“Play Quidditch at all?”“No,” Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.“I do — Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you’ll be in yet?”“No,” said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, I dreamed I was playing Quidditch the other night,' said Ron, screwing up his face in an effort to remember. 'What d'you reckon that means?''Probably that you're going to be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something,' said Harry.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do until I know what you’ll do. I’m proactive with my preemptive reactive strategy.
”

“Oh, come on, Harry,” said Hermione, suddenly impatient. “It’s not Quidditch that’s popular, it’s you! You’ve never been more interesting, and frankly, you’ve never been more fanciable.”

“Bottom line, Eliza— you’re my home and my family, and I don’t want to lose you.I could lose everything else, and as long as I still had you and a guitar I know I’d be all right. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“Please, like I believe that,” Zahara scoffed. “I know what your boss wants, and I’m not playing house with him.” Chamuel chuckled. “Too bad you’re off limits, I wouldn’t mind playing house with you,” he said and winked.Zahara’s cheeks flushed and she balled her hands into fists. “I’ll chop off your manhood if you come close to me,” she seethed.“With what? Your teeth? Sounds like playing house to me,” Chamuel teased, raising both his eyebrows suggestively.~Zahara and Chamuel”