"Seventeen, eh!"said Hagrid as he accepted a bucket-sized glass of wine from Fred."Six years to the day we met, Harry, d’yeh remember it?""Vaguely,"said Harry, grinning up at him. "Didn’t you smash down the front door, give Dudley a pig’s tail, and tell me I was a wizard?""I forge’ the details,"Hagrid chortled."
"Whatever happens to your body, your soul will survive, untouched..."
"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..."
"She picked up the book and then walked back past him into the tent, but as she did so, she brushed the top of his head lightly with her hand. He closed his eyes at her touch, and hated himself for wishing that what she said was true: that Dumbledore had really cared."
"And Death spoke to them —’”“Sorry,” interjected Harry, “but Death spoke to them?”“It’s a fairy tale, Harry!”“Right, sorry. Go on."
"Harry, you wonderful boy, you brave, brave man."