At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in! They got in on pure talent!

Which only goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words,' Dumbledore went on, smiling.

Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione. Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead. But I won't deny that I am a werewolf.

Bless my soul, whispered the old bartender, Harry Potter . . . what an honor.

Hermione was now refusing to speak to Harry and Ron, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus. All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.

Training for the ballet, Potter?

It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.