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Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Quotes

Ron tripped dazedly toward Harry and Hermione.
"You're okay," he mumbled, before Hermione flew at him and hugged him tightly.
"I thought - I thought -"
"'M all right," said Ron, patting her on the back. "'M fine."
"Ron was great," said Tonks warmly, reliquishing her hold on Lupin. "Wonderful. Stunned one of the Death Eaters, straight to the head, and when you're aiming at a moving target from a flying broom -"
"You did?" said Hermione, gazing up at Ron with her arms still around his neck.
"Always the tone of surprise," he said a little grumpily, breaking free.

"Don't!" squealed Hermione. Startled, Harry looked over just in time to see her burst into tears over her copy of Spellman's Syllabary.
"Oh no," said Harry, struggling to get up from the old camp bed. "Hermione, I wasn't trying to upset -"
But with a great creaking of rusty bedsprings, Ron bounded off the bed and got there first. One arm around Hermione, he fished in his jeans pocket and withdrew a revolting-looking handkerchief that he had used to clean out the oven earlier. Hastily pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the rag and said, "Tergeo."
The wand siphoned off most of the grease. Looking rather pleased with himself, Ron handed the slightly smoking handkerchief to Hermione.
"Oh... thanks, Ron... I'm sorry..." She blew her nose and hiccuped. "It's just so awful, isn't it? R-right after Dumbledore... I j-just never imagined Mad-Eye dying, somehow, he seemed so tough!"
"Yeah, I know," said Ron, giving her a squeeze. "But you know what he'd say to us if he was here?"
"'C-constant vigilance,'" said Hermione, mopping her eyes.
"That's right," said Ron, nodding. "He'd tell us to learn from what happened to him. And what I've learned is not to trust that cowardly little squit, Mundungus."
Hermione gave a shaky laugh and leaned forward to pick up two more books.

Hermione's eyes were swimming with tears again. Ron got back off the bed, put his arm around her once more, and frowned at Harry as though reproaching hm for lack of tact.

"This isn't your average book," said Ron. "It's pure gold: Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. Explains everything you need to know about girls. If only I'd had this last year I'd have known exactly how to get rid of Lavender and I would've known how to get going with... Well, Fred and George gave me a copy, and I've learned a lot. You'd be surprised, it's not all about wandwork, either."

"Happy birthday, Harry!" said Hermione, hurrying into the kitchen and adding her own present to the top of the pile. "It's not much, but I hope you like it. What did you get him?" she added to Ron, who seemed not to hear her.
"Come on, then, open Hermione's!" said Ron.

"I'll pack these for you," Hermione said brightly, taking Harry's presents out of his arms as the three of them headed back upstairs. "I'm nearly done, I'm just waiting for the rest of your underpants to come out of the wash, Ron -"
Ron's splutter was interrupted by the opening of a door on the first-floor landing.

Hermione made purple and gold streamers erupt from the end of her wand and drape themselves artistically over the trees and bushes.
"Nice," said Ron, as with one final flourish of her wand, Hermione turned the leaves on the crabapple tree to gold. "You've really got an eye for that sort of thing."
"Thank you, Ron!" said Hermione, looking both pleased and a little confused.

"Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?" asked Scrimgeour.
"No, I'm not," retorted Hermione. "I'm hoping to do some good in the world!"
Ron laughed.

She suppressed a sob. They were wedged together so tightly that Ron had difficulty extracting his arm to put it around Hermione's shoulders.

"... Wow," he added, blinking rather rapidly as Hermione came hurrying toward them. "You look great!"
"Always the tone of surprise," said Hermione, though she smiled.

"But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party," said Fred. "He used to down an entire bottle of firewhiskey, then run onto the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his -"
"Yes, he sounds like a real charmer," said Hermione, while Harry roared with laughter.
"He never married, for some reason," said Ron.
"You amaze me," said Hermione.

Hermione looked pleasurably flustered, but this time Krum had not come to compliment her. With a scowl on his face he said, "Who is that man in the yellow?"
"That's Xenophilius Lovegood, he's the father of a friend of ours," said Ron. His pugnacious tone indicated that they were not about to laugh at Xenophilius, despite the clear provocation. "Come and dance," he added abruptly to Hermione.
She looked taken aback, but pleased too, and got up. They vanished together into the growing throng on the dance floor.
"Ah, they are together now?" asked Krum, momentarily distracted.
"Er - sort of," said Harry.

"You're amazing, you are," said Ron, handing her his bundled up robes.
"Thank you," said Hermione, managing a small smile as she pushed the robes into the bags.

"D-diffindo," she said, pointng her wand at Ron, who roared in pain as she slashed open the knee of his jeans, leaving a deep cut. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Ron, my hand's shaking! Diffindo!"

Ron struggled for a moment before managing to extract his wand from his pocket.
"It's no wonder I can't get it out, Hermione, you packed my old jeans, they're tight."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," hissed Hermione, and as she dragged the waitress out of sight of the windows, Harry heard her mutter a suggestion as to where Ron could stick his wand instead.

"That... that was..." Hermione whimpered, as Ron helped her to her feet.

"Before we go any farther, I think we'd better check," whispered Hermione, and she raised her wand and said, "Homenum revelio."
Nothing happened.
"Well, you've just had a big shock," said Ron kindly. "What was that supposed to do?"
"It did what I meant it do to!" said Hermione rather crossly.

"Family safe, do not reply, we are being watched."
The Patronus dissolved into nothingness. Ron let out a noise between a whimper and a groan and dropped onto the sofa: Hermione joined him, gripping his arm.
"They're all right, they're all right!" she whispered, and Ron half laughed and hugged her.

Harry glanced over at the dark shapes they made on the floor beside him. Ron had a fit of gallantry and insisted that Hermione sleep on the cushions from the sofa, so that her silhouette was raised above his. Her arm curved to the floor, her finger's inches from Ron's. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands.

Ron glanced at Hermione, then said, "What if purebloods and half-bloods swear a Muggle-born's part of their family? I'll tell everyone Hermione's my cousin -"
Hermione covered Ron's hand with hers and squeezed it.
"Thank you, Ron, but I couldn't let you -"
"You won't have a choice," said Ron fiercely, gripping her hand back. "I'll teach you my family tree so you can answer questions on it."

"Don't look at me like that!" he snapped at Hermione.
"Don't you start on her!" snarled Ron.

"'Merlin's pants'?" repeated Ron, looking amused. "She must be upset."

"Snape could send Phineas Nigellus to look inside this house for him," Hermione explained to Ron as she resumed her seat. "But let him try it now, all Phineas Nigellus will be able to see is the inside of my handbag."
"Good thinking!" said Ron, looking impressed.
"Thank you," smiled Hermione, pulling her soup toward her.

"Nicely done, Hermione," said Ron, emerging from behind a bin beside the theater door as Harry took off the inivisibility cloak.

"Respect?" Harry repeated, but Hermione shot him a warning look; apparently he was not to argue with Ron while the latter was in such a weakened condition.

Hermione was watching Ron fret over the fate of the Cameroles, and there was such tenderness in her expression that Harry felt as if he had surprised her in the act of kissing him.

"It's not stealing, is it?" asked Hermione in a troubled voice, as they devoured scrambled eggs and toast. "Not if I left some money under the chicken coop?"
Ron rolled his eyes and said, with his cheeks bulging, "Er-my-nee, 'oo worry 'oo much. 'Elax!"

Ron wrenched the chain from over his head and cast the locket into a nearby chair. He turned to Hermione.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?
"Are you staying, or what?"
"I..." She looked anguished. "Yes - yes, I'm staying. Ron, we said we'd go with Harry, we said we'd help -"
"I get it. You choose him."
"Ron, no - please - come back, come back!"
She was impeded by her own Shield Charm; by the time she had removed it, he had already stormed into the night. Harry stood quite still and silent, listening to her sobbing and calling Ron's name amongst the trees.
After a few minutes she returned, her sopping hair plastered to her face.
"He's g-g-gone! Disapparated!"
She threw herself into a chair, curled up, and started to cry.

Harry knew why she wanted to spin out their time on the riverbank: several times he saw her look up eagerly, and he was sure she had deluded herself into thinking that she heard footsteps through the heavy rain, but no red-haired figure appeared between the trees.

The instant they arrived, Hermione dropped Harry's hand and walked away from him, finally sitting down on a large rock, her face on her knees, shaking with what he knew were sobs.

They did not discuss Ron at all over the next few days. Harry was determined never to mention his name again, and Hermione seemed to know that it was no use forcing the issue, although sometimes at night when she thought he was sleeping, he would hear her crying.

Then a voice hissed from out of the Horcrux.
"I have seen your heart, and it is mine."
"Don't listen to it!" Harry said harshly. "Stab it!"
"I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears. All you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible..."
"Stab!" shouted Harry; his voice echoed off the surrounding trees, the sword point trembled, and Ron gazed down into Riddle's eyes.
"Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter... Least loved, now, by the girl who prefers your friend... Second best, always, eternally overshadowed..."
"Ron, stab it now!" Harry bellowed; He could feel the locket quivering in his grip and was scared of what was coming. Ron raised the sword still higher, and as he did so, Riddle's eyes gleamed scarlet.
Out of the locket's two windows, out of the eyes, there bloomed two grotesque bubbles, the heads of Harry and Hermione, wierdly distorted.
Ron yelled in shock and backed away as the figures blossomed out of the locket, first chests, then waists, then legs, until they stood in the locket, side by side like trees with a common root, swaying over Ron and the real Harry, who had snatched his fingers away from the locket as it burned, suddenly, white-hot.
"Ron!" he shouted, but the Riddle-Harry was now speaking with Voldemort's voice and Ron was gazing, mesmerized, into its face.
"Why return? We were better without you, happier without you, glad of your absence... We laughed at your stupidity, your cowardice, your presumption -"
"Presumption!" echoed the Riddle-Hermione, who was more beautiful and yet more terrible than the real Hermione: She swayed, cackling, before Ron, who looked horrified yet transfixed, the sword hanging pointlessly at his side. "Who could look at you, who would ever look at you, beside Harry Potter? What have you ever done, compared with the Chosen One? What are you, compared with the Boy Who Lived?"
"Ron, stab it, STAB IT!" Harry yelled, but Ron did not move: His eyes were wide, and the Riddle-Harry and Riddle-Hermione were reflected in them, their hair swirling like flames, their eyes shining red, their voices lifted in an evil duet.
"Your mother confessed," sneered Riddle-Harry, while Riddle-Hermione jeered, "that she would have preferred me as a son, would be glad to exchange..."
"Who wouldn't prefer him, what woman would take you, you are nothing, nothing, nothing to him," crooned Riddle-Hermione, and she stretched like a snake and entwined herself around Riddle-Harry, wrapping him in a close embrace: Their lips met.
On the ground in front of them, Ron's face filled with anguish. He raised the sword high, his arms shaking.
"Do it, Ron!" Harry yelled.
Ron looked toward him, and Harry thought he saw a trace of scarlet in his eyes.
"Ron -?"
The sword flashed, plunged: Harry threw himself out of the way, there was a clang of metal and a long, drawn-out scream. Harry whirled around, slipping in the snow, wand held ready to defend himself: but there was nothing to fight.
The monstrous versions of himself and Hermione were gone: There was only Ron, standing there with the sword held slackly in his hand, looking down at the shattered remains of the locket on the flat rock.
Slowly, Harry walked back to him, hardly knowing what to say or do. Ron was breathing heavily: His eyes were no longer red at all, but their normal blue; they were also wet.
Harry stooped, pretending he had not seen, and picked up the broken Horcrux. Ron had pierced the glass in both windows: Riddle's eyes were gone, and the stained silk lining of the locket was smoking slightly. The thing that had lived in the Horcrux had vanished; torturing Ron had been its final act.
The sword clanged as Ron dropped it. He had sunk to his knees, his head in his arms. He was shaking, but not, Harry realized, from cold. Harry crammed the broken locket into his pocket, knelt down beside Ron, and placed a hand cautiously on his shoulder. He took it as a good sign that Ron did not throw it off.
"After you left," he said in a low voice, grateful for the fact that Ron's face was hidden, "she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn't want me to see. There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. With you gone..."
He could not finish it; it was only now that Ron was here again that Harry fully realized how much his absence had cost them.
"She's like my sister," he went on. "I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It's always been like that. I thought you knew."

She saw Ron, who stood there holding the sword and dripping onto the threadbare carpet. Harry backed into a shadowy corner, slipped off Ron's rucksack, and attempted to blend in with the canvas.
Hermione slid out of her bunk and moved like a sleepwalker toward Ron, her eyes upon his pale face. She stopped right in front of him, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide. Ron gave a weak, hopeful smile and half raised his arms.
Hermione launched herself forward and started punching every inch of him that she could reach.
"Ouch - ow - gerroff! What the -? Hermione - OW!"
"You - complete - arse - Ronald - Weasley!"
She punctuated every word with a blow: Ron backed away, shielding his head as Hermione advanced.
"You - crawl - back - here - after - weeks - and - weeks - oh, where's my wand?"
She looked as though ready to wrestle it out of Harry's hands and he reacted instictively.
"Protego!"
The invisible shield erupted between Ron and Hermione: The force of it knocked her backward onto the floor. Spitting hair out of her mouth, she leapt up again.
"Hermione!" Harry said. "Calm -"
"I will not calm down!" she screamed. Never before had he seen her lose control like this; she looked quite demented. "Give me back my wand! Give it to me!"
"Hermione, will you please -"
"Don't you tell me what to do, Harry Potter!" she screeched. "Don't you dare! Give it back now! And YOU!"
She was pointing at Ron in dire accusation: It was like a malediction, and Harry could not blame Ron for retreating several steps.
"I came running after you! I called you! I begged you to come back!"
"I know," Ron said, "Hermione, I'm sorry, I'm really -"
"Oh, you're sorry!"
She laughed, a high pitched, out-of-control sound; Ron looked at Harry for help, but Harry merely grimaced his helplessness.
"You come back after weeks - weeks - and you think it's all going to be all right if you say sorry?"
"Well, what else can I say?" Ron shouted, and Harry was glad that Ron was fighting back.
"Oh, I don't know!" yelled Hermione with awful sarcasm. "Rack your brains, Ron, that should only take a couple of seconds -"
"Hermione," interjected Harry, who considered this a lot blow, "he just saved my -"
"I don't care!" she screamed. "I don't care what he's done! Weeks and weeks, we could have been dead for all he knew -"
"I knew you weren't dead!" bellowed Ron, drowning her voice for the first time, and approaching as close as he could with the Shield Charm between them. "Harry's all over the Prophet, all over the radio, they're looking for you everywhere, all these rumors and mental stories, I knew I'd hear straight off if you were dead, you don't know what it's been like -"
"What it's been like for you?"
Her voice was now so shrill only bats would be able to hear it soon, but she had reached a level of indignation that rendered her temporarily speechless, and Ron seized his opportunity.
"I wanted to come back the minute I'd Disapparated, but I walked straight into a gang of Snatchers, Hermione, and I couldn't go anywhere!"

"One thing I would like to know, though," she said, fixing her eyes on a spot a foot over Ron's head. "How exactly did you find us tonight? That's important. Once we know, we'll be able to make sure we're not visited by anyone else we don't want to see."
Ron glared at her, then pulled a small silver object from his jeans pocket.

"But I was listening to the radio really early on Christmas morning and I heard... I heard you."
He was looking at Hermione.

Hermione put the vanquished Horcrux into the beaded bag, then climbed back into her bed and settled down without another word.
Ron passed Harry the new wand.
"About the best you could hope for, I think," murmured Harry.
"Yeah," said Ron. "Could've been worse. Remember those birds she set on me?"
"I still haven't ruled it out," came Hermione's muffled voice from beneath her blankets, but Harry saw Ron smiling slightly as he pulled his maroon pajamas out of his rucksack.

Finally Hermione climbed down from her bunk. Ron ceased his tapping at once.
"If it's annoying you, I'll stop!" he told Hermione nervously.

"The Deluminator turned out to be pretty useful," piped up Ron. "I think Hermione's right, I think we ought to go and see Lovegood."
Harry threw him a dark look. He was quite sure that Ron's support of Hermione had little to do with a desire to know the meaning of the triangular rune.

"I think we should vote on it," said Ron. "Those in favor of going to see Lovegood -"
His hand flew into the air before Hermione's. Her lips quivered suspiciously as she raised her own.

When Hermione returned to her bunk, Harry lowered his voice.
"You only agreed to try and get back in her good books."
"All's fair in love and war," said Ron brightly, "and this is a bit of both."

"You're a genius," Ron repeated, looking awed.

She appealed to Ron.
"You don't believe in this, do you?"
Harry looked up. Ron hesitated.
"I dunno... I mean... bits of it sort of fit together," said Ron awkwardly. "But when you look at the whole thing..." He took a deep breath. "I think we're supposed to get rid of Horcruxes, Harry. That's what Dumbledore told us to do. Maybe... maybe we should forget about this Hallows business."
"Thank you, Ron," said Hermione. "I'll take first watch."

"Get - off - her!" Ron shouted. There was the unmistakable sound of knuckles hitting flesh: Ron grunted in pain and Hermione screamed, "No! Leave him alone, leave him alone!"
"Your boyfriend's going to have worse than that done to him if he's on my list," said the horribly familiar, rasping voice.

"Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback."
"Wait," said Bellatrix sharply. "All except... except for the Mudblood."
Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure.
"No!" shouted Ron. "You can have me, keep me!"
Bellatrix hit him across the face; the blow echoed around the room.
"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next," she said.

"Reckon she'll let me have a bit of the girl when she's finished with her?" Greyback crooned as he forced them along the corridor. "I'd say I'll get a bite or two, wouldn't you, ginger?"
Harry could feel Ron shaking.

The echoing bang of the slammed cellar door had not died away before there was a terrible, drawn-out scream from directly above them.
"HERMIONE!" Ron bellowed, and he started to writhe and struggle against the ropes tying them together, so that Harry staggered. "HERMIONE!"
"Be quiet!" Harry said. "Shut up, Ron, we need to work out a way -"
"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

Hermione screamed again from overhead, and they could hear Bellatrix screaming too, but her words were inaudible, for Ron shouted again, "HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?"
"We found it - we found it - PLEASE!" Hermione screamed again: Ron struggled harder than ever, and the rusty nail slipped onto Harry's wrist.

From above came Bellatrix's voice.
"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"
Another terrible scream -
"HERMIONE!"
"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"
"There!"
Harry felt the ropes fall away and turned, rubbing his wrists, to see Ron running around the cellar, looking up at the low ceiling, searching for a trapdoor.

"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"
Hermione's screams echoed off the walls upstairs, Ron was half sobbing as he pounded the walls with his fists [...]

He tilted the shard of mirror this way and that, and saw nothing reflected there but the walls and ceiling of their prison, and upstairs Hermione was screaming worse than ever, and next to him Ron was bellowing, "HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

"And I think," said Bellatrix's voice, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Ron had burst into the drawing room; Bellatrix looked around, shocked; she turned her wand to face Ron instead -

Hermione was wrapped in a borrowed dressing gown, pale and unsteady on her feet; Ron put an arm around her when she reached him.

Hermione gave a weak smile as Ron gave her a one-armed squeeze.

Griphook gave a nasty laugh.
"But it is, it is about precisely that! As the Dark Lord becomes even more powerful, your race is set still more firmly above mine! Gringotts falls under Wizarding rule, house-elves are slaughtered, and who amongst the wand-carriers protests?"
"We do!" said Hermione. She had sat up straight, her eyes bright. "We protest! And I'm hunted quite as much as any goblin or elf, Griphook! I'm a Mudblood!"
"Don't call yourself -" Ron muttered.
"Why shouldn't I?" said Hermione. "Mudblood, and proud of it! I've got no higher position under this new order than you have, Griphook! It was me they chose to torture, back at the Malfoys!"

The little color she had regained since their arrival had drained from her face. Ron gave Harry a reproachful look, and said, "Let's not worry about that now -"

And then he skidded around a final corner and with a yell of mingled relief and fury he saw them: Ron and Hermione, both with their arms full of large, curved, dirty yellow objects, Ron with a broomstick under his arm.
"Where the hell have you been?" Harry shouted.
"Chamber of Secrets," said Ron.
"Chamber - what?" said Harry, coming to an unsteady halt before them.
"It was Ron, all Ron's idea!" said Hermione breathlessly. "Wasn't it absolutely brilliant? There we were, after you left, and I said to Ron, even if we find the other one, how are we going to get rid of it? We still hadn't got rid of the cup! And then he thought of it! The basilisk!"
"What the -?"
"Something to get rid of Horcruxes," said Ron simply.
Harry's eyes dropped to the objects clutched in Ron and Hermione's arms; great curved fangs, torn, he now realized, from the skull of a dead basilisk.
"But how did you get in there?" he asked, staring from the fangs to Ron. "You need to speak Parseltongue!"
"He did!" whispered Hermione. "Show him, Ron!"
Ron made a horrible strangled hissing noise.
"It's what you did to open the locket," he told Harry apologetically. "I had to have a few goes to get it right, but," he shrugged modestly, "we got there in the end."
"He was amazing!" said Hermione. "Amazing!"

"Hang on a moment!" said Ron sharply. "We've forgotten someone!"
"Who?" asked Hermione.
"The house-elves, they'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?"
"You mean we ought to get them fighting?" asked Harry.
"No," said Ron seriously, "I mean we should tell them to get out. We don't want any more Dobbies, do we? We can't order them to die for us -"
There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione's arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet.
"Is this the moment?" Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. "OI! There's a war going on here!"
Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other.
"I know, mate," said Ron, who looked as though he had recently been hit on the back of the head with a Bludger, "so it's now or never, isn't it?"
"Never mind that, what about the Horcrux?" Harry shouted. "D'you think you could just - just hold it in until we've got the diadem?"
"Yeah - right - sorry," said Ron, and he and Hermione set about gathering up fangs, both pink in the face.

She had pulled Ron behind a tapestry: They seemed to be wrestling together, and for one mad second Harry thought that they were embracing again; then he saw that Hermione was trying to restrain Ron, to stop him running after Percy.
"Listen to me - LISTEN RON!"
"I wanna help - I wanna kill Death Eaters -"
His face was contorted, smeared with dust and smoke, and he was shaking with rage and grief.
"Ron, we're the only ones who can end it! Please - Ron we need the snake, we've got to kill the snake!" said Hermione.

Rose, who was already wearing her brand-new Hogwarts robes, beamed at him.
"Parked all right, then?" Ron asked Harry. "I did. Hermione didn't believe I could pass a Muggle driving test, did you? She though I'd have to Confund the examiner."
"No, I didn't," said Hermione, "I had complete faith in you."
"As a matter of fact, I did Confund him," Ron whispered to Harry, as together they lifted Albus's trunk and owl onto the train. "I only forgot to look in the wing mirror, and let's face it, I can use a Supersensory Charm for that."
Back on the platform, they found Lily and Hugo, Rose's younger brother, having an animated discussion about which House they would be sorted into when they finally went to Hogwarts.
"If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you," said Ron, "but no pressure."
"Ron!"

"So that's little Scorpius," said Ron under his breath. "Make sure you beat him at every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."
"Ron, for heaven's sake," said Hermione, half stern, half amused. "Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"
"You're right," said Ron, but unable to help himself, he added, "Don't get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."