“Oh Harry, don’t you see? If she could have done one thing to make absolutely sure that every single person in this school will read your interview, it was banning it!”

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.”

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!”

“Just because you’ve got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn’t mean we all have.”

“Just because it’s taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn’t mean no one else has spotted I’m a girl!”

“The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice.
Hermione snorted.
“Well honestly… ‘the fates have informed her’… Who sets the exam? She does!”

“Twitchy little ferret, aren’t you, Malfoy?”

“Malfoy’s got detention! I could sing.”

“Are you sure that’s a real spell? Well, it’s not very good is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells myself and they’ve all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, it’s the best school of witchcraft there is I’ve heard – I’ve learned all the course books by heart of course. I just hope it will be enough – I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”

“I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed – or worse, expelled. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.”

“It matters because being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That’s why the symbol for Slytherin house is a serpent.”

“Ron,” said Hermione in a dignified voice, “you are the most insensitive wart I have ever had the misfortune to meet.”

“At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent.”

“Please, Professor McGonagall–they were looking for me.”
“Miss Granger!”
Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last. “I went looking for the troll because I–I thought I could deal with it on my own–you know, because I’ve read all about them.”

“Harry–you’re a great wizard, you know.”
“I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let him go.
“Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things–friendship and bravery and–oh Harry–be careful!”

“There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors–someone said you’d been expelled for crashing a flying car–”
“Well, we haven’t been expelled,” Harry assured her.
“You’re not telling me you did fly here?” said Hermione, sounding almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.
“Skip the lecture,” said Ron impatiently, “and tell us the new password.”
“It’s ‘wattlebird,’” said Hermione impatiently, “but that’s not the point–”

“Harry, you’d better beat him in the Quidditch final!” Hermione said shrilly. “You’d just better had, because I can’t stand it if Slytherin wins!”

“Grawp’s about sixteen feet tall, enjoys ripping up twenty-foot pine trees, and knows me,” she snorted, “as Hermy.”

“You said to us once before,” said Hermione quietly, “that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We’ve had time, haven’t we?”

“You-complete-arse-Ronald-Weasley!”

“I will not calm down!”

“Imagine losing fingernails, Harry! That really puts our sufferings into perspective, doesn’t it?”