“Turns out its not where you are but who you’re with that matters”
“She was one of those Southerners who knew from an early age that the South could never be more for them than a fragrant prison”
“How do you feel Georgie?” whispered Mrs.Weasley.
George’s fingers groped for the side of his head.”Saintlike,” he murmured.
“What’s wrong with him?” croaked Fred, looking terrified. “Is his mind affected?”
“Saintlike,” repeated George, opening his eyes and looking up at his nrother. “You see…I’m holy. Holey, Fred, geddit?”
Mrs.Weasley sobbed harder than ever. Color flooded Fred’s pale face.
“Pathetic,” he told George. “Pathetic! With the whole world of ear-related humor before you, you go for holey?”
“Ah well,” said George, grinning at his tear-soaked mother. “You’ll be able to tell us apart now, anyway, mum.”