“Wild!" Ron said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. "I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again... and again... and again...”

“I love you, Hermione,” said Ron.”

“Don't play," said Hermione at once."Say you're ill," said Ron."Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested."Really break your leg," said Ron.”

“You mean the Prophet won’t print it because Fudge won’t let them,” said Hermione irritably.Rita gave Hermione a long, hard look. Then, leaning forward across the table toward her, she said in a businesslike tone, “All right, Fudge is leaning on the Prophet, but it comes to the same thing. They won’t print a story that shows Harry in a good light. Nobody wants to read it. It’s against the public mood. This last Azkaban breakout has got people quite worried enough. People just don’t want to believe You-Know-Who’s back.”“So the Daily Prophet exists to tell people what they want to hear, does it?” said Hermione scathingly.Rita sat up straight again, her eyebrows raised, and drained her glass of firewhisky.“The Prophet exists to sell itself, you silly girl,” she said coldly.”

“They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat. "Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper. "Make Harry get it.""Get the mail, Harry.""Make Dudley get it.""Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley.”

“Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy-""Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing."Percy scowled."That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley."Mum!" said Fred as though he'd only just spotted her and seizing her hand too. "How really corking to see you-”

“Children's books aren't textbooks. Their primary purpose isn't supposed to be "Pick this up and it will teach you this." It's not how literature should be. You probably do learn something from every book you pick up, but it might be simply how to laugh.”