Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Gryffindor Edition

he slid away from them in the direction of Fred and George, who were huddled in a corner with Mundungus.
Mundungus stopped talking when he saw Harry, but Fred winked and beckoned Harry closer.
“It’s okay,” he told Mundungus, “we can trust Harry, he’s our financial backer.”

Hermione was talking very earnestly to Lupin about her view of elf rights.
“I mean, it’s the same kind of nonsense as werewolf segregation, isn’t it? It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they’re superior to other creatures . . .”

Harry’s mood suddenly lifted. His father had not been a prefect either. All at once the party seemed much more enjoyable; he loaded up his plate, feeling unusually fond of everyone in the room.

Her hair was tomato-red and waist length today; she looked like Ginny’s older sister.

“I thought we’d have a little party, not a sit-down dinner,” she told

Was he, Harry, <…>, going to sulk because he didn’t have a badge,

“Drop it, Hermione.”
“We’re going to have to watch our step, George,” said Fred, pretending to tremble, “with these two on our case . . .”
“Yeah, it looks like our law-breaking days are finally over,” said George, shaking his head.
And with another loud crack, the twins Disapparated.

“Prefect . . . ickle Ronnie the prefect . . .”

“W-what do you mean?” said Ron,<…>
“You’ve got to have a reward for this!” said Mrs. Weasley fondly.

And don’t forget to pack your trunks. . . .