Harry: Ah, November. And…it's fricken freezing. What the hell? Normally it starts getting warmer doesn't it?
Hermione: Harry, we're in England. Kieran is in Australia. Not that he's old enough to know that at this time.
Harry: Can't we do something to warm up?
Hermione: Hold on *pulls out a jar, her wand, and a match* Now, all I have to do is strike this match against my wand so that the fire goes into the jar, rather than believe that Incendio spell will *fire spurts from her wand into the jar* Huh, I guess spontaneous combustion is real. By the way Harry, since your first Quidditch match is coming up soon, I found this in the library for you.
Harry: "Quidditch through the Ages by Kennilworthy Whisp". Pfft, reading's for nerds.
Hermione: I thought it might give you an edge on the competition.
Harry: Hermione, I can literally see every member of the Slytherin Quidditch Team's names in here. Though from what Wood's told me about Marcus Flint, I'm impressed he can read at all.
Ron: Guys, Snape.
Harry: Snape?
Hermione: SNAAAAAAAAPE! *hides flame jar*
Snape: Okay, what are you kids doing that made you reference a game that isn't even out yet?
Hermione: Err…
Snape: Is that a library book?
Ron: Err…
Snape: You can't take them out of the school. I'm going to confiscate that.
Harry: And get us in trouble for not returning it?
Snape: Yes.
Harry: Douche.
*later in the Common Room*
Hermione: Harry, you gotta get that book back.
Harry: Why should I?
Hermione: I'll show you my boobs.
Harry: You're twelve.
Hermione: I'll show you my boobs when I get hot.
Harry: I'm on my way.
*outside the staffroom*
Harry: *knocking* HELLO?! Anyone? Hmm, maybe no-one's in there. So, if I steal the book that Snape knows Hermione borrowed from the library, he couldn't possibly know it was one of us. Perfect logic *opens door, sees Snape showing his managed leg to Filch* Okay, this doesn't prove he was up to anything dodgy on Halloween.
Snape: That bloody dog is just so difficult to control.
Harry: Still doesn't prove anything. He might mean a regular dog.
Snape: How are you meant to watch all three heads at once?
Harry: Still doesn't prove anything. He might mean another three-headed…yeah, not even I believe that.
Snape: POTTER, what the hell are you doing here?
Harry: Trying to guarantee that I'll see some boobs later in life.
*back in the Common Room*
Hermione: Well, did you get it?
Harry: Well, no…
Ron: HA! No boobs for you.
Harry: But I found out that Snape is after whatever's under that dog.
Ron: Silly Harry, you can't believe everything Hermione tells you.
Harry: Even the boobs thing?
Hermione: Yes.
Harry: Damn it.
*the next day, at breakfast*
Hermione: Come on Harry, you need to eat something.
Harry: No. I'm still upset about not getting to see boobs.
Hermione: I mean because you have a Quidditch game later.
Harry: How much energy will I really be using though? I'm on a broomstick.
Ron: You could be out there for hours.
Seamus: Besides, Seekers have a tendency to take balls to the face.
Harry: I really hope you mean the Bludgers…actually, I'm not sure if that would be better.
*at the Quidditch pitch*
Neville: Did you bring the banner Dean?
Dean: Of course *unfurls banner*
Hermione: "Potter for President". Even though he meets none of the requirements.
*in the changing rooms*
Oliver: Alright, everyone here?
Angelina: Yes, we're all here.
Fred: In the Gryffindor Changing Room.
George: Emphasis on the lack of pluralisation, since it's never mentioned that there's more than one.
Harry: This makes up for missing out on Hermione's.
Oliver: Alright, Chasers, I want you get grab those balls as hard as possible, and get them in Slytherin's holes. Meanwhile, I'll be making sure we don't get our own holes penetrated. Fred and George, you be ready to beat them off at a moment's notice. If all goes well, Harry will shower us in gold when he grabs that tiny ball of his.
Harry: Everything's a euphemism with you, isn't it?
*going out onto the field*
Hooch: Now, I want a nice, clean game kids.
Harry: I think Wood ruined that with his speech.
Marcus: Duhhh…what's a game?
Harry: Is he part troll?
Marcus: Hey, my mummy was a bootiful lady. I eat you and kill you.
Harry: Yep.
Hooch: And…BEGIN!
Lee: AND THEY'RE OFF! Angelina Johnson starts with the Quaffle, the most bangable girl on the team this year…
McGonagall: Jordan…
Lee: What? She is.
McGonagall: Why do we let you commentate?
*in the stands*
Hagrid: Make way, coming through.
Ron: Hey Hagrid, what kept you?
Hagrid: The guys at the gates wouldn't let me in.
Hermione: Why not?
Hagrid: Something about the stands being unable to support my weight. But I just told them that's bull *falls through the stand* SHIIIIIIIIIIT!
*later*
Harry: Okay, good, we scored. Just gotta stay up here out of the way until I see the Snitch. Should be no problem to see a speeding golden ball from up here on a sunny day, especially for a guy with glasses.
Lee: Hey, is that the Snitch near Katie Bell?
Harry: Or I can wait for him to say it *flies after Snitch*
Terence: There's the Snitch. Now it's time to upstage the main character. Cover me Marcus.
Marcus: Okay *slams straight into Harry's broom*
Terence: No, I meant to block him without actually touching him.
Marcus: Oopsy daisy.
Terence: Why are you our captain?
Harry: Okay, Snitch has disappeared again. Well, better get out of the *broom suddenly jerks to the left* Okay, that was odd. Probably a one off occurrence, no cause for *broom suddenly jerks to the right* That's not good *broom suddenly jerks all over the place*
Hermione: OH NO!
Hagrid: What's going on up there?
Ron: Harry's broom's being jinxed. And Marcus Flint is throwing the Quaffle through the goals, catching it, and throwing it through again. Nope, wait, he stopped. Guess he thinks they're far enough in front now.
Hagrid: What's the score?
Ron: Sixty to twenty, Slytherin lead.
Hagrid: That's not enough to secure a win.
Ron: But he doesn't know that.
Hermione: Guys, I think Snape is praying.
Ron: Praying?
Hermione: Yeah, I reckon he's praying that Harry falls.
Ron: That asshole.
Hermione: Don't worry, I've got an idea *rushes off*
*out on the field*
Fred: Just drop Harry. We'll catch you.
Harry: Are you mad?
George: Yes, but we're also concerned for your safety.
Harry: I'm amazed you know the meaning of the word.
*meanwhile, in the stands*
Hermione: Just gotta quietly get through…oops, accidentally knocked Quirrell, but he didn't seem to notice. Okay, here we are *pulls out match and wand* Now, just gotta strike this match, rather than use that Incendio spell *Snape's robes catch fire* Why does that keep happening? *runs away*
*out on the field*
Harry: Hey, my broom stopped trying to get rid of me.
George: That's exactly what it wants you to think.
Harry: Okay, I'm just gonna see if I can get down to the ground on it.
Fred: I wouldn't recommend… *Harry falls past him* He fell off trying to get back on, didn't he?
George: Yep.
Harry: AHHHHH *swallows something and starts coughing. Hits ground and coughs up the Snitch* Well that was convenient.
Marcus: Too bad I scored too many goals for it to matter.
Harry: Actually, we just won by a hundred and ten points.
Marcus: No you…wait, is seventeenty a bigger or smaller number than sixty?
Harry: Bigger.
Marcus: DAMN IT!
*later, at Hagrid's hut*
Hermione: I'm telling you, Snape was praying that Harry would fall off his broom.
Hagrid: Nonsense, 'e's a teacher. Why would he pray for the death of a student? Ninety percent of the animals in and around the school could do that for 'im.
Harry: It's because I found out he tried to get past that dog.
Hagrid: *eye twitch* What dog?
Harry: That three headed dog on the third floor.
Hagrid: *eye twitch* What three 'eaded dog on the third floor?
Ron: The one with the collars that read 'Spot', 'Rex', and 'Rover'.
Hagrid: That's not right, 'is name's Fluffy…ah crap.
Harry: Told ya we'd get it out of you.
Hagrid: Well, you won't find out what 'e's guarding, that's between Dumbledore, and Nicolas Flamel…son of a bitch.
Harry: I know. You just got us banned on Fanfiction dot net because we can't use real people.