Funny Harry Potter Quotes Book 3“Vernon Dursley speaking.” Harry, who happened to be in the room at the time, froze as he heard Ron’s voice answer. “HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I—WANT—TO—TALK—TO—HARRY—POTTER!” Ron was yelling so loudly that Uncle Vernon jumped and held the receiver a foot away from his ear staring at it with an expression of mingled fury and alarm. “WHO IS THIS?” he roared in the direction of the mouthpiece. “WHO ARE YOU?” “RON—WEASLEY!” Ron bellowed back, as though he and Uncle Vernon were speaking from opposite ends of a football field. “I’M—A—FRIEND—OF —HARRY’S—FROM—SCHOOL—” Uncle Vernon’s small eyes swiveled around to Harry, who was rooted to the spot. “THERE IS NO HARRY POTTER HERE!” he roared, now holding the receiver at arm’s length, as though frightened it might explode. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT SCHOOL YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT! NEVER CONTACT ME AGAIN! DON’T YOU COME NEAR MY FAMILY!” And he threw the receiver back onto the telephone as if dropping a poisonous spider.
“No need to tell us he’s no good,” snorted Uncle Vernon, staring over the top of the newspaper at the prisoner. (Sirius Black) “Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair!” He shot a nasty look sideways at Harry, whose untidy hair had always been a source of annoyance to Uncle Vernon. Compared to the man on the television, however, whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, Harry felt very well groomed indeed.
But Aunt Marge suddenly stopped speaking. For a moment, it looked as though words had failed her. She seemed to be swelling with inexpressible anger—but the swelling didn’t stop. Her great red face started to expand, her tiny eyes bulged, and her mouth stretched too tightly for speech—next second, several buttons had just burst from her tweed jacket and pinged off the walls—she was inflating like a monstrous balloon, her stomach bursting free of her tweed waistband, each of her fingers blowing up like a salami—
Percy, however, held out his hand solemnly as though he and Harry had never met and said, “Harry. How nice to see you.” “Hello, Percy,” said Harry, trying not to laugh. “I hope you’re well?” said Percy pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like being introduced to the mayor. “Very well, thanks—” "Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy—" "Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing." Percy scowled. "That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley. "Mum!" said Fred as though he'd only just spotted her and seized her hand too. "How really corking to see you—" "That little git," he said calmly. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the dementors were down our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?" "Nearly wet himself," said Fred, with a contemptuous glance at Malfoy.
“Right, you’ve got a crooked sort of cross…” He consulted Unfogging the Future. “That means you’re going to have ‘trials and suffering’—sorry about that—but there’s a thing that could be a sun… hang on… that means ‘great happiness’… so you’re going to suffer but be very happy….” “You need you’re Inner Eye tested, if you ask me,” said Ron…
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” said Ron, starting to get angry. “Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!” “There you are then,” said Hermione in a superior tone. “They see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim’s not an omen, it’s the cause of death! And Harry’s still with us because he’s not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I’d better kick the bucket then!” There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag.
"Well...when we were in our first year, Harry-young, carefree, and innocent-" Harry snorted. He doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent. “—well more innocent then we are now—”
“Er—shall I make a cup of tea?” said Ron.
"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" said a cold, drawling voice. Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him. "Yeah, reckon so," said Harry casually. "Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute-in case you get too near a Dementor." Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. "Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," said Harry. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you."
“Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield the information you conseal!” Snape said, hitting the map with his wand. As though an invisible hand were writing upon it, words appeared on the smooth surface of he map. "Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business." Snape froze. Harry stared, dumbstruck, at the message. But the map didn’t stop there. More writing was appearing beneath the first. "Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git." It would have of been very funny if the situation hadn’t been so serious. And there was more… "Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor." Harry’s eyes closed in horror. When he opened them, the map had ad its last word. Mr. Wormtail bids professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball.”
"Would anyone like me to help interpret the shadowy realms within their orb?" [Trelawney] murmured over the clinking of her bangles. "I don't need help,” Ron whispered, “it's obvious what this means. There's going to be loads of fog tonight."
Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.
"I let you sleep in my bed!" he said.
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