Rowena

“But...surely you know where your nephew is going?' she asked, looking bewildered.
'Certainly we know,' said Vernon Dursley. 'He's off with some of your lot, isn't he?
Right, Dudley, let's get in the car, you heard the man, we're in a hurry.'
Again, Vernon Dursley marched as far as the front door, but Dudley did not follow.
'Off with some of our lot?'
Hestia looked outraged. Harry had met the attitude before: witches and wizards seemed stunned that his closest living family took so little interest in the famous Harry Potter.
'It's fine,' Harry assured her. 'It doesn't matter, honestly.'
'Doesn't matter?' repeated Hestia, her voice rising ominously.
'Don't these people realise what you've been through? What danger you are in? The unique position you hold in the hearts of the anti-Voldemort movement?
'Er - no, they don't,' said Harry. 'They think I'm a waste of space, actually, but I'm used to -'
'I don't think you're a waste of space.'
If Harry had not seen Dudley's lips move, he might not have believed it.”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

“Hermione had taken his hand again and was gripping it tightly. He could not look at her, but returned the pressure, now taking deep, sharp gulps of the night air, trying to steady himself, trying to regain control. He should have brought something to give them, and he had not thought of it, and every plant in the graveyard was leafless and frozen. But Hermione raised her wand, moved it in a circle through the air, and a wreath of Christmas roses blossomed before them. Harry caught it and laid it on his parent's grave.
As soon as he stood up he wanted to leave: He did not think he could stand another moment there. He put his arm around Hermione's shoulders, and she put hers around his waist, and they turned in silence and walked away through the snow, past Dumbledore's mother and sister, back toward the dark church and the out-of-sight kissing gate.”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

“He was about to go home, about to return to the place where he had had a family. It was in Godric’s Hollow that, but for Voldemort, he would have grown up and spent every school holiday. He could have invited friends to his house. . . . He might even have had brothers and sisters. . . . It would have been his mother who had made his seventeenth birthday cake. The life he had lost had hardly ever seemed so real to him as at this moment, when he knew he was about to see the place where it had been taken from him.”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

“Loving she realises is a verb. It is an act. It is not enough to say you love someone, and then forget about them, or trust a relationship will stay strong simply because you share a house or children or a life.
Loving requires acts of love. It requires thinking of your spouse, doing things for them to make them happy. It requires acting in loving ways, even when you are tired, or bogged down with work, or so stressed you are waking up every night with a jaw sore from grinding your teeth.
They forgot to do that, she now knows. They forgot to love each other. They expected love to continue, without putting any work into it, and today she knows this is why her marriage failed.”
― Jane Green, Dune Road