Harry dropped the hair into the mudlike liquid. The moment it made contact with its surface, the potion began to froth and smoke, then, all at once, it turned into a clear, bright gold.
“Ooh, you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry,” said Hermione, before catching sight of Ron’s raised eyebrows, blushing slightly, and saying, “Oh, you know what I mean — Goyle’s potion looked like bogies.”
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – J.K. Rowling
“No!” he said loudly, his voice ringing through the kitchen. “No way!”
“I told them you’d take it like this,” said Hermione with a hint of complacency.
“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.”
Harry did not smile.
“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.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – J.K. Rowling
“We’ll be there, Harry,” said Ron.
“What?”
“At your aunt and uncle’s house,” said Ron. “And then we’ll go with you wherever you’re going.”
“No —” said Harry quickly; he had not counted on this, he had meant them to understand that he was undertaking this most dangerous journey alone.
“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?”
“We’re with you whatever happens,” said Ron.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince – J.K. Rowling
“Of course, it doesn’t matter how he looks. . . . It’s not r-really important . . . but he was a very handsome little b-boy . . . always very handsome . . . and he was g-going to be married!”
“And what do you mean by zat?” said Fleur suddenly and loudly. “What do you mean, ‘’e was going to be married?”
Mrs. Weasley raised her tear-stained face, looking startled. “Well — only that —”
“You theenk Bill will not wish to marry me anymore?” demanded Fleur. “You theenk, because of these bites, he will not love me?”
“No, that’s not what I —”
“Because ’e will!” said Fleur, drawing herself up to her full height and throwing back her long mane of silver hair. “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! All these scars show is zat my husband is brave! And I shall do zat!” she added fiercely, pushing Mrs. Weasley aside and snatching the ointment from her.
Mrs. Weasley fell back against her husband and watched Fleur mopping up Bill’s wounds with a most curious expression upon her face. Nobody said anything; Harry did not dare move. Like everybody else, he was waiting for the explosion.
“Our Great-Auntie Muriel,” said Mrs. Weasley after a long pause, “has a very beautiful tiara — goblin- made — which I am sure I could persuade her to lend you for the wedding. She is very fond of Bill, you know, and it would look lovely with your hair.”
“Thank you,” said Fleur stiffly. “I am sure zat will be lovely.”
And then, Harry did not quite see how it happened, both women were crying and hugging each other. Completely bewildered, wondering whether the world had gone mad, he turned around: Ron looked as stunned as he felt and Ginny and Hermione were exchanging startled looks.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince – J.K. Rowling
“Listen, Hermione, I can tell it’s not a girl. I can just tell.”
“The truth is that you don’t think a girl would have been clever enough,” said Hermione angrily.
“How can I have hung round with you for five years and not think girls are clever?” said Harry, stung by this.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince – J.K. Rowling
“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’d 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.”Ron scowled as Hermione rolled around laughing.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince – J.K. Rowling
Harry looked around; there was Ginny running toward 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 long 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 they looked at each other, then Ron gave a tiny jerk of the head that Harry understood to mean, Well — if you must.
The creature in his chest roaring in triumph, he grinned down at Ginny and gestured wordlessly out of the portrait hole. A long walk in the grounds seemed indicated, during which — if they had time — they might discuss the match.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince – J.K. Rowling
“Well, here goes,” said Harry, and he raised the little bottle and took a carefully measured gulp.
“What does it feel like?” whispered Hermione.
Harry did not answer for a moment. Then, slowly but surely, an exhilarating sense of infinite opportunity stole through him; he felt as though he could have done anything, anything at all . . . and getting the memory from Slughorn seemed suddenly not only possible, but positively easy. . . .
He got to his feet, smiling, brimming with confidence.
“Excellent,” he said. “Really excellent. Right . . . I’m going down to Hagrid’s.”
“What?” said Ron and Hermione together, looking aghast.
“No, Harry — you’ve got to go and see Slughorn, remember?” said Hermione.
“No,” said Harry confidently. “I’m going to Hagrid’s, I’ve got a good feeling about going to Hagrid’s.”
“You’ve got a good feeling about burying a giant spider?” asked Ron, looking stunned.
“Yeah,” said Harry, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag. “I feel like it’s the place to be tonight, you know what I mean?”
“No,” said Ron and Hermione together, both looking positively alarmed now.“This is Felix Felicis, I suppose?” said Hermione anxiously, holding up the bottle to the light. “You haven’t got another little bottle full of — I don’t know —”
“Essence of Insanity?” suggest Ron, as Harry swung his cloak over his shoulders.Harry laughed, and Ron and Hermione looked even more alarmed.
“Trust me,” he said. “I know what I’m doing . . . or at least” — he strolled confidently to the door — “Felix does.”
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince – J.K. Rowling
“Goes back to what I said, doesn’t it?” said Ron, who was now shoveling mashed potato into his mouth. “She’s gone a bit funny. Lost her nerve. Women,” he 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.”Ron scowled.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince – J.K. Rowling
“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 with 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.
Hermion turned faintly pink, but merely said, “Don’t let Lavender hear you saying that.”
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince – J.K. Rowling
The Love Pirate 