(After the first years' sorting)
"Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?" said Ron. His mouth was so full Harry thought is was quite an achievement for him to make any noise at all.
"I beg your pardon?" said Nearly Headless Nick politely, while Hermione looked revolted. Ron gave an enormous swallow and said, "How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a hat?" --Submitted by hpluvrannie

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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."

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"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.

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"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?"

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"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?"

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(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.

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"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.

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"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.

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"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.

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"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."

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"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.

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"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."

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"- 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..."

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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!"

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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.

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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.

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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.

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"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.

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"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.

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"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."

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"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.

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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."

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"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."

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"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."

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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.

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"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.

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"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...."

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"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.

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"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."

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"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..."

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"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.

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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..."

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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."

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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.

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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."

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"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.

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

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"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..."

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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.

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"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."

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"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."

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"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.

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"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?"

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"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.

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"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.

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"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.

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"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?"

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"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.

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"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.

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(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."

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"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---"

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"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.