Albus Dumbledore: Today, we acknowledge... a really terrible loss. Cedric Diggory was, as you all know... exceptionally hard-working... infinitely fair-minded... and, most importantly... a fierce, fierce friend. Now, I think, therefore, you have the right to know exactly how he died. You see... Cedric Diggory was murdered... by Lord Voldemort! The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this. But not to do so, I think, would be an insult to his memory. Now, the pain... we all feel at this dreadful loss reminds me... and reminds us... that while we may come from different places and speak in different tongues... our hearts beat as one. In light of recent events... the bonds of friendship we've made this year will be more important than ever. Remember that, and Cedric Diggory will not have died in vain. You remember that... and we'll celebrate a boy who was... kind and honest... and brave and true, right to the very end.
Harry Potter: The cup was a Portkey. Someone had bewitched it.
Alastor Moody: What was it like? What was he like?
Harry Potter: Who?
Alastor Moody: The Dark Lord. Aah! What was it like to stand in his presence?
Harry Potter: I don't know. It was like I'd fallen into one of my dreams... into one of my nightmares.
Alastor Moody: Were there others? In the graveyard, were there others?
Harry Potter: Um... I... I don't think I said anything about a graveyard, professor.
Lord Voldemort: The boy who lived. How lies have fed your legend, Harry. Shall I reveal what really happened that night 13 years ago? Shall I divulge how I truly lost my powers? Yes, shall I? It was love. You see, when dear, sweet Lily Potter gave her life for her only son... she provided the ultimate protection. I could not touch him. It was old magic. Something I should have foreseen. But no matter, no matter. Things have changed. I can touch you... now. Yeah. Astonishing what a few drops of your blood will do, eh, Harry?
Igor Karkaroff: I know for a fact... this person took part in the capture... and, by means of the Cruciatus Curse... torture of the Auror Frank Longbottom and his wife!
Barty Crouch, Sr.: The name. Give me the wretched name!
Igor Karkaroff: Barty Crouch... Junior.
Barty Crouch, Jr.: Get your filthy hands off me, you pathetic little men! Hello, Father.
Barty Crouch, Sr.: You are no son of mine.
Harry Potter: I suppose Viktor's already figured it out.
Hermione Granger: Wouldn't know. We don't actually talk about the tournament. Actually, we don't really talk at all. Viktor's more of a physical being. (laughs) I just mean he's not particularly loquacious.
Harry Potter: Mm-hm.
Hermione Granger: Mostly, he watches me study. It's a bit annoying, actually.
Hermione Granger: You know the solution then, don't you?
Ron Weasley: Go on.
Hermione Granger: Next time there's a ball... pluck up the courage and ask me before somebody else does! And not as a last resort.
Ron Weasley: Well, that's... I mean, that's just completely off the point. Harry.
Hermione Granger (to Harry): Where have you been? Never mind! Off to bed, both of you.
Ron Weasley (to Harry): They get scary when they get older.
Hermione Granger: Ron, you spoiled everything!