He's A Werewolf! That's Why He's Been

Ron, You Know Full Well Harry And I Were Brought Up By Muggles!” Said Hermione. “we Didn’t Hear Stories Like That When We Were Little, We Heard ‘snow White And The Seven Dwarfs’ And ‘cinderella’ —” “what’s That, An Illness?” Asked Ron.

You Know, I Don’t Get Why Fred And George Only Got Three O.w.l.s Each,” Said Harry, Watching As Fred, George, And Lee Collected Gold From The Eager Crowd. “they Really Know Their Stuff. . . .” “oh, They Only Know Flashy Stuff That’s No Real Use To Anyone,” Said Hermione Disparagingly. “no Real Use?” Said Ron In A Strained Voice. “hermione, They’ve Got About Twenty-six Galleons Already. . . .

Potter! There Are Hundreds Of People Thundering Through My Pub!

Jealous?...of What? I Don't Want A Foul Scar Right Across My Head, Thanks. I Don't Think Getting Your Head Cut Open Makes You That Special, Myself.

Ah! Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans! I Was Unfortunate Enough In My Youth To Come Across A Vomit-flavored One, And Since Then I’m Afraid I’ve Rather Lost My Liking For Them — But I Think I’ll Be Safe With A Nice Toffee, Don’t You?” He Smiled And Popped The Golden-brown Bean Into His Mouth. “alas! Ear Wax!