“Bubotubers,” Professor Sprout told them briskly. “They need squeezing. You will collect the pus —”“The what?” said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.“Pus, Finnigan, pus,” said Professor Sprout.”

“In March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three. This made Professor Sprout very happy.“The moment they start trying to move into each other’s pots, we’ll know they’re fully mature,” she told Harry.”

“Hello, Professor McGonagall,” said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.“What — what are you doing?” said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret’s progress through the air.“Teaching,” said Moody.“Teach — Moody, is that a student?” shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.“Yep,” said Moody.“Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!” said Professor McGonagall weakly.”

“Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare . . . what did Professor Sprout say? — it likes the dark and the damp —''So light a fire!' Harry choked.'Yes — of course — but there’s no wood!' Hermoine cried, wringing her hands.'HAVE YOU GONE MAD?' Ron bellowed. 'ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?”

“Professor Flitwick had dried himself off and set Seamus lines ("I am a wizard not a baboon brandishing a stick")”

“I—I didn't think—""That," said Professor McGonagall, "is obvious.”

“Fifty?” Harry gasped.“Fifty points each,” said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily.“Professor — please —”“You can’t —”“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Potter. I’ve never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students.”