This is your copy of Advanced Potion-Making, is it, Potter?”“Yes,” said Harry, still breathing hard.“You’re quite sure of that, are you, Potter?”“Yes,” said Harry, with a touch more defiance.“This is the copy of Advanced Potion-Making that you purchased from Flourish and Blotts?”“Yes,” said Harry firmly.“Then why,” asked Snape, “does it have the name ‘Roonil Wazlib’ written inside the front cover?”Harry’s heart missed a beat. “That’s my nickname,” he said.

That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger,” said Snape coolly. “Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all.

I wish...I wish I were dead...”“And what use would that be to anyone?

After all this time?Always

But I don’t think I’ve ever known such a natural at Potions!” said Slughorn. “Instinctive, you know — like his mother! I’ve only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that, Sybill — why even Severus —”And to Harry’s horror, Slughorn threw out an arm and seemed to scoop Snape out of thin air toward them.

The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by an invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter… or at least, most minds are…

Look . . . at . . . me. . . .

There is no point in apportioning blame. What is done, is done.

Orange, Longbottom.