“I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way...”“Yes, they do that,” said Dumbledore.”

“Someone's dead," said Malfoy, and his voice seemed to go up an octave as he said it. "One of your people...I don't know who, it was dark...I stepped over the body...I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way.”

“The realization of what would happen next settled gradually over Harry in the long minutes, like softly falling snow."I've got to go back, haven't I?""That is up to you.""I've got a choice?""Oh yes." Dumbledore smiled at him. "We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to…let's say…board a train.""And where would it take me?""On," said Dumbledore simply.”

“Yes, alive,” said Fudge. “That is — I don’t know — is a man alive if he can’t be killed? I don’t really understand it, and Dumbledore won’t explain properly — but anyway, he’s certainly got a body and is walking and talking and killing, so I suppose, for the purposes of our discussion, yes, he’s alive.”

“We shall trespass upon your aunt and uncle's hospitality only a little longer.'You will, will you?'Yes,' said Dumbledore simply, 'I shall.”

“You know, Minister, I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts...but you cannot deny he's got style...”

“So,” sneered Fudge, recovering himself, “you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?”“Merlin’s beard, no,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to.”“He will not be single-handed!” said Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes.“Oh yes he will, Minerva!” said Dumbledore sharply. “Hogwarts needs you!”