“Ron's eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair.”

“Yeah, we’ll call you,” muttered Ron as the knight disappeared, “If we ever need someone mental.”

“The opportunity was too perfect to miss. Harry crept silently around behind Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, bent down, and scooped a large handful of mud out of the path.'We were just talking about your friend Hagrid,'Malfoy said to Ron. 'Just trying to imagine what he's saying to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. D'you think he'll cry when they cut off his hippogriff's—'SPLAT.Malfoy's head jerked back as the mud hit him; his silverblond hair was suddenly dripping in muck.”

“When we were in Diagon Alley,' Harry began, but Mr. Weasley forstalled him with a grimace.Am I about to discover where you, Ron, and Hermione disappeared to while you were supposed to be in the back room of Fred and George's shop?'How did you...?'Harry, please. You're talking to the man who raised Fred and George.”

“Why are they all staring?" demanded Albus as he and Rose craned around to look at the other students."Don’t let it worry you," said Ron. "It’s me. I’m extremely famous.”

“Harry: This book belongs to Harry Potter. Ron: Shared by Ron Weasley, because his fell apart. Hermione: Why don't you buy a new one then? Ron: Write on your own book, Hermione. Hermione: You bought all those dungbombs on Saturday. You could have bought a new book instead. Ron: Dungbombs rule.”

“Ron's indignation on his behalf was worth about a hundred points to him.”