I know you. You're Nearly Headless Nick.

You're meddling in things that ought not to be meddled in. It's dangerous.

Something that, conveniently enough, lies in your pocket.

All I ask is for something in return.

In just a week, he'll be off to Smeltings.

It's about You-Know-What in vault you-know-which.

"Your father left this in my possession before he died.

Brutal, But no one's died in years. Someone will vanishes occasionally.

- You must be the youngest Quidditch player in... - A century, according to McGonagall.

Now, in a few moments, you'll pass through these doors and join your classmates.

How often do you come across a three-headed dog, even if you're in the trade?

I would've expected more rational behavior on your part and am very disappointed in you, Ms. Granger.