Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

“Oh if there’s one thing I hate,” he muttered, more to himself than to Harry, and his magical eye was fixed on the left-hand corner of the map, “it’s a Death Eater who walked free. . . .”

“Pajama party, is it?” he growled up the stairs.

Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.”

We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss,
An hour long you’ll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour — the prospect’s black,

and as an added precaution, Harry thought he would take the Marauder’s Map, which, next to the Cloak, was the most useful aid to rule-breaking Harry owned.

“Yeh know wha’, Harry?” he said, looking up from the photograph of his father, his eyes very bright, “when I firs’ met you, you reminded me o’ me a bit. Mum an’ Dad gone, an’ you was feelin’ like yeh wouldn’ fit in at Hogwarts, remember? Not sure yeh were really up to it . . . an’ now look at yeh, Harry! School champion!”

“An excellent point,” said Professor Dumbledore. “My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I’m not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery. . . .”

said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.

“I have gone temporarily deaf and haven’t any idea what you said, Harry,”

But honestly, all this hysteria about giants. They can’t all be horrible. . . . It’s the same sort of prejudice that people have toward werewolves. . . . It’s just bigotry, isn’t it?”