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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
J.K. Rowling
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February 25 - March 7, 2025
“Dad,” said Dudley in a loud voice, “Dad — I’m going with these Order people.” “Dudley,” said Harry, “for the first time in your life, you’re talking sense.”
“Er — no, they don’t,” said Harry. “They think I’m a waste of space, actually, but I’m used to —” “I don’t think you’re a waste of space.” If Harry had not seen Dudley’s lips move, he might not have believed it.
Dudley gently released himself from his mother’s clutches and walked toward Harry, who had to repress an urge to threaten him with magic. Then Dudley held out his large, pink hand.
“Dunno,” muttered Dudley. “See you, Harry.” “Yeah . . .” said Harry, taking Dudley’s hand and shaking it. “Maybe. Take care, Big D.”
He forced himself to look directly into her eyes, noticing as he did so that they were precisely the same shade of brown as Ginny’s.
Wendell and Monica Wilkins don’t know that they’ve got a daughter, you see.”
He wanted to tell them what that meant to him, but he simply could not find words important enough.
“It’s traditional to give a wizard a watch when he comes of age,” said Mrs. Weasley, watching him anxiously from beside the cooker.
The rest of her speech was lost; Harry had got up and hugged her.
“Thought wrong, then, didn’t he?” said Ron. “I always said he was mental. Brilliant and everything, but cracked. Leaving Harry an old Snitch — what the hell was that about?”
They seemed so long ago; they had always seemed too good to be true, as though he had been stealing shining hours from a normal person’s life, a person without a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. . . .
Beside him was Sirius, carelessly handsome, his slightly arrogant face so much younger and happier than Harry had ever seen it alive.
“You’re on the list of Muggle-borns who didn’t present themselves for interrogation!”
“Well, if all three of us go we’ll have to Disapparate separately,” Ron was saying. “We can’t all fit under the Cloak anymore.”
Strong likelihood Undesirable No. 1 will contact (has stayed with Weasley family previously)
“Just — just show You-Know-Who some respect, will you?”
???? Ron is so freak sometimes
Ron and Hermione, now talking softly behind him in the tent, could walk away if they wanted to: He could not.
“So where next?” was his constant refrain. He did not seem to have any ideas himself, but expected Harry and Hermione to come up with plans while he sat and brooded over the low food supplies. Accordingly
Book ron aint it
Harry felt a corrosive hatred toward Ron: Something had broken between them.
Being fed, and having a soft bed, and other people being in charge, seemed the most wonderful prospect in the world at that moment. But then he remembered that he was Undesirable Number One, that there was a ten-thousand-Galleon price on his head, and that to walk into Hogwarts these days was just as dangerous as walking into the Ministry of Magic.
“Harry, I think it’s Christmas Eve!” said Hermione. “Is it?”
looking down at the thick snow hiding from his eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.
the tall black-haired man in his glasses, making puffs of colored smoke erupt from his wand for the amusement of the small black-haired boy in his blue pajamas.
“He loved you,” Hermione whispered. “I know he loved you.”
“She’s like my sister,” he went on. “I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It’s always been like that. I thought you knew.”
Hermione looked exasperated: The expression was so endearingly familiar that Harry and Ron grinned at each other.
“You’re a genius,” Ron repeated, looking awed. “Yeah, you are, Hermione,” agreed Harry fervently. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
Harry swallowed. “Good-bye, Dobby,” he
“You probably don’t remember —” Harry began. “— that I was the goblin who showed you to your vault, the first time you ever visited Gringotts?” said Griphook. “I remember, Harry Potter. Even amongst goblins, you are very famous.”
“So young,” he said finally, “to be fighting so many.”
Harry looked up at it, and all of a sudden a knife-sharp memory came to him: standing on this very spot on the day that he had turned eleven, the most wonderful birthday of his life,
All three of them started to laugh, and once started, it was difficult to stop. Harry’s ribs ached, he felt lightheaded with hunger, but he lay back on the grass beneath the reddening sky and laughed until his throat was raw.
It was of Ron and Hermione that he thought as he whispered, “Expecto Patronum!”
“No, it isn’t,” said Harry. “Your brother knew how to finish You-Know-Who and he passed the knowledge on to me. I’m going to keep going until I succeed — or I die. Don’t think I don’t know how this might end. I’ve known it for years.”
The thing is, it helps when people stand up to them, it gives everyone hope. I used to notice that when you did it, Harry.”
The aged caretaker had just come hobbling into view, shouting, “Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!” “They’re supposed to be, you blithering idiot!” shouted McGonagall.
and Fred’s eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.
“After all this time?” “Always,” said Snape.
he could not see any of the people he loved, no hint of Hermione, Ron, Ginny, or any of the other Weasleys, no Luna. He felt he would have given all the time remaining to him for just one last look at them; but then, would he ever have the strength to stop looking? It was better like this.
To think that people had years and years, time to waste, so much time it dragged, and he was clinging to each second.
“You’ve been so brave.” He could not speak. His eyes feasted on her, and he thought that he would like to stand and look at her forever, and that would be enough.
Im crying so hard
“Harry Potter,” he said very softly. His voice might have been part of the spitting fire. “The Boy Who Lived.”
“Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love.
Voldemort raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley. “Protego!” roared Harry, and the Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall, and Voldemort stared around for the source as Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak at last.
You don’t learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?” “You dare —” “Yes, I dare,” said Harry. “I know things you don’t know, Tom Riddle.
“Snape’s Patronus was a doe,” said Harry, “the same as my mother’s, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children.
Everywhere he looked he saw families reunited, and finally, he saw the two whose company he craved most.
The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.
