"I survived because of love."
"Love?" asked Ron.
"Yes, Ron, love. You know, the thing you wouldn't recognized even if it danced the conga on your forehead, naked, juggled, did the cha-cha, tap-danced, and screamed 'Voldemort', all the while bashing you repeatedly over the head with a hot frying pan."
Hermione stomped out of the room.
Harry looked at Ron.
"She's got a point, mate."