“Where is Wood?" said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn't there."Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself.”

“Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy-""Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing."Percy scowled."That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley."Mum!" said Fred as though he'd only just spotted her and seizing her hand too. "How really corking to see you-”

“But as he reached the ground and sprinted towards the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back.There's nothing you can do, Harry -'Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!'- it's too late, Harry.'We can still reach him -' Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go...There's nothing you can do, Harry...nothing...he's gone.”

“The thing about growing up with Fred and George," said Ginny thoughtfully, "is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve.”

“Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was going to be sick-he hit the field on all fours-coughed-and something gold fell into his hand.'I've got the snitch!' he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.'He didn't catch it, he nearly swalloed it,' Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference-Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results-Gryffindor had won by 170 points to 60.”

“They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat. "Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper. "Make Harry get it.""Get the mail, Harry.""Make Dudley get it.""Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley.”

“Yeah', said Fats. 'Fucking and dying. That's it, innit? Fucking and dying. That's life.''Trying to get a fuck and trying not to die.''Or trying to die', said Fats. 'Some people. Risking it.''Yeah, Risking it.'[...]'Ans music', said Andrew quietly, watching the blue smoke hanging beneath the dark rock. 'Yeah', said Fats, in the distance. 'And music.”