Ron &

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix Quotes

"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.

The door banged open. Hermione came tearing into the room, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. There was an envelope in her hand.
"Did you - did you get it?"
She spotted the badge in Harry's hand and let out a shriek.
"I knew it!" she said excitedly, brandishing her letter. "Me too, Harry, me too!"
"No," said Harry quickly, pushing the badge back into Ron's hand. "It's Ron, not me."
"It - what?"
"Ron's prefect, no 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 Hermione, blushing harder than ever, "no, it's not... Ron's done loads of... he's really..."

"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.

Harry and Ron both looked at her blankly, and Hermione sighed again.
"About You-Know-Who. He said, 'His gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust -'"
"How do you remember stuff like that?" asked Ron, looking at her in admiration.

"How would it be," she asked them coldly as they left the classroom for break (Binns drifting away through the blackboard), "if I refused to lend you my notes this year?"
"We'd fail our O.W.L.s," said Ron. "If you want that on your conscience, Hermione..."
"Well, you'd deserve it," she snapped. "You don't even try to listen to him, do you?"
"We do try," said Ron. "We just haven't got your brains or your memory or your concentration - you're just cleverer than we are - is it nice to rub it in?"
"Oh, don't give me that rubbish," said Hermione, but she looked slightly mollified as she led the way out into the damp courtyard.

"That's the bell," said Harry dully, because Ron and Hermione were bickering too loudly to hear it. They did not stop arguing all the way down to Snape's dungeon [...]

"The hats have gone. 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."
Hermione did not speak to him all morning.

"Have a butterbeer." Ron pressed a bottle onto him. "I can't believe it - where's Hermione gone?"
"She's there," said Fred, who was also swigging a butterbeet, and pointed to an armchair by the fire. Hermione was dozing in it, her drink tipping precariously in her hand.
"Well, she was pleased when I told her," said Ron, looking slightly put out.

"How was practice?" asked Hermione rather coolly half an hour later, as Harry and Ron climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.
"It was -" Harry began.
"Completely lousy," said Ron in a hollow voice, sinking into a chair beside Hermione. She looked up at Ron and her frostiness seemed to melt.

"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've ever met," said Ron weakly, "and if I'm ever rude to you again -"
"- I'll know you're back to normal," said Hermione.

"You were the only person last year who could throw off the Imperius Curse completely, you can produce a Patronus, you can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can't, Viktor always said -"
Ron looked around at her so fast he appeared to crick his neck; rubbing it, he said, "Yeah? What did Vicky say?"
"Ho ho," said Hermione in a bored voice.

"That was really, really good, Harry," said Hermione, when finally it was just her, Harry, and Ron left.
"Yeah, it was!" said Ron enthusiastically, as they slipped out of the door and watched it melt back into stone behind them. "Did you see me disarm Hermione, Harry?"
"Only once," said Hermione, stung. "I got you loads more than you got me -"
"I did not only get you once, I got you at least three times -"
"Well, if you're counting the one where you tripped over your own feet and knocked the wand out of my hand -"
They argued all the way back to the common room, but Harry was not listening to them.

"Good luck, Ron," said Hermione, standing on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek. "And you, Harry -"
Ron seemed to come to himself slightly as they walked back across the Great Hall. He touched the spot on his face where Hermione had kissed him, looking puzzled, as though he was not quite sure what had just happened.

Ron made a noise that might have indicated jubilation or disgust, it was hard to tell.
"Because she was crying," Harry continued heavily.
"Oh," said Ron, his smile fading slightly. "Are you that bad at kissing?"
"Dunno," said Harry, who hadn't considered this, and immediately felt rather worried. "Maybe I am."
"Of course you're not," said Hermione absently, still scribbling away at her letter.
"How do you know?" said Ron in a sharp voice.

"You'd think a bit of kissing would cheer her up," said Ron, grinning.
"Ron," said Hermione in a dignified voice, dipping the point of her quill into her ink pot, "you are the most insensitive wart I have ever had the misfortune to meet."

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 nastily, picking up her quill again.

"Who're you writing the novel to anyway?" Ron asked Hermione, trying to read the bit of parchment now trailing on the floor. Hermione hitched it up out of sight.
"How many other Viktors do we know?"
Ron said nothing, but looked disgruntled.

"What does she see in Krum?" Ron demanded as he and Harry climbed the boys' stairs.
"Well," said Harry, considering the matter, "I s'pose he's older, isn't he... and he's an international Quidditch player..."
"Yeah, but apart from that," said Ron, sounding aggravated. "I mean, he's a grouchy git, isn't he?"

"Thanks for the book, Harry!" she said happily. "I've been wanting that New Theory of Numerology for ages! And that perfume is really unusual, Ron."
"No problem," said Ron.

"Harry, you're worse than Ron... Well, no, you're not," she sighed, as Ron himself came stumping into the Hall splattered with mud and looking grumpy.

"You should write a book," Ron told Hermione as he cut up his potatoes, "translating mad things girls do so boys can understand them."

"Oh yeah, I forgot, you're a Mudblood, Granger, so ten for that..."
Ron pulled out his wand, but Hermione pushed it away, whispering, "Don't!"

"Oh, why don't we have a night off?" said Hermione brightly, as a silver-tailed Weasley rocket zoomed past the window. "After all, the Easter holiday starts on Friday, we'll have plenty of time then..."
"Are you feeling all right?" Ron asked, staring at her in disbelief.

"What do you think about this?" Hermione demanded of Ron, and Harry was reminded irresistibly of Mrs. Weasley appealing to her husband during Harry's first dinner at Grimmauld Place.

"Hermione," said Ron in a low and indignant voice, "are you going to stop telling Harry off and listen to Binns, or am I going to have to take notes instead?"
"You take notes or a change, it won't kill you!"

"Such a lovely, sweet-tempered girl," said Ron, very quietly, prodding his queen forward so that she could begin beating up one of Harry's knights.