"Gingerly Harry took another step forward. Something shifted in the shadows at the end of the hall, and before any of them could say another word, a figure had risen up out of the carpet, tall, dust-colored, and terrible; Hermione screamed and so did Mrs. Black, her curtains flying open; the gray figure was gliding toward them, faster and faster, its waist-length hair and beard streaming behind it, its face sunken, fleshless, with empty eye sockets: Horribly familiar, dreadfully altered, it raised a wasted arm, pointing at Harry."
It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well.
…he somehow thought that Hermione had gotten the point much better than Ron had.
When people see me, I’m on the red carpet, perfectly dressed and styled, after two hours of hair and makeup. I’m putting on a show. So when I explain that I have moments when I feel dark or insecure, I understand how it might not really ring true, because there’s this weird double-life thing I have going on.