H E R M I O N E   G R A N G E R

O r d e r   o f   t h e   P h o e n i x   Q u o t e s

Chapter 4, p.76
"Hermione still hasn't given up on spew -"
"It's not 'spew'!" said Hermione heatedly. It's the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, and it's not just me, Dumbledore says we should be kind to Kreacher too –"
"Yeah, yeah," said Ron. "C'mon, I'm starving."

~

Chapter 9, p.159
"I feel like a house-elf," grumbled Ron.
"Well, now that you understand what dreadful lives they lead, perhaps you'll be a bit more active in S.P.E.W.!" said Hermione hopefully as Mrs. Weasley left them to it again. "You know, maybe it wouldn't be bad idea to show people exactly how horrible it is to clean all the time - we could do a sponsored scrub of Gryffindor common room, all proceeds to S.P.E.W., it would raise awareness as well as funds –"
"I'll sponsor you to shut up about spew," Ron muttered irritably, but only so Harry could hear him.

~

Chapter 9, p.162
"Ron's prefect, not me," Harry said.
"Ron?" said Hermione, her jaw dropping. "But...are you sure? I mean -"
She turned red as Ron looked around at her with a defiant expression on his face.
"It's my name on the letter," he said.
"I..." said Hermione, looking thoroughly bewildered. "I...well...wow! Well done, Ron! That's really -"
"Unexpected," said George, nodding.
"No," said Hemione, blushing hareder than ever, "no it's not...Ron's done loads of...he's really..."

~

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.193-194
"Anything good in there?" asked Ron as Harry closed the magazine.
"Of course not," said Hermione scathingly, before harry could answer, "The Quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that."
"Excuse me," said Luna; her voice has suddenly lost its dreamy quality. "My father's the editor."
"I - oh," said Hermione, looking embarrassed. "Well... it's got some interesting... I mean, it's quite..."
"I'll have it back, thank you," said Luna coldly, and leaning forward she snatched it out of Harry's hands. Rifling through it to page fifty-seven she turned it resolutely upside down again and disappeared behind it, just as the compartment door opened for the third time.
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 11, p.209-210
"And it wants all the Houses to be friends?" said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was holding court. "Fat chance."
"Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude," said Nick reprovingly. "Peaceful cooperation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate Houses, maintain links of friendship. in spite of the competitiveness between gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking and argument with Bloody Baron."
"Only because you're terrified of him," said Ron.
Nearly Headless Nick looked highly affronted.
"Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins -"
"What blood?" asked Ron. "Surely you haven't still got -?"
"It was a figure of speech!" said Nearly Headless Nick, now so annoyed his head was trembling ominously on his partially severed neck. "I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures of eating and drinking are denied me! but I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!"
"Nick, he wasn't really laughing at you!" said Hermione, throwing a furious look at Ron.
Unfortunately, Ron's mouth was packed to exploding point again and all he could manage was "node iddum eentup sechew." which nick did not seem to think constituted an adequate apology. Rising into the air he straightened his feathered hat and swept away from them to the other end of the table, coming to rest between the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis.
"Well done, Ron," snapped Hermione.
"What?" said Ron, indignantly, having managed, finally, to swallow his food. "I'm not allowed to ask a simple question?"
"Oh forget it," said Hermione irritably, and the pair of them spent the rest of the meal in huffy silence.

~


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