“Three turns should do it.”

“Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four.”

“The three of them fell silent. After a long pause, Hermione voiced the knottiest question of all in a hesitant voice. “Do you think we should go and ask Hagrid about it all?” “That’d be a cheerful visit,” said Ron, “ ‘Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?”

“You mustn’t blame yourself for the way the boy’s turned out, Vernon. If there’s something rotten on the inside, there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”

“Nobody's ever asked me to a party before, as a friend. Is that why you dyed your eyebrow, for the party? Should I do mine too?”

“You should write a book," Ron told Hermione as he cut up his potatoes, "translating mad things girls do so boys can understand them.”

“Bidding the wizard farewell, he turned to his daughter, who held up her fingerand said, “Daddy, look — one of the gnomes actually bit me!”“How wonderful! Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial!” said Mr. Lovegood, seizing Luna’s outstretched finger and examining the bleeding puncture marks. “Luna, my love, if you should feel any burgeoning talent today — perhaps an unexpected urge to sing opera or to declaim in Mermish — do not repress it! You may have been gifted by the Gernumblies!”Ron, passing them in the opposite direction, let out a loud snort.”