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

by J.K. Rowling

Mmm she really calls him diddy as a loving nickname

It’s time you learned some respect!” “It’s time you earned it,” said Harry.

“. . . I quite understand what you’re saying, Wakanda, but I’m afraid I cannot be party to —”

WAKANDA FOREVER

“What?” he snarled at Hermione. “I’m starving! All I’ve had since I bled half to death is a couple of toadstools!” “You go and fight your way through the dementors, then,” said Harry, stung. “I would, but my arm’s in a sling, in case you hadn’t noticed!” “That’s convenient.” “And what’s that supposed to — ?”

Drama queens

“Death’s got an Invisibility Cloak?” Harry interrupted again. “So he can sneak up on people,” said Ron. “Sometimes he gets bored of running at them, flapping his arms and shrieking . . . sorry, Hermione.”

HERE LIES DOBBY, A FREE ELF.

“So young,” he said finally, “to be fighting so many.”

No one had ever known him to be related to the Gaunts, he had hidden the connection, the killings had never been traced to him: The ring, surely, was safe.

Lmao

The idea of the locket being stolen was absurd. . . .

LMAO

“Severus?” A little smile twisted Snape’s mouth when she said his name.

This makes my heart hurt

“But this is touching, Severus,” said Dumbledore seriously. “Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?” “For him?” shouted Snape. “Expecto Patronum!” From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe: She landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears. “After all this time?” “Always,” said Snape.

It was not, after all, so easy to die. Every second he breathed, the smell of the grass, the cool air on his face, was so precious: To think that people had years and years, time to waste, so much time it dragged, and he was clinging to each second.

Lily’s smile was widest of all. She pushed her long hair back as she drew close to him, and her green eyes, so like his, searched his face hungrily, as though she would never be able to look at him enough. “You’ve been so brave.”

“You are nearly there,” said James. “Very close. We are . . . so proud of you.”

“I didn’t want you to die,” Harry said. These words came without his volition. “Any of you. I’m sorry —” He addressed Lupin more than any of them, beseeching him. “— right after you’d had your son . . . Remus, I’m sorry —” “I am sorry too,” said Lupin. “Sorry I will never know him . . . but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life.”

“You’ll stay with me?” “Until the very end,” said James.

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.

“You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom.” “I’ll join you when hell freezes over,” said Neville.

“NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!”