“Of course not,” said Hermione. “Everything we need is here on this paper.”

“She’s a veela!” he said hoarsely to Harry.“Of course she isn’t!” said Hermione tartly. “I don’t see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!”

“Who's Kreacher?""The house-elf who lives here," said Ron. "Nutter. Never met one like him.""He is not a nutter," said Hermione."His life's ambition is to have his head cut off and stuck up on a plaque like his mother", said Ron. "Is that normal, Hermione?”

“You said to us once before," said Hermione quietly, "that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?”

“They were bullyin' him, Hermione, 'cause he's so small!" said Hagrid."Small?" said Hermione. "Small?""Hermione, I couldn't leave him," said Hagrid, tears now trickling down his bruised face into his beard. "See -- he's my brother!”

“What’s that?” said Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.“Bouillabaisse,” said Hermione.“Bless you,” said Ron.“It’s French,” said Hermione.”

“But Ron was staring at Hermione as though suddenly seeing her in a whole new light.“Hermione, Neville’s right — you are a girl. . . .”“Oh well spotted,” she said acidly.”