Funny Excerpts

"Oh, are you a prefect Percy? You should have said something, we had no idea."
"Hang on I think I remember him saying something about it, once..."
"Or twice-"
"A minute-"
"All summer-"

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"So light a fire!" Harry choked.
"Yes...of course...but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands.
"HAVE YOU GONE MAD!" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT!

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Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march.

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Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small watery blue eyes, and thick blonde hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel. Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.

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Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.
"So-after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"
"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.
"I mean, after that open and revolting foul-"
"Jordan, I'm warning you-"
"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure..."

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"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," [Dudley] told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"
"No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it — it might be sick." Then he ran before Dudley could work out what he'd said.

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"You haven't got a letter on yours", George observed. "I suppose she [Mrs.Weasley] thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Gred and Forge."

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"Sir — Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"
"Obviously, you’ve just done so,” Dumbledore smiled. “You may ask me one more thing, however."
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"
"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."
Harry stared.
"One can never have enough socks. Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn’t get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

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"Fred, you next," the plump woman said.
"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

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Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Harry down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through..."

Harry learned quickly not to feel to sorry for the gnomes. He decided to just drop the first one just over the hedge, but the gnome, sensing weakness, sank his razor sharp teeth into Harry's finger and he had a hard job shaking it off until - "Wow, Harry - that must have been fifty feet!"

"You're alive," she said blankly to Harry.
"There's no need to sound so disappointed," he said grimly, wiping flecks of blood and slime off his glasses.
"Oh, well...I'd just been thinking...if you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," said Myrtle, blushing silver.

"'A Study of Hogwarts' Prefects and Their Later Careers,'" Ron read aloud off the back cover. "That sounds fascinating."

Hermione, however, clapped a hand to her forehead. "Harry -- I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!" And she sprinted away, up the stairs.
"What does she understand?" said Harry distractedly, still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.
"Loads more than I do." said Ron, shaking his head.
"But why's she got to go to the library?"
"Because that's what Hermione does," said Ron, shrugging. "When in doubt, go to the library."

Warlock D. J. Prod of Didsbury says: "My wife used to sneer at my feeble charms, but one month into your fabulous Kwikspell course an I succeeded in turning her into a yak! Thank you, Kwikspell!"

George looked up in time to see Malfoy pretending to faint with terror again.
"That little git," he said calmly. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the dementors were down our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?"
"Nearly wet himself," said Fred, with a contemptuous glance at Malfoy.

Percy had what were possibly the least helpful words of comfort.
"They make a fuss about Hogsmeade, but I assure you, Harry, it's not all it's cracked up to be," he said seriously. "All right, the sweetshop's rather good, and Zonko's Joke Shop's frankly dangerous, and yes, the Shrieking Shack is always worth a visit, but really, Harry, apart from that, you're not missing anything."

"Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business."
"Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git."
"Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor."

Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.
"I let you sleep in my bed!" he said.

"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" said a cold, drawling voice.
Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him.
"Yeah, reckon so," said Harry casually.
"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute-in case you get too near a Dementor."
Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.
"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," said Harry. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you."

"Well...when we were in our first year, Harry-young, carefree, and innocent-"
Harry snorted. He doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent.

(Harry, just being greeted by Percy) "Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy-"
"Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing." Percy scowled.
"That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley.
"Mum!" said Fred as though he'd only just spotted her and seized her hand too. "How really corking to see you-"

Trelawney: "Would anyone like me to help interpret the shadowy realms within their orb?"
Ron: "I don't need help, it's obvious what this means: there's going to be loads of fog tonight."

Trelawney: "The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."
Hermione: "Well honestly...'the fates have informed her'...who sets date of the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!"

"How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" asked Fred as they dug into a sumptuous pudding.
"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr. Weasley.
Everyone looked up at him.
"Why?" said Percy curiously.
"It's because of you, Perce," said George seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them-"
"-for Humongous Bighead," said Fred.

"Mr. Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what is might have been, Potter?"
"No," said Harry, now trying to sound innocently curious.
"It was your head, Potter. Floating in midair."
There was a long silence.
"Maybe he'd better go to Madam Pomfrey," said Harry. "If he's seeing things like-"
"What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Potter?" said Snape softly. "Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade."

"Where is Wood?" said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn't there.
"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

"What are you taking Muggle Studies for?" Said Ron, rolling his eyes at Harry. "You're Muggle-born! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!"
"But it'll be fascinating to study them from the Wizarding point of view," said Hermione earnestly.
"Are you planning to eat or sleep this year, Hermione?" asked Harry while Ron sniggered.

"You bought that monster?" said Ron, his mouth hanging open.
"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" said Hermione, glowing.

"I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth...your dark hair...your mean stature...tragic losses so young in life...I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?"
"No," said Harry, "I was born in July."
Ron hastily turned his laugh into a hacking cough.

"I told you!" Ron hissed at Hermione as she stared down the article. "I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of - scarlet woman!"
Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. "Scarlet woman?" she repeated, shaking with surprised giggles as she looked around at Ron.
"It's what my mum calls them," Ron muttered, his ears going red.

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred.
"That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!" said Percy, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!"
"It was," Fred whispered to Harry as they got up from the table. "We sent it."

Dudley had done the thing he was threatening to do since age three: He had become wider than he was tall.

One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers and almost crying with exasperation.
"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious-"
"I bought this in a Muggle shop," said the old wizard stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."
"Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.
"I'm not putting them on," said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

"Mad-Eye Moody?" said George thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. "Isn't he that nutter-"
"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," said Mrs. Weasley sternly.
"Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?" said Fred quietly as Mrs. Weasley left the room. "Birds of a feather..."

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"
Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret.
"I want to fix that in my memory forever," said Ron, his closed and an uplifted expression on his face. "Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret..."

"Don't be prat, Neville, that's illegal," said George. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing... maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry."

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as they all made their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.
"Don't worry, Dad," said Fred gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated."
Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.

"Enjoying it?" said Ron darkly. "I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr. Crouch...as I was saying to Mr Crouch...Mr. Crouch is of the opinion...Mr. Crouch was telling me...They'll be announcing their engagement any day now."

Ron: "Who're you going with then?"
Fred: "Angelina."
Ron: "What? You've already asked her?"
Fred: "Good point. Oi, Angelina! Want to come to the ball with me?"

Ron: "I could've taken those mer-idiots any time I wanted."
Hermione: "What were you going to do, snore at them?"

Hermione: "Harry, I've been thinking - you know what we've got to do, don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"
Harry: "Yeah, give Ron a good kick up the-"
Hermione: "Write to Sirius."

[Harry considering whom to tell that his scar hurt] As far as informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, full-length wizard's robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose.

(Harry, reading Ron's letter) ...Thought I'd send this with Pig anyway.
Harry stared at the word "Pig", and looked up at the tiny owl now fluttering around the light fixture on the ceiling. He had never seen anything that looked less like a pig.

"He sounds exactly like Moody," said Harry quietly, tucking the letter away again inside his robes. "'Constant vigilance!' You'd think I walk around with my eyes shut, banging off the walls...."

"I've got two Neptunes here," said Harry after a while, frowning down at his piece of parchment, "that can't be right, can it?"
"Aaaaah," said Ron, imitating Professor Trelawney's mystical whisper, "when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Harry.."

He therefore had to endure over an hour of Professor Trelawney, who spent half the lesson telling everyone that the position of Mars with relation to Saturn at that moment meant that people born in July were in great danger of sudden, violent deaths. "Well, that's good," said Harry loudly, his temper getting the better of him, "just as long as it's not drawn out. I don't want to suffer."

"Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!" said Hermione indignantly.
Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like "Lockhart!"

"Oh, am I?" said Ron peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging Hippogriff."
"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" said Hermione.
"How dare you!" said Ron in mock outrage. "We've been working like house elves here!"

"Oh Professor look! I think I found an unaspected planet! Oooh, which one's that, Professor?"
"It is Uranus, my dear," said Professor Trelawney peering down a the chart.
"Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?" said Ron.

"Mr. Weasley, it's Harry.. the fireplace has been blocked up. You won't be able to get through there."
"Damn!" said Mr. Weasley's voice. "What on earth did they want to block the fireplace for?"
"They've got an electric fire," Harry explained.
"Really?" said Mr. Weasley's voice excitedly. "Eclectic, you say? With a plug? Gracious, I must see that... Let's think...ouch Ron!"
Ron's voice now joined the others'.
"What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?"
"Oh no, Ron," came Fred's voice, very sarcastically. "No, this is exactly where we want to end up."
"Yeah, we're having the time of our lives here," said George, whose voice sounded muffled, as though he was squashed against the wall.

"But Hogwarts is hidden," said Hermione, in surprise. "Everyone knows that... well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway."
"Just you, then," said Ron.

"Why weren't you two at dinner?" she [Hermione] said, coming over to join them.
"Because --- oh shut up laughing, you two --- because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!" said Ginny.
That shut Harry and Ron up.
"Thanks a bunch, Ginny," said Ron sourly.
"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" said Hermione loftily. "Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone somewhere who'll have you."
But Ron was staring at Hermione as though suddenly seeing her in a whole new light.
"Hermione, Neville's right --- you are a girl...."
"Oh well spotted," she said acidly.
"Well --- you can come with one of us!"
"No, I can't," snapped Hermione.
"Oh come on," he said impatiently, "we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has..."
"I can't come with you," said Hermione, now blushing, "because I'm already going with someone."
"No, you're not!" said Ron. "You just said that to get rid of Neville!"
"Oh did I?" said Hermione, and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!"
Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again.
"Okay, okay, we know you're a girl," he said. "That do? Will you come now?"

"Wild!" he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again ... and again ... and again. . ."

A week after Fred and George's departure, Harry witnessed Professor McGonagall walking right past Peeves, who was determinedly loosening a crystal chandelier, and could have sworn he heard her tell the poltergeist out of the corner of her mouth, "It unscrews the other way."

"Well, we were always going to fail that one," said Ron gloomily as they ascended the marble staircase. He had just made Harry feel rather better by telling him how he told the examiner in detail about the ugly man with a wart on his nose in the crystal ball, only to look up an realize he had been describing the examiner's reflection.

"How long have you been 'Big D' then?" said Harry.
"Shut it," snarled Dudley, turning away again.
"Cool name," said Harry, grinning, "but you'll always
be Ickle Diddykins to me."
"Shut your face."
"You don't tell her to shut her face. What about 'popkin' and 'Dinky Diddydums,' can I use them then?"

"Who's Kreacher?"
"The house-elf who lives here," said Ron. "Nutter. Never met one like him."
"He is not a nutter," said Hermione.
"His life's ambition is to have his head cut off and stuck up on a plaque like his mother," said Ron. "Is that normal, Hermione?"

(After Lupin goes through a list of all the things they've done to discredit Dumbledore) "But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog Cards," said Bill, grinning.

"Ah," said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. "Dumbledore. Yes. You -er -got our - er - message that the time and - er - place of the hearing had been changed then?"
"I must have missed it," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done."
"Yes - well - I suppose we'll need another chair - I - Weasley, could you --?"
"Not to worry, not to worry," said Dumbledore pleasantly; he took out his wand, gave it a little flick, and a squishy chintz armchair appeared out of nowhere next to Harry. Dumbledore sat down, put the tips of his long fingers together and surveyed Fudge over them with an expression of polite interest. (Dumbledore is just too cool!)

"Well, I had one that I was playing Quidditch the other night," said Ron, screwing up his face in an effort to remember. "What do you think that means?"
"Probably that you're going to be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something," said Harry, turning the pages of The Dream Oracle without interest.

"Er - thanks very much, Ernie," said Harry, taken aback. Ernie might be pompous on occasions like these, but Harry was in a mood to deeply appreciate a vote of confidence from somebody who was not wearing radishes in their ears.

"The hats have gone," Hermione said happily. "Seems the house-elves do want freedom after all."
"I wouldn't be on it," Ron told her cuttingly. "They might not count as clothes. They didn't look anything like hats to me, more like woolly bladders."

"Harry, don't go picking a row with Malfoy, don't forget, he's a prefect now, he could make life difficult for you..."
"Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life?" said Harry sarcastically.

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias Smith.
"Here's an idea," said Ron loudly, "why don't you shut your mouth?"
"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," he said.
"That's not what he said," said Fred Weasley.
"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" inquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko's bags.
"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," said Fred.

"What's up with you, Hermione?"
She was gazing out the window, but not as though she really saw it. Her eyes were unfocused and there was a frown on her face.
"Just thinking..." she said, still frowning.
"About Siri-"
"Snuffles?" said Harry.
"No...not exactly..." said Hermione slowly. "More...wondering...I suppose we're doing the right thing...I think....aren't we?"
Harry and Ron looked at each other.
"Well, that clears that up," said Ron. "It would have been really annoying if you hadn't explained yourself properly."

"-but you get these massive pus-filled boils too," said George, "and we haven't worked out how to get rid of them yet."
"I can't see any boils," said Ron, staring at the twins.
"No, well, you wouldn't," said Fred, "they're not in a place we generally display to the public-"
"-but they make sitting on a broom a right pain in the-"
Fred and George were looking particularly annoyed; both were bandy-legged and winced with every movement. "I think a few of mine have ruptured," said Fred in a hollow voice.
"Mine haven't," said George, through clenched teeth. "They're throbbing like mad...feel bigger if anything..."

They were so busy that Hermione had stopped knitting elf hats and was fretting that she was down to her last three. "All those poor elves I haven't set free yet, having to stay over during Christmas because there aren't enough hats!"

"We're not doing anything new?" said Zacharias Smith, in a disgruntled whisper loud enough to carry through the room. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come..."
"We're all really sorry Harry didn't tell you, then," said Fred loudly.

"Well?" said Ron finally, looking up at Harry. "How was it?"
Harry considered for a moment.
"Wet," he said truthfully.
Ron made a noise that might have indicated jubilation or disgust, it was hard to tell.
"Because she was crying," Harry continued heavily.
"Oh," said Ron, his smile fading slightly. "Are you that bad at kissing?"
"Dunno," said Harry, who hadn't considered this, and immediately felt rather worried. "Maybe I am."

A slightly stunned silence greeted the end of this speech, then Ron said, "One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode."
"Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have," said Hermione.

Rita stared at her. So did Harry. Luna, on the other hand, sang "Weasley is our King" dreamily under her breath and stirred her drink with a cocktail onion on a stick.

As they climbed the staircase, the photos of various Healers called out to them, diagnosing odd complaints and suggesting horrible remedies. Ron was seriously affronted when a medieval wizard called out that he clearly had a bad case of spattergroit.
"And what's that supposed to be?" he asked angrily, as the Healer pursued him through six more portraits, shoving the occupants out of the way.
"'Tis a most grievous affliction of the skin, young master, that will leave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now-"
"Watch who you're calling gruesome!" said Ron, his ears turning red.
"The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tight about your throat, stand naked by the full moon in a barrel of eels' eyes-"
"I have not got spattergroit!"
"But the unsightly blemishes on your visage, young master-"
"They're freckles!" said Ron furiously. "Now get back in your own picture and leave me alone!"
He rounded on the others, who were all keeping determinedly straight faces.

"Yeah, Montague tried to do us during break," said George.
"What do you mean, 'tried'?" said Ron quickly.
"He never managed to get all the words out," said Fred, "due to the fact that we forced him headfirst into that Vanishing Cabinet on the first floor."
Hermione looked very shocked. "But you'll get into terrible trouble!"
"Not until Montague reappears, and that could take weeks, I dunno where we sent him," said Fred coolly. "Anyway, we've decided that we don't care about getting into trouble anymore."
"Have you ever?" asked Hermione.
"'Course we have," said George. "Never been expelled, have we?"
"We might have put a toe across occasionally," said Fred.
"But we've always stopped short of causing real mayhem," said Fred.
"But now?" said Ron tentatively.
"-what with Dumbledore gone-" said Fred.
"-we reckon a bit of mayhem-" said George.
"-is exactly what our dear new Head deserves," said Fred.

"Cheers," whispered George, wiping tears of laughter from his face. "Oh, I hope she tries Vanishing them next...they multiply by ten every time you try..."
The fireworks continued to burn and spread all over the school that afternoon. Though they caused plenty of disruption, the other teachers did not seem to mind them very much.
"Dear, dear," said Professor McGonagall sardonically, as one of the dragons soared around her classroom, emitting loud bangs and exhaling flame. "Miss Brown, would you mind running along to the headmistress and informing her that we have an escaped firework in our classroom?"
"Thank you so much, Professor!" said Professor Flitwick in his squeaky little voice. "I could have got rid of the sparklers myself, of course, but I wasn't sure whether I had the authority..."
Beaming, he closed the classroom door in Umbridge's snarling face.

"How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" said James.
"I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment," said Sirius viciously. "There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."

"You two," she went on, gazing down at Fred and George, "are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."
"You know what?" said Fred. "I don't think we are."
He turned to his twin.
"George," said Fred, "I think we've outgrown a full-time education."
"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," said George lightly.
"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?" asked Fred.
"Definitely," said George.
And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wants and said together, "Accio Brooms!"
Harry heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking to his left he ducked just in time -- Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners. They turned left, streaked down the stairs, and stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the flagged stone floor.
"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.
"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George, mounting his own.
Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd.
"If anybody fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three Diagon Alley - Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"
"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," said George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.
"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.
"Give her hell from us, Peeves."
And Peeves, whom Harry had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.

By the time Ernie MacMillan, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein, and Terry Boot had finished using a wide variety of the hexes and jinxes Harry had taught them, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle resembled nothing so much as three gigantic slugs squeezed into Hogwarts uniforms as Harry, Ernie and Justin hoisted them into the luggage rack and left them there to ooze.
"I must say, I'm looking forward to seeing Malfoy's mother's face when he gets off the train," said Ernie with satisfaction.
"Goyle's mum'll be really pleased, though," said Ron. "He's loads better looking now."

"And do I look like the kind of man that can be intimidated?" barked Uncle Vernon.
"Well..." said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving eye. Uncle Vernon lept backward in horror and collided painfully with a luggage trolley. "Yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley."

"Didn't you listen to Dolores Umbridge's speech at the start-of-term feast, Potter?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah...she said...progress will be prohibited or...well, it meant that...that the Ministry of Magic is trying to interfere at Hogwarts."
"Well, I'm glad you listen to Hermione Granger at any rate."

Hermione drew herself to her full height; her eyes were narrowed and her hair seemed to crackle with electricity. "No," she said, her voice quivering with anger, "but I will write to your mother."
"You wouldn't," said George, horrified, taking a step back from her.
"Oh, yes, I would," said Hermione grimly. "I can't stop you from eating the stupid things yourself, but you're not giving them to first years."
Fred and George looked thunderstruck. It was clear that as far as they were concerned, Hermione's threat was way below the belt.

"Has Ron saved a goal yet?" asked Hermione.
"Well, he can do it if he thinks no one is watching him," said Fred, rolling his eyes. "So all we have to do is ask the crowd to turn their backs and talk among themselves every time the Quaffle goes up on his end Saturday."

Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.

Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our King.

"The headmistress would like to see you, Potter," [Filch] leered.
"I didn't do it," said Harry stupidly, thinking of whatever Fred and George were planning.
Filch's jowls wobbled with silent laughter. "Guilty conscience eh?" he wheezed.
"Follow me...."

"I'll give you undercover!" cried Mrs. Figg. "Dementors, you useless, skiving sneak thief!"
"Dementors?" repeated Mundungus, aghast. "Dementors here?"
"Yes, here, you worthless pile of bat droppings, here!" shrieked Mrs. Figg.

"Not this brave at night, are you?" sneered Dudley.
"This is night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this."

"I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle's low grunt, and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair.
"I...must...not...look...like...a...baboon's...backside..."

"Is Bill here?" he (Harry) asked. "I thought he was working in Egypt."
"He applied for a desk job so he could home and work for the order," said Fred. "He says he misses the tombs, but," he smirked. "there are compensations..."
"What d'you mean?"
"Remember old Fleur Delacour?" said George. "She's got a job at Gringotts to eemprove 'er Eeenglish-"
"-and Bill's been giving her a lot of private lessons," sniggered Fred.

"Ready?" said Hagrid happily looking around at the class. "Right, well, I've been savin' a trip inter the forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the only person in Britain who's managed tar train 'em-"
"And you're sure they're trained are you?" said Malfoy, the panic in his voice even more pronounced now. "Only it wouldn't be the first time you've brought wild stuff to class, would it?"

Malfoy glanced around. Harry knew he was checking for signs of teachers. Then he looked back at Harry and said in a low voice, "You're dead, Potter."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Funny," he said, "you'd think I'd have stopped walking around..."

Draco: "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments".
"Yeah," said Harry, "but you, unlike me, are a git."

Harry looked up at Ron. "Well," he said, trying to sound as though he found this whole thing a joke, "if you want to - er - what is it?" He checked Percy's letter. "Oh yeah - 'sever ties' with me, I swear I won't get violent."
"Give it back," said Ron, holding out his hand.
"He is - " Ron said jerkily, tearing Percy's letter in half, "the world's" - He tore it into quarters - "biggest" - He tore it into eighths - "git." He threw the pieces into the fire.
"Come on, we've got to finish this essay sometime before dawn," he said briskly to Harry, pulling Professor Sinistra's essay back toward him.
Hermione was looking at Ron with an odd expression on her face.
"Oh, give them here," she said abruptly.
"What?" said Ron.
"Give them to me, I'll look through them and correct them," she said.
"Are you serious? Ah, Hermione, you're a lifesaver," said Ron, "what can I - ?"
"What you can say is, 'We promise we'll never leave our homework this late again,' " she said, holding out both hands for their essays, but she looked slightly amused all the same.
"Thanks a million, Hermione," said Harry weakly, passing over his essay, and sinking back into his armchair, rubbing his eyes.
...(Later on) "Okay, write that down," Hermione said to Ron, pushing his essay and a sheet covered in her own writing back to Ron, "and then copy out this conclusion that I've written for you."
"Hermione, you are honestly the most wonderful person I have ever met," said Ron weakly, "and if I'm ever rude to you again - "
" - I'll know you're back to normal," said Hermione.

"Who do you think wants to attack children like yourselves?" inquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.
"Hmm, let's think..." said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice, "maybe Lord Voldemort?"
Ron gasped; Lavender Brown uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring sideways at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."
The classroom was silent and still. Everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry.
"Now, let me make a few things quite plain."
Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned toward them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk.
"You have been told a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead -"
"He wasn't dead," said Harry angrily, "but, yeah, he's returned!"
"Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-
not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him.

Professor McGonagall sat down behind her desk, watching Harry closely. Then she said, "Have a biscuit, Potter."
"Have - what?"
"Have a biscuit," she repeated impatiently, indicating a tartan tin of cookies lying on top of one of the piles of papers on her desk.

Dudley: "He [Mark Evans] cheeked me."
Harry: "Yeah? Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to walk on its hind legs? 'Cause that's not cheek, Dud, that's true."

"Keep your 'airnet on!" said Mundungus, his arms over his head, cowering. "I'm going, I'm going!" And with another loud CRACK, he vanished.
"I hope Dumbledore MURDERS him!" said Mrs Figg furiously. "Now come ON, Harry, what are you waiting for?"
Harry decided not to waste his remaining breath on pointing out that he could barely walk under Dudley's bulk.

Professor Umbridge gave her most pronounced cough yet.
"May I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?" Professor McGonagall asked curtly, without looking at Professor Umbridge.
"I was just wondering whether Mr Potter has quite the temperament for an Auror?" said Professor Umbridge sweetly.
"Were you?" said Professor McGonagall haughtily. "Well, Potter," she continued, as though there had been no interruption.

"Don't put your wand there , boy!" roared Moody. "What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, you know!"
"Who d'you know who's lost a buttock?" the violet-haired woman asked Mad-Eye interestedly.
"Never you mind, you just keep your wand out of your back pocket!" growled Mad-Eye. "Elementary wand safety, nobody bothers about it anymore...." He stumped off toward the kitchen. "And I saw that," he added irritably, as the woman rolled her eyes at the ceiling.

"We do try," said Ron. "We just haven't got your brains or your memory or your concentration--you're just cleverer than we are--is it nice to rub it in?"
"Oh, don't give me that rubbish," said Hermione, but she looked slightly mollified as she led the way out into the damp courtyard.

"Did you like question ten, Moony?" asked Sirius as they emerged into the entrance hall.
"Loved it," said Lupin briskly. "'Give five signs that identify the werewolf.' Excellent question."
"D'you think you managed to get all the signs?" said James in tones of mock concern.
"Think I did," said Lupin seriously, as they joined the crowd thronging around the front doors eager to get out into the sunlit grounds. "One: He's sitting on my chair. Two: He's wearing my clothes. Three: His name's Remus Lupin..."

"I said to him-didn't mention names, of course-but I said I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage...."
"What did he say?" asked George.
"Said he'd give me another bite if I didn't shut up," said Mr. Weasley sadly.

Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek just like Hermione's.
"I don't believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That's everyone in the family!"
"What are Fred and I, next-door neighbours?" said George indignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung her arms around her youngest son.

"It was my father's," said Sirius, throwing the ring into the sack. "Kreacher wasn't quite as devoted to him as to my mother, but I still caught him snogging a pair of my father's old trousers last week."

James was still playing with the snitch, letting it zoom farther and farther away, almost escaping but always grabbed at the last second. Wormtail was watching him with his mouth open. Every time James made a particularly difficult catch, Wormtail gasped and applauded. After five minutes of this, Harry wondered why James didn't tell Wormtail to get a grip on himsel, but James seemed to be enjoying the attention. Harry noticed his father had a habit of rumpling up his hair as though to make sure it did not get too tidy , and also that he kept looking over at the girls by the water's edge.
"Put that away, will you?" said Sirius finally, as James made a fine catch and Wormtail let out a cheer. "Before Wormtail wets himself from excitement."

"And I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community. It's an occupational hazrd of being a werewolf."

"Don't put your wand there, boy!" roared Moody. "What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, you know!"

"Well, as everyone thinks I'm a mad mass murderer and the Ministry's put a ten-thousand Galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?"

"Professor Umbridge ran afoul of our centaur herd," said Dumbledore. "I think you, Horace, would have known better than to stride into the forest and call a horde of angry centaurs 'filthy half-breeds.'" "That's what she did, did she?" said Slughorn. "Idiotic woman. Never liked her." Harry chuckled and both Dumbledore and Slughorn looked round at him. "Sorry," Harry said hastily. "It's just — I didn't like her either."

"If I'm having lessons with you, I won't have to do Occlumency with Snape, will I?"
"Professor Snape, Harry - and no, you will not."
"Good," said Harry in relief, "because they were a -"
"I think the word 'fiasco' would be a good one here."

"Arthur, is that you?"
"Yes," came Mr. Weasley's weary voice. "But I would say that even if I were a Death Eater, dear. Ask the question!"
"Oh, honestly..."
"Molly!"
"All right, all right... What is your dearest ambition?"
"To find out how airplanes stay up."
Mrs. Weasley nodded and turned the doorknob, but apparently Mr. Weasley was holding tight to it on the other side, because the door remained firmly shut.
"Molly! I've got to ask you your question first!"
"Arthur, really, this is just silly..."
"What do you like me to call you when we're alone together?"
Even by the dim light of the lantern Harry could tell that Mrs. Weasley had turned bright red; he himself felt suddenly warm around the ears and neck, and hastily gulped soup, clattering his spoon as loudly as he could against the bowl.
"Mollywobbles," whispered a mortified Mrs. Weasley into the crack at the edge of the door.

"You know," said Hermione, looking up at Harry, "that really is extraordinary magic!"
"For that, Hermione," said a voice behind them, "you can have one for free."

"Wuzzgoinon?"
"We didn't know you were here already!" said a loud and excited voice, and he received a sharp blow to the top of the head.
"Ron, don't hit him!" said a girl's voice reproachfully.

"I know I messed up Ancient Runes," muttered Hermione feverishly. "I definitely made at least one serious mistranslation. And the Defense Against the Dark Arts practical was no good at all. I thought Transfiguration went all right at the time, but looking back..."
"Hermione, will you shut up? You're not the only one who's nervous!" barked Ron. "And when you've got your eleven 'Outstanding OWLs...’"
"Don't, don't, don't!" said Hermione, flapping her hands hysterically. "I know I've failed everything!"

"I see that being Dumbledore's favorite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you."
Harry looked mockingly all around the shop. "Wow... look at that... he's not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!"

"'Harry Potter knows that he can confide in me with complete confidence,' I told them. 'I would rather die than betray his trust.'"
“That's not saying much, seeing as you're already dead," Ron observed.
“Once again, you show all the sensitivity of a blunt axe," said Nearly Headless Nick in affronted tones.

"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry stiffly.
"Yes, sir."
"There's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor."

"If you tell them," said Ron, shoving the necklace out of sight under his pillow, "I — I — I’ll —"
"Stutter at me?" said Harry, grinning. "Come on, would I?"
"How could she think I'd like something like that, though?" Ron demanded of thin air, looking rather shocked.
"Well, think back," said Harry. "Have you ever let it slip that you'd like to go out in public with the words 'My Sweetheart' round your neck?"
"Well... we don't really talk much," said Ron. "It's mainly . . ."
"Snogging," said Harry.

"You'd think people had better things to gossip about," said Ginny as she sat on the common room floor, leaning against Harry's legs and reading the Daily Prophet. "Three Dementor attacks in a week, and all Romilda Vane does is ask me if it's true you've got a Hippogriff tattooed across your chest."
Ron and Hermione both roared with laughter. Harry ignored them.
"What did you tell her?"
"I told her it's a Hungarian Horntail," said Ginny, turning a page of the newspaper idly. "Much more macho."
"Thanks," said Harry, grinning. 'And what did you tell her Ron's got?"
"A Pygmy Puff, but I didn't say where."

"How are you, Harry?" They shook hands. "And what's happened to your eye, Hermione?"
Your punching telescope," she said ruefully.
“Oh blimey, I forgot about those," said Fred.

"And that's Smith of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle," said a dreamy voice, echoing over the grounds. "He did the commentary last time, of course, and Ginny Weasley flew into him, I think probably on purpose, it looked like it. Smith was being quite rude about Gryffindor, I expect he regrets that now he's playing them — oh, look, he's lost the Quaffle. Ginny took it from him. I do like her, she's very nice..."

". . . but now that big Hufflepuff player's got the Quaffle from , her, I can't remember his name, it's something like Bibble — no, Buggins —"
"It's Cadwallader!" said Professor McGonagall loudly from beside Luna. The crowd laughed.

"But I thought he liked me," she said plaintively. "Maybe if you two left, he'd come back again. We had lots in common. I'm sure he felt it."
And she looked hopefully toward the door. "When you say you had lots in common," said Ron, sounding rather amused now, "d'you mean he lives in an S-bend too?"

"I don't want to stay here overnight," said Harry angrily, sitting up and throwing back his covers. "I want to find McLaggen and kill him."
"I'm afraid that would come under the heading of 'overexertion,'" said Madam Pomfrey.

"You're right," said Hermione, prodding Ron out of the chair with her foot and offering it to the first year again. "It wasn't very well thought-out at all."
"But since when has Malfoy been one of the world's great thinkers?" asked Harry.
Neither Ron nor Hermione answered him.

"You could say sorry," suggested Harry bluntly.
"What, and get attacked by another flock of canaries?" muttered Ron.
"What did you have to imitate her for?"
"She laughed at my mustache!"
"So did I, it was the stupidest thing I've ever seen."
"And speaking of hitherto unsuspected skills, Ronald," said George, "what is this we hear from Ginny about you and a young lady called - unless our information is faulty - Lavender Brown?"
Ron turned a little pink, but did not look displeased as he turned back to the sprouts. "Mind your own business."
"What a snappy retort," said Fred. "I really don't know how you think of them. No, what we wanted to know was ... how did it happen?"
"What d'you mean?"
"Did she have an accident or something?"
"What?"
"Well, how did she sustain such extensive brain damage?"

Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he said loudly to Hermione, "Look, let me go back and hit Percy!"
"No," she said firmly, grabbing his arm.
"It'll make me feel better!"

"I would assume that you were going to offer me refreshment," Dumbledore said to Uncle Vernon, "but the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of foolishness."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Dumbledore politely, and he raised his wand again. All three glasses vanished. "But it would have been better manners to drink it, you know."

"There is no way they'd let me be a Death Eater!" said Ron indignantly, a bit of sausage flying off the fork he was now brandishing at Hermione and hitting Ernie Macmillan on the head. "My whole family are blood traitors! That's as bad as Muggle-borns to Death Eaters!"
"And they'd love to have me," said Harry sarcastically. "We'd be best pals if they didn't keep trying to do me in."

[talking about Inferi in DADA...] "When we come face-to-face with one down a dark alley, we're going to be having a look to see if it's solid, aren't we? We're not going to be asking, 'Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?'"

"It would take more zan a werewolf to stop Bill loving me!"
"Well, yes, I'm sure," said Mrs. Weasley, "but I thought perhaps -- given how -- how he --"
"You thought I would not weesh to marry him? Or per'aps, you hoped?" said Fleur, her nostrils flaring. "What do I care how he looks? I am good looking enough for both of us, I theenk!"

"And then I called out, 'Who's there?'"
"You couldn't have found out who it was without asking?" Harry asked her, slightly frustrated.
"The Inner Eye," said Professor Trelawney with dignity, straightening her shawls and many strands of glittering beads, "was fixed upon matters well outside the mundane realms of whooping voices."
"Right," said Harry hastily; he had heard about Professor Trelawney's Inner Eye all too often before. "And did the voice say who was there?"
"No, it did not," she said. "Everything went pitch black and the next thing I knew, I was being hurled headfirst out of the Room!"
"And you didn't see that coming?" said Harry, unable to help himself.
"No, I did not, as I say, it was pitch -" She stopped and glared at him suspiciously.

Fred, George, Harry, and Ron were the only ones who knew that the angel on top of the tree was actually a garden gnome that had bitten Fred on the ankle as he pulled up carrots for Christmas dinner. Stupefied, painted gold, stuffed into a miniature tutu and with small wings glued to its back, it glowered down at them all, the ugliest angel Harry had ever seen, with a large bald head like a potato and rather hairy feet.

"Yeah, like you'd dare do magic out of school," sneered Malfoy. "Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers."

"There isn't anyone I want to invite," mumbled Harry, who was still trying not to think about Ginny any more than he could help, despite the fact the fact that she kept cropping up in his dreams in ways that made him devoutly thankful that Ron could not perform Legilimency.

"It looks like he's eating her face, doesn't it?" said Ginny dispassionately. "But I suppose he's got to refine his technique somehow."

He had known Ginny for years now....It was natural that he should feel protective...natural that he should want to look out for her...want to rip Dean limb from limb for kissing her...No...he would have to control that particular brotherly feeling....

She's Ron's sister
But she's ditched Dean!
She's still Ron's sister.
I'm his best mate!
That'll make it worse.
If I talked to him first--
He'd hit you.
What if I don't care?
He's your best mate!

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each of according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and -" But she turned slightly pink and did not complete the sentence.

There was a noise like a plunger being withdrawn from a blocked sink and Ron surfaced. Hermione acted as though she had not seen or heard anything.

"I enjoyed the [DA] meetings, too," said Luna serenely. "It was like having friends."

"Promise me you'll look after yourself.. .. Stay out of trouble. ..."
"I always do, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry. "I like a quiet life, you know me."

"Did you hear, there's supposed to be a vampire coming?"
"Rufus Scrimgeour?" asked Luna.
"I - what?" said Harry, disconcerted. "You mean the Minister of Magic?"
"Yes, he's a vampire," said Luna matter-of-factly. "Father wrote a very long article about it when Scrimgeour first took over from Cornelius Fudge, but he was forced not to publish by somebody from the Ministry. Obviously, they didn't want the truth to get out!"

"I don't think you should be an Auror, Harry," said Luna unexpectedly. Everybody looked at her. "The Aurors are part of the Rotfang Conspiracy, I thought everyone knew that. They're planning to bring down the Ministry of Magic from within using a combination of Dark Magic and gum disease."

"'E is always so thoughtful," purred Fleur adoringly, stroking Bill's nose. Ginny mimed vomiting into her cereal behind Fleur. Harry choked over his cornflakes, and Ron thumped him on the back.

"This time, you will enter the Pensieve with me...and, even more unusually, with permission."

Non-verbal spells were now expected, not only in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but in Charms and Transfiguration too. Harry frequently looked over at his classmates in the common room or at mealtimes to see them purple in the face and straining as though they had overdosed U-No-Poo.

"Oh, don't start acting as though you understand Quidditch," snapped Ginny [to Hermione], "you'll only embarrass yourself."

Harry looked around; there was Ginny running towards him; she had a hard, blazing look in her face as she threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that fifty people were watching, Harry kissed her.
After several moments – or it might have been half an hour – or possibly several sunlit days – they broke apart. The room had gone very quiet. Then several people wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of nervous giggling. Harry looked over the top of Ginny’s head to see Dean Thomas holding a shattered glass in his hand and Romilda Vane looking as though she might throw something. Hermione was beaming, but Harry’s eyes sought Ron. At last he found him, still clutching the Cup and wearing an expression appropriate to having been clubbed over the head. For a fraction of a second the looked at each other, then Ron gave a tiny jerk of the head that Harry understood to mean, “Well – if you must.”

And the next thing Harry knew, he was lying in a remarkably warm and comfortable bed and looking up at a lamp that was throwing a circle of golden light on to a shadowy ceiling. He raised his head awkwardly. There on his left was a familiar-looking, freckly, red-haired person.
“Nice of you to drop in,” said Ron, grinning.

"But you are normal!" said Harry fiercely. "You've just got a-a problem-"
Lupin burst out laughing. "Sometimes you remind me alot of James. He called it my 'furry little problem' in company. Many people were under the impression that I owned a badly behaved rabbit."

"Harry Potter!" bellowed Hagrid, slopping some of his fourteenth bucket of wine down his chin as he drained it.
"Yes, indeed," cried Slughorn a little thickly, "Parry Otter, the Chosen Boy Who — well — something of that sort," he mumbled, and drained his mug too.

"I'm a teacher!" he roared at Harry. "A teacher, Potter! How dare yeh threaten ter break down my door!"
"I'm sorry, sir," said Harry, emphasizing the last word as he stowed his wand inside his robes.
Hagrid looked stunned. "Since when have yeh called me 'sir'?"
"Since when have you called me 'Potter'?"
"Oh, very clever," growled Hagrid. "Very amusin'. That's me outsmarted, innit? All righ', come in then, yeh ungrateful little . . ."

"Ginny, where are you going?" yelled Harry, who had found himself trapped in the midst of a mid air hug with the rest of the team, but Ginny sped right past them until, with an almighty crash, she collided with the commentator's podium.
As the crowd shrieked and laughed, the Gryffindor team landed beside the wreakage of wood under which Zacharias was feebly stirring; Harry heard Ginny saying blithely to an irate Professor McGonagall, "Forgot to brake, Professor, sorry."

Harry gaped at him [Ron.] He had not expected this and was not sure he wanted to hear it. Friends they might be, but if Ron started calling Lavender "Lav-Lav," he would have to put his foot down.

"How d'you spell 'belligerent'?" said Ron, shaking his quill very hard while staring at his parchment. "It can't be B-U-M-"
"No, it isn't," said Hermione, pulling Ron's essay toward her. "And 'augury' doesn't begin O-R-G either. What kind of quill are you using?"
"It's one of Fred and George's Spell-Check ones... but I think the charm must be wearing off..."
"Yes, it must," said Hermione, pointing at the title of his essay, "because we were asked how we'd deal with dementors, not 'Dugbogs,' and I don't remember you changing your name to 'Roonil Wazlib' either."

Lavender was waiting beside the portrait hole, a complication Harry had not foreseen.
"You're late, Won-Won!" she pouted. "I've got you a birthday-"
"Leave me alone," said Ron impatiently. "Harry's going to introduce me to Romilda Vane."
And without another word to her, he pushed his way out of the portrait hole. Harry tried to make an apologetic face to Lavender, but it might have turned out simply amused, because she looked more offended than ever as the Fat Lady swung shut behind them.

Harry looked around; all three of the Dursleys were cowering with their arms over their heads as their glasses bounced up and down on their skulls, their contents flying everywhere.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Dumbledore politely, and he raised his wand again. All three glasses vanished. "But it would have been better manners to drink it, you know."

"This is the copy of Advanced Potion-Making that you purchased from Flourish and Blotts?"
"Yes," said Harry firmly.
"Then why," asked Snape, "does it have the name 'Roonil Wazlib' written inside the front cover?"
Harrys heart missed a beat. "That's my nickname," he said.
"Your nickname," repeated Snape.
"Yeah...that's what my friends call me," said Harry.
"I understand what a nickname is," said Snape.

She looked scandalized. Bending low so that only Harry could hear her, she hissed, "You should be expelled for that. I'd never have believed it of you, Harry!"
"Look who's talking," he whispered back. "Confunded anyone lately?"

"Your permission," scoffed Ginny. "Since when did you give me permission to do anything? Anyway, you said yourself you'd rather it was Harry than Michael or Dean."
"Yeah, I would," said Ron grudgingly. "And just as long as you don't start snogging each other in public -"
"You filthy hypocrite! What about you and Lavender, thrashing around like a pair of eels all over the place?" demanded Ginny.

"Professor Umbridge ran afoul of our centaur herd," said Dumbledore. "I think you, Horace, would have known better than to stride into the forest and call a horde of angry centaurs 'filthy half-breeds.'"
"That's what she did, did she?" said Slughorn. "Idiotic woman. Never liked her."
Harry chuckled and both Dumbledore and Slughorn looked round at him.
"Sorry," Harry said hastily. "It's just — I didn't like her either."

Pointing his wand at nothing in particular, he gave it an upward flick and said 'Levicorpus!' inside his head.
"Aaaaaaaargh!"
There was a flash of light and the room was full of voices: Everyone had woken up as Ron had let out a yell. Harry sent Advanced Potion-Making flying in panic; Ron was dangling upside down in midair as though an invisible hook had hoisted him up by the ankle.
"Sorry!" yelled Harry, as Dean and Seamus roared with laughter, and Neville picked himself up from the floor, having fallen out of Bed. "Hang on — I'll let you down —"
He groped for the potion book and riffled through it in a panic, trying to find the right page; at last he located it and deciphered the cramped word underneath the spell: Praying that this was the counter-jinx, Harry thought 'Liberacorpus!' with all his might. There was another flash of light, and Ron fell in a heap onto his mattress.
"Sorry," repeated Harry weakly, while Dean and Seamus continued to roar with laughter.
"Tomorrow," said Ron in a muffled voice, "I'd rather you set the alarm clock."

"Someone's dead," said Malfoy and his voice seemed to go up an octave as he said it. "One of your people...I don't know who, it was dark...I stepped over the body...I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way..."
"Yes, they do that," said Dumbledore.

"A little way to his left, Ernie Macmillan was contemplating his hoop so hard that his face had turned pink; it looked as if he was straining to lay a Quaffle-sized egg."

"Oh, no, I'd love to go with you as friends!" said Luna, beaming as he had never seen her beam before. "Nobody's ever asked me to a party before, as a friend! Is that why you dyed your eyebrow, for the party? Should I do mine too?"

"They're not still holding Stan Shunpike, are they?" asked Harry.
"I'm afraid so," said Mr. Weasley. "I know Dumbledore's tried appealing directly to Scrimgeour about Stan. I mean, anybody who has actually interviewed him agrees that he's about as much a Death Eater as this satsuma..."

"Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did not warn you that I was coming," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "However, let ua assume that you have invited me warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on doorsteps in these troubled times."
He stepped smartly over the threshold and closed the front door behind him.

"I do," she [Moaning Myrtle] said, with a sulky little shrug, "but that doesn't mean I can't visit other places. I came and saw you in your bath once, remember?"
"Vividly," said Harry.

"No!" said Parvati, looking positively agog at thi s piece of gossip. "Wow, you like your Quidditch players, don't you? First Krum, then McLaggen."
"I like really good Quidditch players," Hermione corrected her, still smiling.

"I don't think she knows I exist," said Ron in a desperate gesture.
"She definitely knows you exist," said Harry bewildered. "She keep snogging you, doesn't she?"
Ron blinked. "Who are you talking about?"
"Who are you talking about?" said Harry with an increasing sense that all reason had dropped out of their conversation.
"Romilda Vane," said Ron softly, and his whole face seemed to illuminate as he said it, as though hit by a ray of purest sunlight.
They stared at eachother for almost a whole minute, before Harry said, "This is a joke right? You're joking."
"I think...Harry, I think I love her," said Ron in a strangled voice."