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Chapter 10, p.188
"Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each House," said Hermione, looking thoroughly disgruntled as she took her seat. "Boy and girl from each."
"And guess who’s Slytherin prefect?" said Ron, still with his eyes closed.
"Malfoy," replied Harry, his worst fear confirmed.
"Course," said Ron bitterly, stuffing the rest of the frog into his mouth and taking another.
"And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson," said Hermione viciously. "How she got to be a prefect when she’s thicker than a concussed troll..."

~

Chapter 10, p.194
Harry looked around; he had expected this, but that did not make the sight of Draco Malfoy smirking at him from between his cronies Crabbe and Goyle any more enjoyable.
"What?"
"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," drawled Malfoy, whose sleek blond hair and pointed chin were just like his father's. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."
"Yeah," said Harry, "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."
Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville laughed. Malfoy's lip curled.
"Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?" he asked.
"Shut up, Malfoy," said Hermione sharply.
"I seem to have touched a nerve," said Malfoy, smirking. "Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line."
"Get out!" said Hermione, standing up.
Sniggering, Malfoy gave Harry a last malicious look and departed, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering in his wake. Hermione slammed the compartment door behind them and turned to look at Harry, who knew at once that she, like him, had registered what Malfoy had said and been just as unnerved by it.

~

Chapter 10, p.197
"Where’s Pig?" said Ron’s voice, right behind Harry.
"That Luna girl was carrying him," said Harry, turning quickly, eager to consult Ron about Hagrid. "Where’d you reckon...'
A short distance away, Draco Malfoy, followed by a small gang of cronies including Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, was pushing some timid-looking second years out of the way so that they could get a coach to themselves. Seconds later Hermione emerged panting from the crowd.
"Malfoy was being absolutely foul to a first year back there, I swear I’m going to report him, he’s only had his badge three minutes and he’s using it to bully people worse than ever…Where’s Crookshanks?”

~

Chapter 12, p.223
"The point," Hermione pressed on loudly, "is that this sort of thing is exactly what Dumbledore was talking about. You-Know-Who’s only been back two months, and we’ve started fighting among ourselves. And the Sorting Hat’s warning was the same – stand together – be united –"
"And Harry said it last night," retorted Ron, "if that means we’re supposed to get matey with the Slytherins, fat chance."
"Well, I think it’s a pity we’re not trying for a bit of inter-House unity," said Hermione crossly.

~

Chapter 13, p.258
"Everyone here?" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, once all the Slytherins and Gryffindors had arrived. "Let's crack on then - who can tell me what these things are called?"
She indicated the heap of twigs in front of her. Hermione's hand shot into the air. Behind her back, Malfoy did a buck-toothed imitation of her jumping up and down in eagerness to answer a question. Pansy Parkinson gave a shriek of laughter that turned almost at once into a scream, as the twigs on the table leapt into the air and revealed themselves to be what looked like tiny pixieish creatures made of wood, each with knobbly brown arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand, and a funny, flat, barklike face in which a pair of beetle-brown eyes glittered.

~

Chapter 16, p.334-335
"I suppose he was cheecking for the smell of Dungbombs," sai Harr with a small laugh. "I forgot to tell you..."
And he recounted the story of sending his leatter to Sirius and Filch busting in seconds later, demanding to see the letter. To his slight surprise, Hermione found this story highly interesting, much more, indeed than he did himself.
"He said he was tipped off you were ordering Dungbombs? But who had tipped him off?"
"I dunno," said Harry, shrugging. "Maybe Malfoy, he'd think it was a laugh."
"Malfoy?" said Hermione, sceptically. "Well… yes… maybe…"
And she remained deep in thought all the way into the outskirts of Hogsmeade.
"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked. "The Three Broomsticks?"
"Oh - no," said Hermione, coming out of her reverie..

~

Chapter 26, p.574-575
"That's the trouble with Quidditch," said Hermione absentmindedly, once again bent over her Rune translation, "it creates all this bad feeling and tension between the Houses."
She looked up to find her copy of Spellman's Syllabary and caught Fred, George, and Harry looking at her with expresssions of mingled disgust and incredulity on their faces.
"Well, it does!" she said impatiently. "It's only a game, isn't it?"
"Hermione," said Harry, shaking his head, "you're good on feelings and stuff, but you just don't understand about Quidditch."
"Maybe not," she said darkly, returning to her translation again, "but at least my happiness doesn't depend of Ron's goalkeeping ability."

~


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