“The idea of Dumbledore's corpse frightened Harry much less than the possibility that he might have misunderstood the living Dumbledore's intentions.”

“It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, it had been a quite personal question.”

“Why can’t I drink the potion instead?” asked Harry desperately.“Because I am much older, much cleverer, and much less valuable,” said Dumbledore.”

“Killed?" said Hagrid loudly, staring down at Harry. "Snape killed? What're yeh on abou', Harry?""Dumbledore," said Harry. "Snape killed... Dumbledore.”

“At that moment, Harry fully understood for the first time why people said Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. The look upon Dumbledore's face as he stared down at the unconscious form of Mad-Eye moody was more terrible than Harry could have ever imagined. There was no benign smile upon Dumbledore's face, no twinkle in the eyes behind the spectacles. There was cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Dumbledore as though he were giving off burning heat.”

“Of course we still want to know you!" Harry said, staring at Hagrid."You don't think anything that Skeeter cow - sorry, Professor," he added quickly, looking at Dumbledore."I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said, Harry," said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.”

“Odd words floated back to them over the hundreds of heads. "Nobility of spirit"..."intellectual contribution"..."greatness of heart"...It did not mean very much. It had little to do with Dumbledore as Harry had known him. He suddenly remembered Dumbledore's idea of a few words, "nitwit," "oddment," "blubber," and "tweak," and again had to suppress a grin...”