Every single one of its nine hands was now pointing at "mortal peril."
I suppose everybody’s in mortal danger now… I don’t think it can be just our family… but I don’t know anyone else who’s got a clock like this, so I can’t check.
All the hands were once again at "mortal peril."
"Then you just buck up your ideas, young man, before I decide you’re too immature to come with us!" said Mrs. Weasley angrily, snatching up her clock, all nine hands of which were still pointing at "mortal peril," and balancing it on top of a pile of just-laundered towels.
He was already im-mortal, you see … or as close to immortal as any man can be.
Without his Horcruxes, Voldemort will be a mortal man with a maimed and diminished soul.
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.
You have flitted into Lord Voldemort’s mind without damage to yourself, but he cannot possess you with-out enduring mortal agony, as he discovered in the Ministry.