“You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”He held out his hand to shake Harry’s, but Harry didn’t take it. “I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,” he said coolly.”

“Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?""Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of were thickset and looked like bodyguards."Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelssly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”

“I don't think he can hurt. Wizards and witches go hand in hand, after all. Didn't you read Harry Potter?" Eden stared at him. "Well, yeah." "I didn't read the books," he continued. "But I did get to see the movies. A previous host was a fan. He even wore dress robes and pretended he'd been sorted into a house. Hufflepuff, if you can believe it. Who liked Hufflepuff best? I mean, seriously.”

“Sometimes I think he’s the kind of friend that grownups call a ‘fair-weather friend.’ That means when everything’s going smoothly, he’s the best friend a guy could want. But as soon as something goes wrong…(he) sort of turns on you.”

“Here is the hardest hit of all, O'Malley," Harry said. "Here is the very worst thing I can do to you."He held out his hand, as if asking for a handshake. He was asking for a handshake.Conor responded almost automatically, putting out his own hand and shaking Harry's before he even thought about what he was doing. They shook hands like two businessmen at the end of a meeting."Goodbye, O'Malley," Harry said, looking into Conor's eyes. "I no longer see you.”

“You are the Chosen One?”“Of course I am,” said Harry calmly.“But then . . . my dear boy . . . you’re asking a great deal . . .you’re asking me, in fact, to aid you in your attempt to destroy —”“You don’t want to get rid of the wizard who killed Lily Evans?”“Harry, Harry, of course I do, but —”“You’re scared he’ll find out you helped me?”Slughorn said nothing; he looked terrified.“Be brave like my mother, Professor. . . .”