“Ron, we're supposed to show the first years where to go!" "Oh yeah," said Ron, who had obviously forgotten. "Hey -- hey you lot! Midgets!”

“Oh, hey, Claire,” she said, and blinked. “Where are you going?”“Funeral,” Shane said. On-screen, a zombie shrieked and died gruesomely.“Yeah? Cool! Whose?”“Hers.” Shane said.”

“This is mad,” said Ron. “We’re the only ones left who haven’t got anyone — well, except Neville. Hey — guess who he asked? Hermione!”“What?” said Harry, completely distracted by this startling news.“Yeah, I know!” said Ron, some of the color coming back into his face as he started to laugh. “He told me after Potions! Said she’s always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff — but she told him she was already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn’t want to go with Neville...I mean, who would?”

“No,” said Hermione shortly. “Have either of you seen my copy of Numerology and Gramatica?”“Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading,” said Ron, but very quietly.”

“We'll be there, Harry," said Ron"What?""At your Aunt and Uncle's house," said Ron, "And then we'll go with you wherever you're going.""No-" said Harry quickly; he hadn't counted on this, he had meant them to understand that he was undertaking the most dangerous journey alone. "You said it once before," said Hermione quickly, "that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we? We're with you whatever happens.”

“Go on, have a pasty," said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating their way through all Harry's pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten).”