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.

Professor Severus Snape: What would three young Gryffindors such as yourselves be doing inside... on a day like this?
[after Harry, Ron, and Hermoine fail to provide an answer]
Professor Severus Snape: You ought to be more careful. People with think you're...
[sees Harry staring at him]
Professor Severus Snape: up... to something.

Honestly, don't you two read?

Hermione

Ron: [looking for information about Nicholas Flamell] We've looked a hundred times.
Hermione: [leaning closer] Not in the restricted section. Happy Christmas.

Lucius Malfoy: Your scar is legend. As of course, is the wizard who gave it to you.
Harry: Voldemort killed my parents, he was nothing more than a murderer.
Lucius Malfoy: Hmm, you must be very brave to mention his name... or very foolish.

Ron: They were starving him, Mum. There were bars on his window.
Mrs. Weasley: You'd best hope I don't put bars on your window, Ronald Weasley.

[to Dobby] Never try to save my life again.

Harry

Not to be rude or anything, but this isn't a great time for me to have a house elf in my bedroom

Harry

Moaning Myrtle: Oh, Harry? If you die down there, you're welcome to share my toilet.
Harry: Uh... thanks, Myrtle.

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