Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix(J.K.Rowling/Bloomsbury Publishing PLC)

For a split second, Harry considered telling Ron that he wouldn’t tell him a single word, that he could try a taste of being kept in the dark and see how he liked it. But the nasty impulse vanished as they looked each other.(p.86)
He could not lie to himself; if he had known the prefect badge was on its way, he would have expected it to come to him, not Ron. Did this make him as arrogant as Draco Malfoy? Did he think himself superior to everyone else? Did he really believe he was better than Ron?(p.151)
They’ll know we’re right in the end, thought Harry miserably, as Ron got into bed and extinguished the last candle in the dormitory. But he wondered how many more attacks like Seamus’s he would have to endure before that time came.(p.199)
‘Well,’ said Harmione, smiling slightly, ‘she just couldn’t keep her eyes off you, could she?’
Harry had never before appreciated just how beautiful the village of Hogsmeade was.(p.311)
Harry didn’t answer. He was in a state of shock. Half of him wanted to tell Ron and Hermione what had just happened, but the other half wanted to take the secret with him to the grave.(p.404)
‘The Ministory has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if – and only if – the Headmaster is unable to find one,’ said Dumbledore.
‘And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?'(p.526)
For nearly five years the thought of his father had been a source of comfort, of inspiration. Whenever someone had told him he was like James, he had glowed with pride inside. And now… now he felt cold and miserable at the thought of him.(p.576)
‘James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other, it was just one of those things, you can understand that, can’t you? I think James was everything Snape wanted to be – he was popular, he was good at Quidditch – good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts.'(p.590)
Harry turned to look where Neville was staring. Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Harry felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of his body – they were saved.(p.710)
‘What don’t I know?’ asked Dumbledore calmly.
It was too much. Harry turned around, shaking with rage.
‘I don’t want to talk about how I feel, all right?’
‘Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human-‘
‘THEN – I – DON’T – WANT – TO – BE – HUMAN!’ Harry roared, and he seized the delicate silver instrument from the spindle-legged table beside him and flung it across the room.(p.726)
But words were no longer enough, smashing things was no more help; he wanted to run, he wanted to keep running and never look back, he wanted to be somewhere he could not see the clear blue eyes staring at him, that hatefully calm old face.(p.727)