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Если бы вещи вокруг отражали его внутреннее состояние, все картины кричали бы от боли.

…рано или поздно они все равно увидят, что мы правы. Но сколько до той поры придется вытерпеть атак, подобных сегодняшней?

It felt very odd to be issuing instructions, but not nearly as odd as seeing them followed.

“Oh please,” said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes and folding his arms.<…>“But if you think it’s beneath you, you can leave,” Harry said.

“Yeah, the D.A.’s good,” said Ginny. “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army because that’s the Ministry’s worst fear, isn’t it?”
<…>“All in favor of the D.A.?” said Hermione bossily, kneeling up on her cushion to count. “That’s a majority — motion passed!”

“And just look at these books!” said Hermione excitedly, running a finger along the spines of the large leather-bound tomes. “A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions . . . The Dark Arts Outsmarted . . . Self-Defensive Spellwork . . . wow . . .” She looked around at Harry, her face glowing, and he saw that the presence of hundreds of books had finally convinced Hermione that what they were doing was right.

At half-past seven Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the Gryffindor common room, Harry clutching a certain piece of aged parchment in his hand.
<…>
“Hold it,” said Harry warningly, unfolding the piece of parchment at the top of the last staircase, tapping it with his wand, and muttering, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

not for the first time, a voice very much like Hermione’s whispered in his ear: reckless. It was, after all, very late, and he was exhausted.
“Not tonight, Dobby,” said Harry reluctantly, sinking back into his chair. “This is really important. . . . I don’t want to blow it, it’ll need proper planning. . . .

“Dobby wishes he could help Harry Potter, for Harry Potter set Dobby free and Dobby is much, much happier now . . .”
Harry smiled.
“You can’t help me, Dobby, but thanks for the offer . . .”

“how is Winky?” asked Harry.
Dobby’s ears drooped slightly.
“Winky is still drinking lots, sir,” he said sadly, his enormous round green eyes, large as tennis balls, downcast. “She still does not care for clothes, Harry Potter. Nor do the other house-elves. None of them will clean Gryffindor Tower anymore, not with the hats and socks hidden everywhere, they finds them insulting, sir. Dobby does it all himself, sir,

and tonight, sir, he has got his wish!”

“Umbridge is watching the owls and the fires, remember?”

There was a pause. The wind and rain lashed at the building.

“I’m not making prophecies,” said Harry.
“No, <…>” Ron said, sounding both scared and impressed. “Harry, you’re reading You-Know-Who’s mind. . . .”

“You don’t think he has become . . . sort of . . . reckless . . . since he’s been cooped up in Grimmauld Place? You don’t think he’s . . . kind of . . . living through us?”

“I’ve got permission!” she said. “To re-form the Quidditch team!”
<…>
So I want you down at the pitch at seven o’clock tonight, all right, because we’ve got to make up time, you realize we’re only three weeks away from our first match?”

Charms was always one of the best lessons in which to enjoy a private chat: There was generally so much movement and activity that the danger of being overheard was very slight. Today, with the room full of croaking bullfrogs and cawing ravens, and with a heavy downpour of rain clattering and pounding against the classroom windows, Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s whispered discussion about how Umbridge had nearly caught Sirius went quite unnoticed.

“Watch your frog, it’s escaping.”

But there are twenty-eight of us and none of us is an Animagus, so we wouldn’t need so much an Invisibility Cloak as an Invisibility Marquee

Where are you meeting?”
“Well, <…>” said Harry. “Dunno where we’re going to be able to go . . .”
“How about the Shrieking Shack?” suggested Sirius.