review review review!! PM me if u have questions...looking for new ideas and suggestions!! just updated my collection story with another few chapters :) enjoyyy!!

I LOVE YOU Inveiglee!! My sister, sexy girlfriend, and father ;) cudnt hav done it without u babe!!

I am, as forever, a die hard Jacob (movie), Edward (book), Hermione (both), and Draco (both) fan :D

copy&paste!!

If you have ever pushed on a door that said pull or the vise versa copy this into your profile.

Weird is good, strange is bad, and odd is when you don't know which to call someone. Weird is the same as different, which is the same as unique, than weird is good. If you are weird and proud of it, copy this onto your profile!

If you have ever tripped over your own feet, copy and paste this into your profile.

If you are obsessed with fanfiction copy this into your profile.

If you have ever slapped yourself on the head and/or banged your head on the table and/or hit your head on a shelf for no reason, put this in your profile.

If you have embarassing memories that make you want to slap yourself/someone else, put this on your profile.

If you hear the voices of characters in your head, put this onto your profile.

If you are completely, totally, utterly, eternally, hopelessly obsessed with the Harry Potter series, put this onto your profile.

funny HP quotes: (special thanks to anglediane for pointing out a mistake!)

"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-"

"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!

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

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.

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..."

"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."

"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."

"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."

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

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" Harry
"Throw it away and punch him in the nose," suggested Ron.

One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban.

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" said Hermione in alarm.
"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron.

"Now, you two - Behave yourselves. If I get one word that you've blown up a toilet or - " Mrs. Weasley
"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."
"Great idea though, thanks, Mum."

Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told the other two about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.
"Don't play," said Hermione at once.
"Say you're ill," said Ron.
"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.
"Really break your leg," said Ron.

"See?" said Hermione, when Harry and Ron had finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"
"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."
"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," said Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

Harry left the locker room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broomshed. He couldn't ever remember feeling happier. He'd really done something to be proud of now - no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him onto their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed.

"It bit me!" he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief.
"I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

"Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won't they?" said Hermione as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging toward the enchanted barrier. "When they hear what you did this year?"
"Proud?" said Harry. "Are you crazy? All those times I could've died, and I didn't manage it? They'll be furious..."

"There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.
"What's this?" he asked Petunia.
"Your new school uniform," she said.
"Oh," he said. "I didn't realise it had to be so wet."

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 and I succeeded in turning her into a yak! Thank you, Kwikspell!"

"Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache.

They were almost at King's Cross when Harry remembered something.
"Ginny--what did you see Percy doing, that he didn't want you to tell anyone?"
"Oh that," said Ginny, giggling. "Well--Percy's got a girlfriend."
Fred dropped a stack of books on George's head. "What?"
"It's that Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater," said Ginny. "That's who he was writing to all last summer. He's been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day. He was so upest when she was--you know--attacked. You won't tease him, will you?" she added anxiously.
"Wouldn't dream of it," said Fred, who was looking like his birthday had come early.
"Definitely not," said George, sniggering.

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."

As though an invisible hand were writing upon it, words appeared on the smooth surface of the map. "Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business."
Snape froze. Harry stared, dumbstruck, at the message. But the map didn't stop there. More writing was appearing beneath the first.
"Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git."
It would have been funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. And there was more...
"Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor."
Harry closed his eyes in horror. When he'd opened them, the map had had its last word.
"Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball."

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."

"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.

"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."

"Professor Dumbledore - yesterday, when I was having my Divination exam, Professor Trelawney went very - very strange."
"Indeed?" said Dumbledore. "Er - stranger than usual, you mean?"

"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."

"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?"

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.

"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.

"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!"

"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. . ."

"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.

"Of course we still want to know you!" Harry said, staring at Hagrid.
"You don't think anything that Skeeter cow - sorry, Professor," he added quickly, looking at Dumbledore.
"I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said, Harry," said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.

"What are you working on?" said Harry.
"A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation," said Percy smugly. "We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year--"
"That'll change the world, that report will," said Ron. "Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks."

"Mr. Crouch?" said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll..."
"Anyone can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."

"Mr. Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of half-bow that made him look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Oh," said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes — thank you, Weatherby."
Fred and George choked into their own cups. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.

"You’re not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn’t be thinking of restarting Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"
"Now, Mum," said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Somewhere very cold, because they’ve got fur capes as part of their uniforms."
"Ah think of the possibilities," said Ron dreamily. "It would’ve been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident... Shame his mother likes him..."

"Harry’s got a long way to go before he finishes this tournament," she Hermione said seriously. "If that was the first task, I hate to think what’s coming next."
"Right little ray of sunshine, aren’t you?" said Ron. "You and Professor Trelawney should get together sometime."

"You’re joking, Weasley!" said Malfoy, behind them. "You’re not telling me someone’s asked that to the ball? Not the long-molared Mudblood?"
Harry and Ron both whipped round, but Hermione said loudly, waving to somebody over Malfoy’s shoulder, "Hello, Professor Moody!"
Malfoy went pale and jumped backward, looking wildly around for Moody, but he was still up at the staff table, finishing his stew.
"Twitchy little ferret, aren’t you, Malfoy?" said Hermione scathingly, and she, Harry, and Ron went up the marble staircase laughing heartily.

"Colin, I fell in!" he Dennis Creevey said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"
"Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"
"Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

"He's not even good-looking!" she Hermione muttered angrily, glaring at Krum's sharp profile. "They only like him because he's famous! They wouldn't look twice at him if he couldn't do that Wonky-Faint thing - "
"Wronski Feint," said Harry, through gritted teeth. Quite apart from liking to get Quidditch terms correct, it caused him another pang to imagine Ron's expression if he could have heard Hermione talking about Wonky-Faints.

"Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or - "
"That's not funny," said Hermione quietly. "That's not funny at all." She looked extremely anxious. "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?"
"Yeah, give Ron a good kick up the - "
"Write to Sirius."

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.

"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 bet 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."

"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!"

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.

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.

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.

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

"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..."

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."

"Stop doing that!" Hermione said weakly to the twins, who were as vividly red-haired as Ron, though stockier and slighty shorter.
"Hello, Harry," said George, beaming at him. "We thought we heard your dulcet tones."
"You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, Harry, let it all out," said Fred, also beaming. "There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you."

"Yes - yes, good point, Petunia! What were you doing under our window, boy?"
"Listening to the news," said Harry in a resigned voice.
His aunt and uncle exchanged looks of outrage.
"Listening to the news! Again?"
"Well, it changes every day, you see," said Harry.

"What do you mean, I'm not brave in bed?" said Harry, completely nonplussed. "What- am I supposed to be frightened of - pillows or something?"

"We know you're up to something funny," said Aunt Petunia.
"We're not stupid, you know," said Uncle Vernon.
"Well that's news to me," said Harry, his temper rising, and before the Dursleys could call him back, he had wheeled about, crossed the front lawn, stepped over the low garden wall, and was striding off up the street.

"Lovely evening!" shouted Uncle Vernon, waving at Mrs. Number Seven, who was glaring from behind her net curtains. "Did you hear that car backfire just now? Gave Petunia and me quite a turn!"
He continued to grin in a horrible, manic way until all the curious neighbors had disappeared from their various windows, then the grin became a grimace of rage as he beckoned Harry back toward him.

"We're not discussing anything here, it's too risky," said Moody, turning his normal eye on Harry; his magical eye remained pointing up at the ceiling. "Damn it," he added angrily, putting a hand up to the magical eye, "it keeps sticking - ever since that scum wore it - "
And with a nasty squelching sound much like a plunger being pulled from a sink, he popped out his eye.
"Mad-eye, you know that's disgusting, don't you?" said Tonks conversationally.

"Excellent." said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. "We've got about a minute, I think. We should get out into the garden so we're ready. Harry, I've left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry -"
"They won't," said Harry.
"That you're safe -"
"That'll just depress them."
"- and you'll see them next summer."
"Do I have to?"

"What can I do, Molly?" said Tonks enthusiastically, bounding forward.
Mrs. Weasley hesitated, looking apprehensive.
"Er - no, it's all right, Tonks, you have a rest too, you've done enough today.
"No, no I want to help!" said Tonks brightly, knocking over a chair as she hurried toward the dresser from which Ginny was collecting cutlery.

"We thought we'd just have a few words with you about Harry," said Mr. Weasley, still smiling.
"Yeah," growled Moody. "About how he's treated when he's at your place."
Uncle Vernon's mustache seemed to bristle with indignation. Possibly because the bowler hat gave him the entirely mistaken impression that he was dealing with a kindred spirit, he addressed himself to Moody.
"I am not aware that it is any of your business what goes on in my house--"
"I expect what you're not aware of would fill several books, Dursley," growled Moody.

(Ron and Harry just completed the Divination O.W.L. examination and are walking down the marble staircase)
"We shouldn't have taken up that stupid subject in the first place," said Harry.
"Still, at least we can give it up now."
"Yeah," said Harry. "No more pretending we care what happens when Jupiter and Uranus get too friendly..."
"And from now on, I don't care if my tea leaves spell 'die, Ron, die' -- I'm just chucking them in the bin where they belong."

"This is bizarre!" Harry heard Ron yell from somewhere behind him, and he imagined how it must feel to be speeding along at this height with no visible means of support..
Ron landed a short way away and toppled immediately off his thestral onto the pavement.
"Never again," he said, struggling to his feet. He made as though to stride away from his thestral, but, unable to see it, collided with its hindquarters and almost fell over again. "Never, ever again...that was the worst--"

"I would not go that way if I were you," said Nearly Headless Nick, drifting diconcertingly through a wall just ahead of him as he walked down the passage. "Peeves is planning an amusing joke on the next person to pass the bust of Paracelsus halfway down the corridor."
"Does it involve Paracelsus falling on top of the person's head?" asked Harry.
"Funnily enough, it does," said Nick in a bored voice. "Subtelty has never been Peeve's strong point. I'm off to try and find the Bloody Baron... He might be able to put a stop to it... See you, Harry..."

"...Little Ronnie, a prefect...Oh, I'm all of a dither!" She Mrs. Weasley gave Ron yet another kiss on the cheek, sniffed loudly, and bustled from the room Fred and George exchanged looks.
"You don't mind if we don't kiss you, do you, Ron?" said Fred in a falsely anxious voice.
"We could curtsy, if you like," said George.

"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.

"'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."

"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."

"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 I thought he liked me," Myrtle 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?"

"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!"

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?'"

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.

"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.

"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.

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 one 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."

"An Unbreakable Vow?" said Ron, looking stunned. "Nah, he can’t have... Are you sure?"
"Yes I’m sure," said Harry. "Why, what does it mean?"
"Well, you can’t break an Unbreakable Vow..."
"I’d worked that much out for myself, funnily enough."

"I thought you lived in that girls' bathroom?" said Harry, who had been careful to give the place a wide berth for some years now.
"I do," 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.

"Oh, there you are, Albus," he Slughorn said. "You've been a very long time. Upset stomach?"
"No, I was merely reading the Muggle magazines," said Dumbledore. "I do love knitting patterns."

"Very well then," said Dumbledore, pushing open the broom-shed door and stepping out into the yard. "I see a light in the kitchen. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore how thin you are."

"This is your copy of Advanced Potion-Making, is it, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry, still breathing hard.
"You're quite sure of that, are you, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry, with a touch of more defiance.
"This is the 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?"

"When we were in Diagon Alley," Harry began, but Mr. Weasley forstalled him with a grimace.
"Am I about to discover where you, Ron, and Hermione disappeared to while you were supposed to be in the back room of Fred and George's shop?"
"How did you...?"
"Harry, please. You're talking to the man who raised Fred and George."

"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."

"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!"

Why Are You Worrying about You-Know-Who?
You SHOULD Be Worrying About
U-NO-POO -
the Constipation Sensation That's Gripping the Nation!

"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.

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

"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?"

"There's a boy been in here crying?" asked Harry curiously. "A young boy?"
"Never you mind," said Myrtle, her small, leaky eyes fixed on Ron, who was now definitely grinning. "I promised I wouldn't tell anyone, and I take his secret to the-"
"-not to the grave, surely?" snorted Ron. "The sewers maybe..."

"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."

"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 'oped?" 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.

"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 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.

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!

Harry gaped at him. 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.

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

"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."

Non-verbal spells were now expected, not only in Defense 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.

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."

"Aaah, George, look at this. They're using knives and everything. Bless them."
"I'll be seventeen in two and a bit months' time," said Ron grumpily,"and then I'll be able to do it by magic!"
"But meanwhile," said George, sitting down at the kitchen table and putting his feet up on it, "We can enjoy watching you demonstrate the correct use of a - whoops-a-daisy."
"You made me do that!' said Ron angrily, sucking his cut thumb. "You wait, when I'm seventeen-"
"I'm sure you'll dazzle us with hitherto unsuspected magical skills," yawned Fred.

"That's already Harry's, idiot," said Bill (to Ron). "I got it out of your vault for you, Harry, because it's taking about five hours for the public to get their gold at the moment, the goblins have tightened security so much. Two days ago Arkie Philpott had a Probity Probe stuck up his... Well, trust me, this way's easier."

"Professor, why couldn't we just Apparate directly into your old colleague's house?"
"Because it would be quite as rude as kicking down the front door," said Dumbledore.

"Er-well-ghosts are transparent-" he said
"Oh, very good," interrupted Snape, his lip curling. "Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. Ghosts are transparent."

"...You have not asked me, for instance, what is my favorite flavor of jam, to check that I am indeed Professor Dumbledore and not an impostor."
"I didn't..." Harry began, not entirely sure whether he was being reprimanded or not.
"For future reference, Harry, it is raspberry... although of course, if I were a Death Eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam preferences before impersonating myself."

"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."

"Bill told me 'ow Fred and george are very amusing!" said Fleur, smiling serenely.
"Yes, I can hardly breathe for laughing," snapped Hermione.

"Women," Ron said wisely to Harry, "they're easily upset."
"And yet," said Hermione, coming out of her reverie, "I doubt you'd find a woman who sulked for half an hour because Madam Rosmerta didn't laugh at their joke about the hag, the Healer, and the Mimbulus mimbletonia."

He Slughorn seemed remarkably unabashed for a man who had just been discovered pretending to be an armchair.

"Madam Rosmerta's finest oak-matured mead," said Dumbledore, raising his glass to Harry, who caught hold of his own and sipped. He had never tasted anything like it before, but enjoyed it immensely.
The Dursleys, after quick, scared looks at one another, tried to ignore their glasses completely, a difficult feat, as they were nudging them gently on the sides of their heads. Harry could not suppress a suspicion that Dumbledore was rather enjoying himself.

"About You-Know-Who. He said his 'gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equallystrong bond of friendship and trust-'"
"How do you remember stuff like that?" asked Ron, looking at her in admiration.
"I listen, Ron," said Hermione, with a touch of asperity.

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."
"Ah no!" said Ron, staring horror-struck at the parchment. "Don't say I'll have to write the whole thing out again!"
"It's okay, we can fix it," said Hermione, pulling the essay toward her and taking out her wand.
"I love you, Hermione," said Ron, sinking back in his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily.
Hermione turned faintly pink, but merely said, "Don't let Lavender hear you saying that."

Dangling from the chain in large gold letters were the words: MY SWEETHEART.
"Nice," he said. "Classy. You should definitely wear it in front of Fred and George."
"If you tell them," said Ron, shoving the necklace out of sight and under his pillow, "I -- I -- I'll --"
"Stutter at me?" said Harry, grinning.

"I don't mean to be rude-- " he began, in a tone that threatened rudeness in every syllable.
"-- yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often, " Dumbledore finished the sentence gravely, "Best to say nothing at all, my dear man."

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

"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."

"Just because he's never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss he's ever had is from our Aunt Muriel-"
"Shut your mouth!" bellowed Ron, bypassing red and turning maroon.
"You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron roared, trying to get a clear shot at Ginny around Harry, who was now standingin front of her with his arms outstretched. "Just because I don't do it in public-!"
Ginny screamed with derisive laughter, trying to push Harry out of the way. "Been kissing Pigwidgeon, have you? Or have you got a picture of Aunt Muriel stashed under your pillow?"

"How do you feel Georgie?" whispered Mrs.Weasley.
George's fingers groped for the side of his head."Saintlike," he murmured.
"What's wrong with him?" croaked Fred, looking terrified. "Is his mind affected?"
"Saintlike," reapted George, opening his eyes and looking up at his nrother. "You see...I'm holy. Holey, Fred, geddit?"
Mrs.Weasley sobbed harder than ever. Color flooded Fred's pale face.
"Pathetic," he told George. "Pathetic! With the whole world of ear-related humor before you, you go for holey?"
"Ah well," said George, grinning at his tear-soaked mother. "You'll be able to tell us apart now, anyway, mum."

"The sooner this wedding's over the happier I'll be." Ron
"Yeah" said Harry, "then we'll have nothing to do except find Horcruxes...It'll be like a holiday, won't it?"

“I was awake half the night thinking it all over, and I believe it’s a plot to get the house.”
“The house?” repeated Harry. “What house?”
“This house!” shrieked Uncle Vernon, the vein in his forehead starting to pulse. “Our house! House prices are skyrocketing around here! You want us out of the way and then you’re going to do a bit of hocus-pocus and before we know it the deeds will be in your name and—“
“Are you out of your mind?” demanded Harry. “A plot to get this house? Are you actually as stupid as you look?”

“How’s Norbert doin’?”
“Norbert?” Charlie laughed. “The Norwegian Ridgeback? We call her Norberta now.”
“Wha—Norbert’s a girl?

Ron, you know full well Harry and I were brought up by Muggles!” said Hermione. “We didn’t hear stories like that when we were little, we heard ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’ and ‘Cinderella’—“
“What’s that, an illness?” asked Ron.

But before Uncle Bilius went loopy he was the life and soul of the party,” said Fred. “He used to down an entire bottle of firewhisky, then run onto the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his—“
“Yes, he sounds a real charmer,” said Hermione, while Harry roared with laughter.
“Never married, for some reason,” said Ron.

Somewhere in the distance they could hear Peeves zooming through the corridors singing a victory song of his own composition:

We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter’s the one, And Voldy’s gone moldy, so now let’s have fun!

“Really gives a feeling for the scope and tragedy of the thing, doesn’t it?” said Ron.

"What are you doing with all those books anyway?" Ron asked.
"Just trying to decide which ones to take with us," said Hermione. When we're looking for the Horcruxes."
"Oh, of course," said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I forgot we'll be hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library."

“You know how to drive, I take it?” Dedalus asked Uncle Vernon politely.
“Know how to - ? Of course I ruddy well know how to drive!” spluttered Uncle Vernon.
“Very clever of you sir, very clever, I personally would be utterly bamboozled by all those buttons and knobs,” said Dedalus.
He was clearly under the impression that he was flattering Vernon Dursley, who was visibly losing confidence in the plan with every word Dedalus spoke.

“If you think I’m going to let six people risk their lives - !”
“ – because it’s the first time for all of us,” said Ron.
“This is different, pretending to be me – ”
“Well, none of us really fancy it, Harry,” said Fred earnestly. “Imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny gits forever.”

“You can’t do it if I don’t cooperate, you need me to give you some hair.”
“Well, that’s that plan scuppered,” said George. “Obviously there’s no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate.”
“Yeah, thirteen of us against one bloke who’s not allowed to use magic; we’ve got no chance,” said Fred.

“Arthur and Fred – ”
“I’m George,” said the twin at whom Moody was pointing. “Can’t you even tell us apart when we’re Harry?”
“Sorry, George – ”
“I’m only yanking your wand, I’m Fred really – ”
“Enough messing around!” snarled Moody.

“Do ghouls normally wear pajamas?”
“No,” said Ron. “Nor have they usually got red hair or that number of pustles.”
Harry contemplated the thing, slightly revolted. It was human in shape and size, and was wearing what, now that Harry’s eyes became used to the darkness, was clearly an old pair of Ron’s pajamas. He was also sure that ghouls were generally rather slimy and bald, rather than distinctly hairy and covered in angry purple blisters.
“He’s me, see?” said Ron.
“No,” said Harry. “I don’t.”

Ron: “Sure you’re not thinking of Gorgovitch?”
Harry: “Who?”
“Dragomir Gorgovitch, Chaser, transferred to the Chudley Cannons for a record fee two years ago. Record holder for most Quaffle drops in a season.”
“No,” said Harry. “I’m definitely not thinking of Gorgovitch.
“I try not to either,” said Ron.

Hermione made purple and gold streamers erupt from the end of her wand and drape themselves artistically over the trees and bushes.
“Nice,” said Ron, as with one final flourish of her wand, Hermione turned the leaves on the crapapple tree to gold.
“You’ve really got an eye for that sort of thing.”
“Thank you, Ron!” said Hermione, looking both pleased and a little confused.
Harry turned away, smiling to himself.
He had a funny notion that he would find a chapter on compliments when he found time to peruse his copy of Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches.

“Seventeen, eh!” said Hagrid as he accepted a bucket-sized glass of wine from Fred.
“Six years to the day we met, Harry, d’yeh remember it?”
“Vaguely,” said Harry, grinning up at him. “Didn’t you smash down the front door, give Dudley a pig’s tail, and tell me I was a wizard?”
“I forge’ the details,” Hagrid chortled.

He held out his hand, and Scrimgeour leaned forward again and placed the Snitch, slowly and deliberately, into Harry’s palm.
Nothing happened. As Harry’s fingers closed around the Snitch, its tired wings fluttered and were still.
Scrimgeour, Ron, and Hermione continued to gaze avidly at the now partially concealed ball, as if still hoping it might transform in some way.
“That was dramatic,” said Harry coolly.
Both Ron and Hermione laughed.

“And as for this book,” said Hermione, “The Tales of Beedle the Bard … I’ve never even heard of them!”
“You’ve never heard of The Tales of Beetle the Bard?” said Ron incredulously. “You’re kidding, right?
“No, I’m not!” said Hermione in surprise. “Do you know them, then?”
“Well, of course I do!”
Harry looked up, diverted. The circumstance of Ron having read a book that Hermione had not was unprecedented.

Luna: “Daddy, look – one of the gnomes actually bit me!”
“How wonderful! Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial!” said Mr. Lovegood, seizing Luna’s outstretched finger and examining the bleeding puncture marks.
“Luna, my love, if you should feel any burgeoning talent today – perhaps an unexpected urge to sing opera or to declaim in Mermish – do not repress it! You may have been gifted by the Gernumblies!”

“Expec – Expecto Patronum,” said Hermione. Nothing happened.
“It’s the only spell she ever has trouble with,” Harry told a completely bemused Mrs. Cattermole. “Bit unfortunate, really.”

Hermione: “’And Death spoke to them – ’”
“Sorry,” interjected Harry, “but Death spoke to them?”
“It’s a fairy tale, Harry!
“Right, sorry. Go on.”

“Why are they all staring?” demanded Albus as he and Rose craned around to look at the other students.
“Don’t let it worry you,” said Ron. “It’s me. I’m extremely famous.”

The real Harry thought that this might just be the most bizzarre thing he had ever seen, and he had seen some extremely odd things. He watched as his six doppelgangers rummaged in the sacks, pulling out sets of clothes, putting on flasses, stuffing their own things away. He felt like asking them to show a little more respect for his privacy as they all began stripping off with impunity, clearly much more at ease with displaying his body than they would have been with their own.
"I knew Ginny was lying about that tattoo," said Ron , looking down at his bare chest.

"So that's little Scorpius,"said Ron under his breath. "Make sure you beat him in every test Rosie.Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."
"Ron for heaven's sake,"said Hermione, half stern, half amused. "Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"
"You're right, sorry," said Ron. But unable to help himself, he added "Don't get too friendly with him, though Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."

"There was the sound of pattering feet, a blaze of shining copper, an echoing clang, and a shriek of agony: Kreacher had taken a run t Mundungus and hit him over the head with a saucepan.
"Call 'im off, call 'im off, 'e should be locked up!" screamed Mundungus, cowering as Kreacher raised the heavy-bottomed pan again.
"Kreacher, no!" Shouted Harry.
Kreacher's thin arms trembled with the weight of the pan, still held aloft. "Perhaps just one more, Master Harry, for luck?"
Ron laughed.
"We need him conscious, Kreacher, but if he needs persuading you can do the honors," said HArry.
"Thank you very much, Master."

"There was a clatter as the baskilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione's arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet.
"Is this the moment?" Harry asked weakly, and the when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. "OI! There's a war going on here!"
Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other.
"I know mate," said Ron who looked as though he had recently been hit on the back of the head with a bludger, "so it's now or never, isn't it?"

When he straightened up again, there were six Harry Potters gasping and panting in front of him. Fred and George turned to each other and said together, "Wow -- We're identical!"

"Teddy's back there," James said breathlessly, pointing back over his shoulder into the billowing clouds of steam. "Just seen him! And guess what he's doing? Snogging Victoire!"
He gazed up at the adults, evidently disappointed by the lack of reaction.
"Our Teddy! Teddy Lupin! Snogging our Victoire! Our cousin! And I asked Teddy what he was doing--"
"You interrupted them?" said Ginny. "You are so like Ron--"

Harry seized the wand lying beside his camp bed, pointed it at the cluttered desk, and said, "Accio Glasses!"
Although they were only a foot away, there was something immensly satisfying about seeing them zoom toward him, at least until they poked him in the eye.
"Slick," snorted Ron.

"Well, what else can I say?" Ron shouted, and Harry was glad that Ron was fighting back.
"Oh I don't know!" yelled Hermione with awful sarcasm. "Rack your brains, Ron, that should only take a couple of seconds-"

"Our Headmaster is taking a short break," said Professor McGonagall, pointing at the Snape-shaped hole in the window.

“Look, if I picked up a sword right now, Ron, and ran you through with it, I wouldn’t damage your soul at all.”
“Which would be a real comfort to me, I’m sure,” said Ron.

--
"Rubeus Hagrid . well-known gamekeeper at Hogwarts School, has narrowly escaped arrest within the grounds of Hogwarts, where he is rumored to have hosted a 'Support Harry Potter' party in his house. However, Hagrid was not taken into custody, and is, we believe, on the run." Lupin
"I suppose it helps, when escaping from Death Eaters, if you've got a sixteen-foot-high half brother?" asked Lee.
"It would tend to give you an edge," agreed Lupin gravely.

"Mind you, if all the alleged sightings of him are genuine, we must have a good nineteen You-Know-Whos running around the place." Fred
"Which suits him, of course," said Kingsley. "The air of mystery is creating more terror than actually showing himself."
"Agreed," said Fred. "So, people, let's try and calm down a bit. Things are bad enough without inventing stuff as well. For instance, this new idea that You-Know-Who can kill with a single glance from his eyes. That's a basilisk, listeners. One simple test: Check whether the thing that's glaring at you has got legs. If it has, it's safe to look into its eyes, although if it really is You-Know-Who, that's still likely to be the last thing you ever do."

"And the rumors that he keeps being sighted abroad?" asked Lee.
"Well, who wouldn't want a nice little holiday after all the hard work he's been putting in?" asked Fred. "Point is, people, don't get lulled into a false sense of security, thinking that he's out of the country. Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to, so don't count on him being a long way away if you're planning on taking any risks. I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but safety first!"

"This girl is very nice-looking," Krum said, recalling Harry to his surroundings. Krum was pointing at Ginny, who had just joined Luna. "She is also a relative of yours?"
"Yeah," said Harry, suddenly irritated, "and she's seeing someone. Jealous type. Big bloke. You wouldn't want to cross him."

"Mum! I can't give a professor love!" James
"But you know Neville-"Ginny
James rolled his eyes.
"Outside, yeah, but at school he's Professor Longbottom, isn't he? I can't walk into Herbology and give him love.."

"You must kill me." Dumbledore
There was a long silence, broken only by an odd clicking noise.Fawkes the phoenix was gnawing a bit of cuttlebone.
"Would you like me to do it now?" asked Snape, his voice heavy with irony. "Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?"

Hermione slid out of her bunk and moved like a sleepwalker toward Ron, her eyes upon his pale face. She stopped right in front of him, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide. Ron gave a weak, hopeful smile and half raised his arms.
Hermione launched herself forward and started punching every inch of him that she could reach.
"Ouch - ow - geroff! What the - ? Hermione - OW!"
"You - complete - arse - Ronald - Weasley!"
She punctuated every word with a blow: Ron backed away, shielding his head as Hermione advanced.
"You - crawl - back - here - after - weeks - and - weeks - oh, where's my wand?"

fave ships:

HP:

dm/hp

hp/gw

gw/hg

dm/hg

hg/sb

hg/any weasley brother except percy

Twilight:

bella/edward

bella/alice

bella/rosalie

bella/rose/alice

bella/rose/alice/leah (read St. Andrew's Place by Lipsmacked...its in the collection)

nessie/jacob (read New School by Lipsmacked...also in my collection)

ENJOY!! R&R please! PM me with any questions or comments, and reviews are always greatly appreciated! you are the ones who inspire me!!