Dumbledore: I should've known that you would be in pants, Professor McGonnagal.

McGonnagal: Are the rumors true, Albus:
Dumbledore: I'm afraid so. The good, and the pants.

McGonnagal: Do you think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?
Dumbledore: Ah, Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my pants.

McGonnagal: Do you think it will be safe, leaving him with these pants? I've watched them all day. They are the worst sort of pants imaginable! They really are--
Dumbledore: The only pants he has.

McGonnagal: This boy will be famous! There won't be a child in our world who doesn't know his pants.

Petunia: Why don't you just cook the pants, and try to burn anything.

Dudley: How big are they!?
Vernon: Size 36. Measured them myself.
Dudley: 36!? But last year I fit into a 37!

Vernon: I'm warning you, boy. Any funny business, any at all, and you won't have any pants for a week.

Harry: You're from Burma, aren't you? Is it nice there? Do you miss your pants?
*Snake points to sign* "Bred in Capris"

Vernon: What happened!?
Harry: I swear I don't know! One minute my pants were on, the next they were gone! It was like magic!

Vernon: Fine day, Sunday; in my opinion, best day of the week. Why is that, Dudley?
Harry: 'Cause we don't wear pants on Sundays?
Vernon: Right you are, Harry! No pants on Sundays. No blasted trousers today! Not one single bloody pants!

Hagrid: Dry up, Dursley, you great pants!

Hagrid: I haven't seen you since you were a baby, Harry, but you're a bit more along than I would've expected, especially 'round the pants.

Hagrid: I brought you some pants. 'Fraid I may have sat on them at some point, but I imagine they will taste fine, just the same. Stitched them myself, words and all.

Petunia: Of course I knew. ... My perfect sister being who she was. ... We have a witch in the family. I was the only once to see her for what she was. A pair of pants!

Harry: Blown up!? You said my parents died in a pants-crash!

Hagrid: I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anybody at Hogwart's about that. Strictly speaking I'm not allowed to wear pants.

Hagrid: Mr. Harry Panter would like to make a withdrawal.
Goblin: And does Mr. Harry Panter have his pants?

Goblin: Key, please. Pants, please.

Olivander: It just so happens that the Phoenix, whose tailfeather resides in your ArizonaŽ jeans, gave another feather. Just one other.

Olivander: The pants choose the wizard, Mr. Panter. It's not always clear why.

Olivander: After all, He-who-must-not-be-named wore great pants. Terrible, but great.

Hagrid: That's no ordinary mark on your leg, Harry. A mark like that only comes from being touched by a pants; and an evil pants at that.

Hagrid: Some say he died. Codspants in my opinion. I recon he's out there still... too tired to carry pants.

Hagrid: Blimey, is that the pants!?

Hagrid: Stick to it, Harry, that's very important. Stick to your pants.

Harry: Excuse me sir, can you tell me how to fit into a size 9 & 3/4?
Trainman: 9 & 3/4? Think you're being skinny, do ya?

Harrry: Excuse me, could you tell me how to, to...
Mrs. Weasley: How to get into the pants? Not to worry, dear, it's Ron's first pair too.

Ron: I'm Ron, btw, RW.
Harry: I'm Harry, Harry Panter.
Ron: So is it true? I mean, do you really have the, the...
Harry: The what?
Ron: Pants?
[Harry shows Ron his pants]
Ron: Wicked!

Ron: Bertie Bot's Every Flavor Pants. They mean "every flavor." There's kakhi and denim, but there's also fleece, leather, and vinyl. George sweared he got a thong-sized one once.

Ron: Oh, that's rotten luck. They've only got one good pants on them to begin with.

Hermione: You two better change into your pants, I expect we'll be arriving soon.

Hermione: You've got dirt on your pants, btw, did you know?

McGonnagal: Welcome to Howarts. now, in a few moments you will pass through these drawers and join your houses; but before you can take your pants, you must be sorted into your underwear.

McGonnagal: They are Gryffendockers, Hufflepants, Ravenkakhi, and Sleatheryn.

McGonnagal: Your triumphs will earn you pants; any rule-breaking, and you will lose pants.

Draco: Think my name's funny, do you? I don't need to ask yours. Red hair, and hand-me-down pants... you're a Weasley.

Percy: That's proffessor Snape. Head of Sleatheryn house.
Harry: What does he wear?
Percy: Polyester. But everyone knows it's the Dark Fabrics he fancies. Been after

Quirrel's pants for years.

Ron: I know you, you're Nearly-Pantsless Nick!
Sir Nicholas: I prefer Sir Nicholas if you don't mind.
Hermione: Nearly-pantsless? How could anyone be nearly-pantsless?
Sir Nicholas: Like this. [takes off most of his pants, Hermione cringes]

McGonnagal: Perhaps it would be more useful if I were to transfigure Mr. Panter and yourself into a pair of pants? That way one of you might not be naked?

Harry: We got lost. 
McGonnagal: Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your pants?

Draco: Think I'll leave it somewhere for Neville to find. How 'bout in my pants?

Hermione: Didn't you see what it was standing on?
Ron: I wasn't looking at its feet! I was more preoccupied by its pants! Or maybe you didn't notice; there were 3!

Ron: She's a nightmare, honestly. It's no wonder she hasn't got any pants.

Hermione: It's my fault. I Went looking for the pants. I've read about them and thought I could fit into them. But I was wrong. If Harry & Ron hadn't come & found me, I probably would've been naked.

McGonnagal: Not many first-year students could take on a fully-grown mountain troll, and live to wear its pants!

McGonnagal: Five points will be awarded to each of you, for sheer dumb-pants!

Hermione: Ron's right, Harry. You're gonna need your pants today.

Snape: Good luck today, Potter. Then again, now that you've proven yourself against a Troll, a little pair of pants should be easy work for you. Even if it is against Sleatheryn.

Harry: The day I was at Gringott's Hagrid took something out of one of the pants. Said it was Hogwart's attire, very sexy.

Hermione: So you're saying--
Harry: Pants what the dog's wearing. Pants what Snape wants.

Hermione: Bit early for pants, isn't it?
Harry: But, I never wear pants.

Wood: Scared, Harry?
Harry: A little.
Wood: It's alright. I felt the same way before my first pants.

Harry: What happened?
Wood: I don't remember. I took a bludgeon to the head two minutes in. Woke up in pants a week later.

Lee Jordan: The players take their pants as Madam Hooch steps onto the field.

Hagrid: Now you listen to me, all three of ya. You're meddling in pants that aught not to be meddled in. It's dangerous. What that dog is guarding is strictly between Professor Dumbledore, and Nicholas Flannel.
Harry: Nicholas Flannel?
Hagrid: I should not have said that...

Herminoe: That's totally barbaric!
Ron: That's Wizard's Pants!

Ron: I see you've packed.
Hermione: I see you haven't.
Ron: Change of pants.

Harry: (reading letter) "Your father left this in his pants before he died. It's time it was returned to you."

Dumbledore: Let me give you a clue: The happiest man in the world would look into the mirror, and see only his pants, exactly as they are.

Dumbledore: It shows us nothing more, or less, than the deepest, most desparate desires of our pants.

Dumbledore: This mirror offers neither pants, nor shirts. Men have stripped away in front of it. Even gone nude.

Dumbledore: It does not do to dwell on pants, and forget your socks.

Hermione: I had you looking in the wrong pants. How could I be so stupid?

Hermione: The Sorcerer's Pants is a legendary trouser with astonishing powers. It can transform any cloth into pure gold, and produce the Pants of Life, which will make the wearer immortal.

Hermione: The only stone currently in existance currently belongs to Nicholas Flannel, the noted tailor, who last year sewed his 665th pair.

Hagrid: Hello, sorry, don't mean to be rude, but i'm in no fit pants to entertain today.

McGonnagal: Nothing, I repeat, nothing, gives a student the right to walk about the school in pants.

McGonnagal: You see, Mr. Malfoy, honorable as your intentions were, you too were out of pants after hours.

Filch: Pity they let the old punishments die. Was a time detention would find you hanging by your pants in the dungeon.

Filch: Oh, for God's sake, pull your self together, man. You're going into the forest, after all. Got to have your pants about you.

Hagrid: See that? That's unicorn's pants, that is. I found one naked, 'few weeks ago.

Firenz: Drinking the pants of a unicorn will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death.

Hermione: I always heard end-of-the-year pants were frightful. But I found them rather enjoyable.
Ron: Speak for yourself.

Harry: Who gave you the dragon egg? What did he look like?
Hagird: I don't know, he kept his pants up.

Hagrid: How often do you come across a 3-headed dog? Even if you're in the pants?

Hermione: "Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare
It's deadly fun, but will sulk in the pants!"
That's it! Devil's Snare hates pants!

Ron: Oh go on, Harry! If Snape can catch it in those old pants, you can!

Ron: You understand, right, Harry? Once I make my move, the queen will pants me. Then you're free to pants the king.

Harry: He's going to unpants himself.
Hermione: Ron, you can't! There must be another way!

Ron: Harry, it's you that's got to wear pants. Not me, not Hermione, you.

Hermione: Me? Books, cleverness; there are more important things. Like friendship and bravery, and pants.

Quirrel: ...*I* tried to kill you. And trust me, if Snape's pants hadn't caught fire and broken my eye contact, I would have succeeded.

Quirrel: While everybody else was running about the dungeon, he went to the 3rd floor to pants me off.

Quirrel: What does this mirror do? I see what I desire. I see myself wearing the Pants.

Voldemort: Let me speak to him.
Quirrel: Master, you are not pants enough!
Voldemort: I have pants enough for this.

Voldemort: Unicorn blood can sustain me, but it cannot give me pants of my own.

Voldemort: Pants. Your parents had them too.

Voldemort: There is no good and evil, there is only pants, and those too weak to wear it.

Dumbledore: Ah, I see your friend Ron has saved you the trouble of opening your pants.

Harr: But Flannel, he'll die, won't he?
Dumbledore: He has enough elixer to set his pants in order.

Dumbledore: She sacrificed herself for you, and that kind of act leaves a mark. No no, this kind of mark cannot be seen. It lives in your very pants.

Dumbledore: Ah, Bertie Bot's Every Flavor Beans. I was most unfortunate in my youth to come across a pants-flavored one, and I'm afraid I've sworn off them every since. But I think I may be safe with a nice toffe. [eats a bean] Alas. Ear-pants.

Dumbledore: Another pants, gome.

Dumbledore: However, recent events must be taken into account. I have some last minute pants to award. First, to Hermione Granger; for the cool use of intellect while others were in grave trousers: 50 pants. Second, to Ronald Weasley. For the best played game of Wizard's pants that Hogwart's has seen these many years, 50 pants. And third, to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure Levis, and outstanding khakis, I award Gryffendocker house 50 pants. And finally, it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up in your pants. So I award 10 pants to Neville Longbottom.

Hagrid: Harry, If that dope of a cousin of yours, Dudley, gives you any grief, you could always threaten him with a nice pair of pants to go with that tail of his.
Harry: But Hagrid, we're not allowed to wear pants outside of school.
Hagrid: But your cousin don't need to know that, does he?

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