Ron: What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?
Hermione: You don't use your eyes, do you? Didn't you see what it was standing on?
Ron: I wasn't looking at its feet! I was a bit preoccupied with its heads... or maybe you didn't notice? There were three!

Hagrid: You all right there, Harry? You seem very quiet.
Harry: He killed my parents, didn't he?
[puts a hand to his scar]
Harry: The one who gave me this?
[Hagrid is silent]
Harry: You know, Hagrid. I know you do.
[Hagrid sighs and pushes his bowl aside]
Hagrid: First - and understand this, Harry, 'cause it's very important - not all wizards are good. Some of them go bad. A while back, there was one that went as bad as you can go...

There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it...

Lord Voldemort

Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!

Ron

Dumbledore: Harry, do you know why it is that Professor Quirrell could not bear to have you touch him?
[Harry shakes his head]
Dumbledore: It was because of your mother. She sacrificed herself for you, and that kind of act leaves a mark.
[Harry reaches up to touch his scar]
Dumbledore: No no, this kind of mark cannot be seen. It lives in your very skin.
Harry: And what is that?
Dumbledore: Love, Harry. Love.

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