upright like his father, and he was
going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defense was possible....
The smoky shadow of a tall man with untidy hair fell to the ground as Bertha
had done, straightened up, and looked at him ... and Harry, his arms shaking
madly now, looked back into the ghostly face of his father.
"Your mother's coming..." he said quietly. "She wants to see you ... it will be
all right ... hold on...."
And she came ... first her head, then her body ... a young woman with long hair,
the smoky, shadowy form of Lily Potter blossomed from the end of Voldemort's
wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like her husband. She walked close to
Harry, looking down at him, and she spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as
the others, but quietly, so that Voldemort, his face now livid with fear as his
victims prowled around him, could not hear....
"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments ... but we will
give you time ... you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts
... do you understand, Harry?"
At that moment, Harry fully understood for the first time why people said
Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. The look upon
Dumbledore's face as he stared down at the unconscious form of Mad-Eye Moody was
more terrible than Harry could have ever imagined. There was no benign smile
upon Dumbledore's face, no twinkle in the eyes behind the spectacles. There was
cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from
Dumbledore as though he were giving off burning heat.
When Harry told of Wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger, however, Sirius
let out a vehement exclamation and Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Harry
started. Dumbledore walked around the desk and told Harry to stretch out his
arm. Harry showed them both the place where his robes were torn and the cut
beneath them.
"He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's,"
Harry told Dumbledore. "He said the protection my -- my mother left in me --
he'd have it too. And he was right -- he could touch me without hurting himself,
he touched my face."
For a fleeting instant, Harry thought he saw a gleam of something like triumph
in Dumbledore's eyes.
"I will say it again," said Dumbledore as the phoenix rose into the air and
resettled itself upon the perch beside the door. "You have shown bravery beyond
anything I could have expected of you tonight, Harry. You have shown bravery
equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have
shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it [....]"
Hagrid: "No good sittin' worryin' abou' it," he said. "What's comin'
will come, an' we'll meet it when it does."
Draco: "Trying not to think about it, are we?" said Malfoy softly,
looking around at all three of them."Trying to pretend it hasn't happened?"
"Get out," said Harry.
He had not been this close to Malfoy since he had watched him muttering to
Crabbe and Goyle during Dumbledore's speech about Cedric. He could feel a kind
of ringing in his ears. His hand gripped his wand under his robes.
"You've picked the losing side, Potter! I warned you! I told you you ought to
choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first
day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this!" He
jerked his head at Ron and Hermione. "Too late now, Potter! They'll be the first
to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well --
second -- Diggory was the f--"
It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment.
Blinded by the blaze of the spells that had blasted from every direction,
deafened by a series of bangs, Harry blinked and looked down on the floor.
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all lying unconscious in the doorway. He, Ron,
and Hermione were on their feet, all three of them having used a different hex.
Nor were they the only ones to have done so.
"Thought we'd see what those three were up to," said Fred matter-of-factly,
stepping onto Goyle and into the compartment. He had his wand out, and so did
George, who was careful to tread on Malfoy as he followed Fred inside.
"Interesting effect," said George, looking down at Crabbe. "Who used the
Furnunculus Curse?"
"Me," said Harry.
"Odd," said George lightly, "I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two
shouldn't be mixed."
There was no point in worrying yet, he told himself, as he got into the back
of the Dursley's car.
As Hagrid had said, what would come, would come ... and he would have to meet it
when it did.
From Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
"How long have you been 'Big D' then?" said Harry.
"Shut it," snarled Dudley, turning away again.
"Cool name," said Harry, grinning, "But you'll always be Ickle Diddykins to me."
"Shut your face."
"You don't tell her to shut her face. What about 'popkin' and 'Dinky Diddydums,'
can I use them then?"
"You don't want to bottle your anger up like that, Harry, let it all out,"
said Fred, also beaming. "There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who
didn't hear you."
Luna Lovegood on thestrals: "Oh, yes," said Luna, "I've been able to
see them ever since my first day here. They've always pulled the carriages.
Don't worry. You're just as sane as I am."
"Been having a nice little chat with her about whether or not I'm a lying,
attention-seeking prat, have you?" Harry said loudly.
"No," said Hermione calmly, "I told her to keep her big fat mouth shut about
you, actually. And it would be quite a nice if you stopped jumping down Ron's
and my throats, Harry, because if you haven't noticed, we're on your side."
Peeves: "Oh, most think he's barking, the Potty wee lad,
But some are more kindly and think he's just sad,
But Peevsy knows better and says that he's mad --"
McGonagall: "For heaven's sake, Potter!" said Professor McGonagall,
straightening her glasses angrily, "Do you really think this is about truth or
lies? It's about keeping your head down and your temper under control!"
Hermione: "Harry, don't go picking a row with Malfoy, don't forget,
he's a prefect now, he could make life difficult for you...."
"Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life?" said Harry
sarcastically.
"I was thinking the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you
know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really
useful --."
"Oh please," said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes and folding his
arms. "I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against
You-Know-Who, do you?"
"I've used it against him," said Harry quietly. "It saved my life last June."
Smith opened his mouth stupidly. The rest of the room was very quiet.
"But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave."
"Well?" said Ron finally, looking up at Harry. "How was it?"
Harry considered for a moment.
"Wet," he said truthfully.
Ron made a noise that might have indicated jubilation or disgust, it was hard to
tell.
"Because she was crying," Harry continued heavily.
"Oh," said Ron, his smile fading slightly. "Are you that bad at kissing?"
"Dunno," said Harry, who hadn't considered this, and immediately felt rather
worried. "Maybe I am."
"So that's it, is it?" he said loudly, "Stay there?" That's all
anyone could tell me after I got attacked by those dementors too! Just stay put
while the grown-ups sort it out, Harry! We won't bother telling you anything,
though, because your tiny little brain might not be able to cope with it!"
"You know, " said Phineas Nigellus, even more loudly than Harry, "this is
precisely why I loathed being a teacher! Young people are so infernally
convinced that they are right about everything."
"I didn't want anyone to talk to me," said Harry, who was feeling more and
more nettled.
"Well, that was a bit stupid of you," said Ginny angrily, "seeing as you don't
know anyone but me who's been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how
it feels."
Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him. Then he wheeled
around.
"I forgot," he said.
"Lucky you," said Ginny coolly.
Sirius:
"I want you to take this," he said quietly, thrusting a badly wrapped package
roughly the size of a paperback book into Harry's hands.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"A way of letting me know if
Snape's giving you a
hard time. No, don't open it here!" said Sirius, with a wary look at Mrs.
Weasley, "I doubt Molly would approve -- but I want you to use it if you need
me, alright?"
Snape: "The usual rules do not seem to apply to you, Potter. The
curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection
between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that at times, when your
mind is most relaxed and vulnerable -- when you are asleep, for instance -- you
are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. The headmaster thinks it
inadvisable for this to continue. He wishes me to teach you how to close your
mind to the Dark Lord."
"How come I saw through the snake's eyes if it's
Voldemort's
thoughts I'm sharing?"
"Do not say the Dark Lord's name! spat
Snape.
Snape has just
made Harry remember how Cedric died: "I told you to empty yourself of
emotion!"
"Yeah? Well, I'm finding that hard at the moment," Harry snarled.
"Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!" said Snape savagely.
"Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their
emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this
easily -- weak people, in other words -- they stand no chance against his
powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!"
"That is just as well, Potter," said Snape coldly, "because you are neither
special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is
saying to his Death Eaters."
"No -- that's your job, isn't it?" Harry shot at him.
He had not meant to say it; it had burst out of him in temper. For a long moment
they stared at each other, Harry convinced he had gone too far. But there was a
curious, almost satisfied expression on
Snape's face when he
answered.
"Yes, Potter," he said, his eyes glinting. "That is my job."
Snape's worst
memory: Harry stopped in front of the desk and gazed down at his
fifteen-year-old father.
Excitement exploded in the pit of his stomach: it was as though he was looking
at himself but with deliberate mistakes.
James's eyes were
hazel, his nose was slightly longer than Harry's, and there was no scar on his
forehead, but they had the same thin face, same mouth, same eyebrows.
James's hair stuck up
at the back exactly as Harry's did, his hands could have been Harry's, and Harry
could tell that when
James stood up, they would be within an inch of each other's heights.
Snape's worst
memory: With another shock of excitement, Harry saw Sirius give James the
thumbs-up. Sirius was lounging in his chair at his ease, tilting it back on two
legs. He was very good-looking; his dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of
casual elegance neither James's nor Harry's could ever have achieved, and a girl
sitting behind him was eyeing him hopefully though he didn't seem to have
noticed.
Snape's worst
memory: Lupin had pulled out a book and was reading. Sirius stared around
at the students milling over the grass, looking rather haughty and bored, but
very handsomely so. James was still playing with the Snitch, letting it zoom
farther and farther away, almost escaping but always grabbed at the last second.
Wormtail was watching him with his mouth open. Every time James made a
particularly difficult catch, Wormtail gasped and applauded. After five minutes
of this, Harry wondered why James didn't tell Wormtail to get a grip on himself,
but James seemed to be enjoying the attention. Harry noticed his father had a
habit of rumpling up his hair as though to make sure it did not get too tidy,
and also that he kept looking over at the girls by the water's edge.
Snape's worst
memory: "This will liven you up, Padfoot," said
James quietly. "Look
who it is..."
"Excellent," he said softly. "Snivellus."
Harry turned to see what
Sirius was looking
at.
Snape was on his feet
again, and was stowing the O.W.L. paper in his bag. As he emerged from the
shadows of the bushes and set off across the grass,
Sirius and
James stood up.
Lupin and
Wormtail remained
sitting: Lupin was
still staring down at his book, though his eyes were not moving and a faint
frown line had appeared between his eyebrows.
Wormtail was
looking from Sirius
and James to
Snape with a look of
avid anticipation on his face.
"All right, Snivellus?" said
James loudly.
Snape reacted so fast
it was as though he had been expecting an attack. Dropping his bag, he plunged
his hand inside his robes, and his wand was halfway into the air when
James shouted "Expelliarmus!"
Snape's wand flew
twelve feet into the air and fell with a little thud in the grass behind him.
Sirius let out a bark
of laughter. "Impedimenta!" he said, pointing his wand at
Snape, who was
knocked off his feet, halfway through a dive toward his own fallen wand.
Students all around had turned to watch. Some of them had gotten to their feet
and were edging nearer to watch. Some looked apprehensive, others entertained.
Snape lay panting on
the ground. James and
Sirius advanced on
him, wands up, James
glancing over his shoulder at the girls at the water's edge as he went.
Wormtail was on
his feet now, watching hungrily, edging around
Lupin to get a
clearer view.
"How'd the exam go Snivelly?" said
James.
"I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment," said
Sirius viciously.
"There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."
[...]
"Leave him ALONE!"
James and
Sirius looked around.
James's free hand
jumped to his hair again.
It was one of the girls from the lake edge. She had thick dark red hair that
fell to her shoulders and startlingly green almond-shaped eyes -- Harry's eyes.
Harry's mother...
Snape's worst
memory: "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily shouted. She had her own wand out now.
James and
Sirius eyed it
warily.
"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," said
James earnestly.
"Take the curse off him, then!"
James sighed deeply,
then turned to Snape
and muttered the countercurse.
"There you go," he said, as
Snape struggled to
his feet again, "you're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus--"
"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"
Snape's worst
memory: "You're as bad as he is..."
"What!" yelped James.
"I'd NEVER call you a -- you-know-what!"
"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just
gotten off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down
corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can -- I'm surprised
your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me
SICK."
Snape's worst
memory: "So," said
Snape, gripping Harry's arm so tightly Harry's hand was starting to feel
numb. "So ... been enjoying yourself, Potter?"
"N-no ..." said Harry, trying to free his arm.
It was scary: Snape's
lips were shaking, his face was white, his teeth were bared.
"Amusing man, your father, wasn't he?" said
Snape, shaking Harry
so hard that his glasses slipped down his nose.
"I -- didn't --"
Snape threw Harry
from him with all his might. Harry fell hard onto the dungeon floor.
"You will not repeat what you saw to anybody!"
Snape bellowed.
"No," said Harry, getting to his feet as far from
Snape as he could,
"No, of course I w--"
"Get out, get out, I don't want to see you in this office ever again!"
And as Harry hurtled toward the door, a jar of dead cockroaches exploded over
his head.
What was making Harry feel so horrified and unhappy was not being shouted at
or having jars thrown at him -- it was that he knew how it felt to be humiliated
in the middle of a circle of onlookers, knew exactly how Snape had felt as his
father had taunted him, and that judging from what he had seen, his father had
been every bit as arrogant as Snape had always told him.
Harry reminded himself that Lily had intervened; his mother had been decent,
yet the memory of the look on her face as she had shouted at James disturbed him
quite as much as anything else. She had clearly loathed James and Harry simply
could not understand how they could have ended up married.
Umbridge: "Potter has no chance whatsoever of becoming an Auror!"
Professor McGonagall got to her feet too, and in her case this was a much more
impressive move. She towered over Professor Umbridge.
"Potter," she said in ringing tones, "I will assist you to become an Auror
if it is the last thing I do!"
Lupin: "I
wouldn't want you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry. He was only
fifteen --"
"I'm fifteen!" said Harry heatedly.
"Look Harry," said Sirius
placatingly, "James
and Snape hated each
other from the moment they set eyes on each other, it was just one of those
things, you can understand that, can't you? I think
James was everything
Snape wanted to be --
he was popular, he was good at Quidditch, good at pretty much everything. And
Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts and
James -- whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry -- always hated the
Dark Arts."
"And," said Harry doggedly, determined to say everything that was on his mind
now he was here, "he kept looking over at the girls by the lake, hoping they
were watching him!"
"Oh well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around," said
Sirius, shrugging.
"He couldn't stop himself showing off whenever he got near her."
"How come she married him?" Harry asked miserably, "She hated him!"
"Nah, she didn't," said
Sirius.
"She started going out with him in seventh year," said
Lupin.
"Once James had
deflated his head a bit," said
Sirius.
"And stopped hexing people for the fun of it," said Lupin.
Hermione: "This isn't a criticism, Harry! But you do ... sort of ...
I mean -- don't you think you've got a bit of a -- a -- saving people thing?"
she said. [Harry responds] "...I mean, that was really great of you and
everything," said Hermione quickly, looking positively petrified at the look on
Harry's face. "Everyone thought it was a wonderful thing to do --"
Lupin: "There's nothing you can do, Harry ... nothing .... He's
gone."
Bellatrix: "Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?"
she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now. "You need to mean
them Potter! You need to really want to cause pain -- to enjoy it -- righteous
anger won't hurt me for long -- I'll show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give
you a lesson --"
Harry to
Dumbledore: "I don't want to talk about how I feel, all right?"
"Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of
being human --"
"THEN -- I -- DON'T -- WANT -- TO -- BE -- HUMAN!" Harry roared.
Dumbledore:
"She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows
in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother's blood. I
delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative."
"She doesn't love me," said Harry at once. "She doesn't give a damn --"
"But she took you,"
Dumbledore cut across him. "She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously,
unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the
charm I placed upon you. Your mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the
strongest shield I could give you."
"I still don't --"
"While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, there
you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on
in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only
once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt
you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left,
with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have
kept you alive for the past fifteen years."
Dumbledore:
"Five years ago, then," continued Dumbledore, as though he had not paused
in his story, "you arrived at Hogwarts, neither as happy nor as well-nourished
as I would have liked, perhaps, yet alive and healthy. You were not a pampered
little prince, but as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the
circumstances."
Dumbledore:
"I cared about you too much," said
Dumbledore
simply. "I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for
your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be
lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as
Voldemort expects
we fools who love to act."
"Is there a defense? I defy anyone who has watched you as I have — and I have
watched you more closely than you can have imagined — not to want to save you
more pain than you had already suffered. What did I care if numbers of nameless
and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in
the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy? I never dreamed that I
would have such a person on my hands."
Dumbledore:
"Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy
made shortly before your birth. He knew the prophecy had been made, though he
did not know its full contents. He set out to kill you when you were still a
baby, believing he was fulfilling the terms of the prophecy. He discovered, to
his cost, that he was mistaken, when the curse intended to kill you backfired.
And so since his return to his body, and particularly since your extraordinary
escape from him last year, he has been determined to hear that prophecy in its
entirety. This is the weapon he has been seeking so assiduously since his
return: the knowledge of how to destroy you."
Dumbledore:
"... the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort
for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would
be born to parents who had already defied
Voldemort three
times."
Harry felt as though something was closing in upon him. His breathing seemed
difficult again.
"It means -- me?"
Dumbledore
surveyed him for a moment through his glasses.
"The odd thing is, Harry," he said softly, "that it may not have meant you at
all. Sibyll's prophecy could have applied to two wizard boys, born at the end of
July that year, both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, both sets
of parents having narrowly escaped
Voldemort three
times. One, of course was you. The other was Neville Longbottom."
Dumbledore:
"He chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him," said
Dumbledore. "And notice this, Harry. He chose, not the pure-blood (which
according to his creed, is the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing), but
the half-blood like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you,
and in marking you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave
you powers, and a future, which have fitted you to escape him not once, but four
times so far -- something that neither your parents, nor Neville's parents, ever
achieved."
Dumbledore:
"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," interrupted
Dumbledore,
"that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more
wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of
nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study
that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in
such quantities and which
Voldemort has not
at all. That power took you to save
Sirius tonight. That
power also saved you from possession by
Voldemort,
because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests.
In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your
heart that saved you."
Harry closed his eyes. If he had not gone to save
Sirius,
Sirius would not have
died.... More to stave off the moment when he would have to think of
Sirius again, Harry
asked, without caring much about the answer, "The end of the prophecy ... it was
something about ... 'neither one can live...'"
"'...while the other survives,'" said
Dumbledore.
"So," said Harry, dredging up the words from what he felt like a deep well of
despair inside him, "so does that mean that ... that one of us has got to kill
the other one ... in the end?"
"Yes," said
Dumbledore.
Malfoy glanced around -- Harry knew he was checking for signs of teachers --
then he looked back at Harry and said in a low voice, "You're dead, Potter."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Funny" he said, "you'd think I'd have stopped
walking around…"
Malfoy looked angrier than Harry had ever seen him; he felt a kind of detached
satisfaction at the sight of his pale, pointed face contorted with rage.
"You're going to pay," said Malfoy in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "I'm
going to make you pay for what you've done to my father…"
"Well, I'm terrified now," said Harry sarcastically. "I s' pose Lord Voldemort's
just a warm-up act compared to you three -- what's the matter?" he added, for
Malfoy Crabbe and Goyle had all looked stricken at the sound of the name. "He's
a mate of your dad, isn't he? Not scared of him, are you?"
"You think you're such a big man, Potter," said Malfoy, advancing now, Crabbe
and Goyle flanking him. "You wait. I'll have you. You can't land my father in
prison --"
"I thought I just had," said Harry.
"The Dementors have left Azkaban," said Malfoy quietly. "Dad and the others'll
be out in no time.…"
"Yeah, I expect they will," said Harry "Still, at least everyone knows what
scumbags they are now --"
Malfoy's hand flew towards his wand, but Harry was too quick for him; he had
drawn his own wand before Malfoy's fingers had even entered the pocket of his
robes.
Snape had emerged
from the staircase leading down to his office, and at the site of him Harry felt
a great rush of hatred beyond anything he felt toward Malfoy.... What ever
Dumbledore said,
he would never forgive
Snape ... never ..."
"Have you…" he began. "I mean, who … has anyone you known ever died?"
"Yes," said Luna simply, "my mother. She was a quite extraordinary witch, you
know, but she did like to experiment and one of her spells went rather badly
wrong one day. I was nine."
"I’m sorry," Harry mumbled.
"Yes, it was rather horrible," said Luna conversationally. "I still feel very
sad about it sometimes. But I’ve still got Dad. And anyway, it’s not as though
I’ll never see Mum again, is it?"
"Er – isn’t it?" said Harry uncertainly.
She shook her head in disbelief. "Oh, come on. You heard them, just behind the
veil, didn’t you?"
"You mean…"
"In that room in the archway. They were just lurking out of sight, that’s all,
you heard them."
About Luna: She walked away from him and, as he watched her go, he
found that the terrible weight in his stomach seemed to have lessened slightly.
