“Vot is the point of being an international Quidditch player if all the good-looking girls are taken?”

“You can't cancel Quidditch!”

“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?”

“Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down.”

“Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own? Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this,” said Professor McGonagall. “I’m very disappointed in you.”Hermione left. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and Ron.“Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points.”

“Although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.”

“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.”She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.“Er — all right.”He cleared his throat.“Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.”He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” said the girl. “Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course.”