Harry Potter Books Quotes Novels & Stories

"Please?" "Wrong." I turned my head away again. "Abracadabra?" I shook my head. "Ugh! Clue?" "Harry Potter." "Avada Kedavra?" I scowled at him. "Kill me, why don't you?" He pressed his fingers to his forehead. "That's the only one I know." "VulneraSanentur." I finally answered. "Because you wound me." Colton sent a flat look. "Get out."

She was slowly becoming agitated as Harry kept on staring at her and waiting for a reply. "That was a long time ago, Harry, how would you expect me to remember?" Harry raised an eyebrow, staring at her suspiciously. If there was one thing he was certain about, his little girl would never ever forget her favorite book. She talked about it a lot and it seems she read the book more than fifty times. Harry remembewred the fact that she used to explain the book to him, hook line and synced. "Well, it's Throne of glass..." He replied , still looking her up suspiciously.

The more you care, the more you have to loose. ~Harry Potter, Order of Phoenix •• Noor wasn't sure if she wanted to be annoyed, angry, happy or disappointed. The flirty playful guy she had met twice on accident was actually the Mr. Umar Lukuwa she was supposed to meet.

The hug was short and brief but it gave Akira the strength she needed to push just a little bit further. They walked around till Orion paused at the fantasy section of the library, the children's section to be precise. “Eureka!” He exclaimed. Akira chuckled at his childlike expression, “what are we doing here?” “Does this look familiar?” He asked. She looked closely at the book and smiled, “Harry Potter?” She asked in surprise. “Yes my darling, I believe that there's a creature in this book that might have a hand in Mirabel's petrification.” Akira scoffed, “I doubt the basilisk would want to have anything to do with her.”

“Is it from Harry Potter?” A split-second look that’s half-impatient and half-disgusted passes over Ms. Perfect’s face. They’ve been going back and forth over her Double Vision Board for more than a month now. “What? Noooo. It’s a quote Sigmund Freud used in the beginning of his book The Interpretation of Dreams. It translates to: 'If I cannot deflect the will of heaven, then I shall move hell.'”

"How about a decent movie this time?" "Harry Potter?" I ask. His whole face lights up. "I can kiss you right now." He chooses Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which happens to be both our favorites, and we lean back and watch. I'm really absorbed in the beginning—how could someone ever get bored during a Harry Potter movie?—but then my eyes start to droop. I guess the past day and a half have been a little too exciting for me. Before I know it. I'm out cold.

the book opened again to that exact page, and I screamed a little. “I’m going to prove it to you,” I said to the book like I was talking to an actual person. I read one of the spells, stretched my hands towards the shelves.” Phasmatos Motus Liber! Bring me the book I want. Phasmatos Motus Liber! Bring me the book I want.” I said it again, but nothing happened. “See, I told….” I was cut off with a book flying towards me and landing in my hands.

If only there was a way to extract her thoughts, like the pensieve in the Harry Potter books she had read nearly a thousand times. How wonderful would it be to forget the day it all happened? The day she was changed forever. *

It was the second time I burned myself with my cup of tea. I had recently bought it when I discovered an internet store about literary articles, and I instantly fell in love with the Harry Potter-themed cup that only required the coat of arms belonging to the book when it was filled to the top by a smoking liquid. Most of the time, I just filled it with water just to have the pleasure of seeing the dark color giving way to the brightness that contained the drawing of the most famous magnificent witchcraft school in the literary world.

"Mind if I sit down?" "No, not at all." Travis walked around and sit on the bench opposite me. He took up the book that I rested on the table earlier and read the title out loud. "'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows'." He looked up at me. "So, you like Harry Potter?" "Who doesn't?" I say with mock horror, crossing my arms in the process. He held up his palm in defence. "You're not getting any argument from me here." "Good," I said in the same playful, defensive tone.