I hate being poor.

I like a quiet life, you know me.

Hay que tener un gran valor para enfrentarse a nuestros enemigos, pero se necesita aún más valor para enfrentarse a nuestros amigos.

The words came out before Harry had quite got his tongue around them.“Wangoballwime?”“Sorry?” said Cho.“D’you — d’you want to go to the ball with me?” said Harry. Why did he have to go red now? Why?“Oh!” said Cho, and she went red too. “Oh Harry, I’m really sorry,” and she truly looked it. “I’ve already said I’ll go with someone else.

They stuff people’s heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall,” he told Harry. “Want to come upstairs and practice?”“No, thanks,” said Harry. “The poor toilet’s never had anything as horrible as your head down it — it might be sick.” Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said.

Play Quidditch at all?”“No,” Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.“I do — Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you’ll be in yet?”“No,” said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?

That wand’s more trouble than it’s worth,” said Harry. “And quite honestly,” he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, “I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.

Ron's eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair.

There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you—