"Go on, have a pasty," said Harry, who had never had anything to share before, or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating their way through all of Harry’s pasties and cakes.
"The odd thing is, Harry," he said softly, "that it may not have meant you at all. Sybil’s prophecy could have applied to two wizard boys, born at the end of July that year, both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, both sets of parents having narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of course was you. The other was Neville Longbottom."