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Well,” said Hermione, folding up the newspaper and throwing it aside, “it’s certainly given them lots to write about.

There were still deep welts on his forearms where the brain’s tentacles had wrapped around him. According to Madam Pomfrey, thoughts could leave deeper scarring than almost anything else, though since she had started applying copious amounts of Dr. Ubbly’s Oblivious Unction, there seemed to be some improvement.

I was trying, in distancing myself from you, to protect you. An old man’s mistake . . .”

“I’VE HAD ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE ANYMORE —”

“On the contrary . . . the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.”
Harry felt the white-hot anger lick his insides, blazing in the terrible emptiness, filling him with the desire to hurt Dumbledore for his calmness and his empty words.

Harry could not speak. Phineas Nigellus did not know that Sirius was dead, but Harry could not tell him. To say it aloud would be to make it final, absolute, irretrievable.

Harry looked through the window. There was a cool line of pale green along the horizon: Dawn was approaching.

His mind was blank,

“You have irked me too often, for too long.

“We are a race apart

Their long dark shadows rippled over the grass behind them like cloaks.

«Гарри, твои страдания доказывают, что ты остаешься человеком! Боль — удел человеческий…»

her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious.

Luna, however, stood limply by the side of her captor, gazing vaguely out of the window as though rather bored by the proceedings.

“Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn’t it?”

His head began to spin as though he had just got off a fairground ride though

“Anyway, the Department of Mysteries has always been completely empty whenever I’ve been —”
“You’ve never been there, Harry,” said Hermione quietly. “You’ve dreamed about the place, that’s all.”
“They’re not normal dreams!” Harry shouted in her face,

the image of Hagrid sprinting away into the dark was haunting him.
<…>
He fell asleep contemplating hideous revenges and arose from bed three hours later feeling distinctly unrested.

It was nearly four in the morning before the common room cleared.

“Well, I’m off to bed . . . ’Night, all . . .”