Here is a list of over 100 excerpts from books 1-5 that we thought were amusing, helpful, or illustrated an important theme in the books.
"REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA!" –Howler from Dumbledore
"Stains of dishonor, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth..." –Mrs. Black (Her Portrait)
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business." –Female Voice on the telephone outside the ministry
"I don't believe it! I don't believe it! Oh Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That's everyone in the family!" "What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?" said George indignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung her arms around her youngest son.
"You don't mind if we don’t kiss you, do you, Ron?" said Fred in a falsely anxious voice. "We could curtsy, if you like," said George.
"—but you get these massive puss-filled boils too" said George, "and we haven't worked out how to get rid of them yet". "I can’t see any boils," said Ron, staring at the twins. "No, well, you wouldn't," said Fred darkly, "they're not in a place we generally display to the public—".
"I'm not lying, and I'm not mad!" Harry told her, his voice rising to a shout. "I tell you, I saw it happen!" "I believe you, Potter," said Professor McGonagall curtly. "Put on your dressing-gown—we’re going to see the headmaster."
"Has it not occurred to you, my poor
puffed-up popinjay, that there might be an excellent reason why the headmaster
of Hogwarts is not confiding every tiny detail of his plans to you? Have you
never paused, while feeling hard-done-by, to note that following Dumbledore's
orders has never yet led you into harm? No. No, like all young people, you are
quite sure that you alone feel and think, you alone recognize danger, you alone
are the only one clever enough to realize what the Dark Lord may be
"I’ll look for him later, I expect I’ll
find him upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother's old bloomers or
something…. Of course, he might have crawled into the airing cupboard and
died…. But I mustn't get my hopes up..."
"Clear your mind, Potter," said Snape's cold voice. "Let go of all emotion...." But Harry’s anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let go of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs….
"Me tactless?" said Harry, outraged. "One minute we were getting on fine, next minute she was telling me that Roger Davies asked her out, and how she used to go and snog Cedric in that stupid tea shop — how was I supposed to feel about that?"
Harry ripped off the brown packaging. Out rolled a tightly furled copy of March's edition of The Quibbler. He unrolled it to see his own face grinning sheepishly at him from the front cover. In large red letters across his picture were the words:
SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:
"It's good isn’t it?" said Luna, who had drifted over to the Gryffindor table and now squeezed herself onto the bench between Fred and Ron. "It came out yesterday, I asked Dad to send you a free copy. I expect all these," she waved a hand at the assembled owls still scrabbling around on the table in front of Harry, "are letters from readers."
"That's what I thought," Hermione said eagerly, "Harry, d'you mind if we—?" "Help yourself," said Harry, feeling slightly bemused. Ron and Hermione both started ripping open envelopes. "This one's from a bloke who thinks you're off your rocker," said Ron, glancing down his letter. "Ah well…." "This woman recommends you try a good course of Shock Spells at St. Mungo's," said Hermione, looking disappointed and crumpling up a second. "This one looks okay, though," said Harry slowly, scanning a long letter from a witch in Paisley. "Hey, she believes me!" "This one's in two minds," said Fred, who had joined in the letter-opening with enthusiasm. "Says you don't come across as a mad person, but he really doesn't want to believe You-Know-Who's back so he doesn't know what to think now…. Blimey, what a waste of parchment...."
The teachers were, of course, forbidden from mentioning the interview by Educational Decree Number Twenty-six, but they found ways to express their feelings about it all the same. Professor Sprout awarded Gryffindor twenty points when Harry passed her a watering can; a beaming Professor Flitwick pressed a box of squeaking sugar mice on him at the end of Charms, said
"Incapable though you are of predicting
even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful
performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it
inevitable you would be sacked?"
A streak of silver light flashed across the room. There was a bang like a gunshot, and the floor trembled. A hand grabbed the scruff of Harry’s neck and forced him down on the floor as a second silver flash went off—several of the portraits yelled, Fawkes screeched, and a cloud of dust filled the air. Coughing in the dust, Harry saw a dark figure fall to the ground with a crash in front of him. There was a shriek and a loud thud and somebody cried, "No!" Then the sound of breaking glass, frantically scuffling footsteps, a groan—and silence.
"You don't get it, Hermione, do you?" said Fred, smiling at her. "We don't care about staying anymore. We'd walk out right now if we weren't determined to do our bit for Dumbledore first. So anyway," he checked his watch, "phase one is about to begin. I'd get in the Great Hall for lunch if I were you, that way the teachers will see you can't have had anything to do with it."
Weasley is our King
"Voldemort's got Sirius." "What?" "How d’you—" "Saw it. Just now. When I fell asleep in the exam." "But—but where? How?" said Hermione, whose face was white. "I dunno how," said Harry. "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they’re at the end of row ninety-seven…He's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there…. He's torturing him…. Says he'll end by killing him…."
It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil haning from the arch....
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