“The sooner this wedding's over the happier I'll be." [Ron]"Yeah" said Harry, "then we'll have nothing to do except find Horcruxes....It'll be like a holiday, won't it? ”
“What are you doing with all those books anyway?" Ron asked, limping back to his bed. "Just trying to decide which ones to take with us," said Hermione. "When we're looking for the Horcruxes.""Oh, of course," said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I forgot we'll be hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library".”
“Yeah,” said Ron, “and lucky Harry doesn’t lose his head in a crisis — ‘there’s no wood,’ honestly.”
“There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione's arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet. "Is this the moment?" Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. "OI! There's a war going on here!" Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other. "I know, mate," said Ron, who looked as though he had recently been hit on the back of the head with a Bludger, "so it's now or never, isn't it?" "Never mind that, what about the Horcrux?" Harry shouted. "D'you think you could just --- just hold it in, until we've got the diadem?" "Yeah --- right --- sorry ---" said Ron, and he and Hermione set about gathering up fangs, both pink in the face.”
“Muggles have garden gnomes, too, you know," Harry told Ron as they crossed the lawn."Yeah, I've seen those things they think are gnomes," said Ron, bent double with his head in a peony bush, "like fat little Santa Clauses with fishing rods...”
“I'll look as if I'm dead, and that won't be true.'I said nothing.'You understand. It's too far. I can't take this body with me. It's too heavy.'I said nothing.'But it'll be like an old abandoned shell. There's nothing sad about an old shell...'I said nothing.'It'll be nice, you know. I'll be looking at the stars, too. All the stars will be wells with a rusty pulley. All the stars will pour out water for me to drink...'I said nothing.'And it'll be fun! You'll have five-hundred million little bells; I'll have five-hundred million springs of fresh water...'And he, too, said nothing more.”