Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter, #5)

by J.K. Rowling

He could not even summon the energy to get up and turn on his bedroom light. The room grew steadily darker around him as he lay

“But Dumbledore says he doesn’t care what they do as long as they don’t take him off the Chocolate Frog cards,” said Bill, grinning.

His gloom seeped through the house, oozing under doorways like some noxious gas, so that all of them became infected by it.

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 any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter . . . or at least, most minds are . . .”

“Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily — weak people, in other words — they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!”

“You should write a book,” Ron told Hermione as he cut up his potatoes, “translating mad things girls do so boys can understand them.”

“That is just as well, Potter,” said Snape coldly, “because you are neither special nor important,