Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Harry Potter, #7)

by J.K. Rowling

HERE LIES DOBBY, A FREE ELF.

“My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?”

“Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort’s soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsing building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort’s mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.”

“So the boy . . . the boy must die?” asked Snape quite calmly. “And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.”

Beside him, making scarcely a sound, walked James, Sirius, Lupin, and Lily, and their presence was his courage, and the reason he was able to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

You are the worthy possessor of the Hallows.”

You are the true master of death, because the true master does not seek to run away from Death. He accepts that he must die, and understands that there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying.”

“Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love.

“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”

“NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!”

Don’t you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people —” “But you did not!” “— I meant to, and that’s what did it. I’ve done what my mother did. They’re protected from you. Haven’t you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can’t torture them. You can’t touch them. You don’t learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?”

“Don’t forget to give Neville our love!” Ginny told James as she hugged him. “Mum! I can’t give a professor love!” “But you know Neville —” James rolled his eyes. “Outside, yeah, but at school he’s Professor Longbottom, isn’t he? I can’t walk into Herbology and give him love. . . .”