“Yeah you can have a word," said Harry savagely. "Good-bye.”

“As Harry and Ron rounded the clump of trees behind which Harry had first heard the dragons roar, a witch leapt out from behind them.It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them."Congratulations, Harry!' she said beaming at him. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How do you feel now about the fairness of the scoring?""Yeah, you can have a word," said Harry savagely. "Goodbye!”

“...she had wondered which was worse: the sudden good-bye you know is a good-bye or the long good-bye you have to guess.”

“You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments.”“Yeah,” said Harry, “but you, unlike me, are a git.”

“Yeah, size is no guarantee of power,” said George. “Look at Ginny.”“What d’you mean?” said Harry.“You’ve never been on the receiving end of one of her Bat-Bogey Hexes, have you?”

“Dumbledore's man through and through, aren't you Potter?" "Yeah I am," said Harry. "Glad we straightened that out.”