Prince Andrew looked at the laughing Speranski with astonishment, regret, and disillusionment. It seemed to him that this was not Speranski but someone else. Everything that had formerly appeared mysterious and fascinating in Speranski suddenly became plain and unattractive.
He was over ninety years of age, his walk was erect, he talked loudly, saw clearly, drank neat, ate, slept, and snored.
“Winky - hic - is not only - hic - doing housework for Mr. Crouch!” Winky squeaked indignantly, swaying worse than ever and slopping butterbeer down her already heavily stained blouse. “Master is - hic - trusting Winky with - hic - the most important - hic - the most secret…”
shelf, "it is so lonely and dull here. I have been accustomed to
“It was your head, Potter. Floating in midair.”
‘So, are you going to tell us what's happened to you?’ Harry asked.
Evelyn gives Beni a nasty look, correcting him--
Even aside from the rain and wind it hadn't been a happy practice session. Fred and George, who had been spying on the Slytherin team, had seen for themselves the speed of those new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. They reported that the Slytherin team was no more than seven greenish blurs, shooting through the air like missiles. As Harry squelched along the deserted corridor he came across somebody who looked just as preoccupied as he was. Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower, was staring morosely out of a window, muttering under his breath, “…don't fulfill their requirements… half an inch, if that…”
“Of course it's not Him,” said Mr. Weasley impatiently. “We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed.”
"The marshal, a Count Rostov, hasn't sent half his contingent. He came to town and wanted to invite me to dinner- I gave him a pretty dinner!... And there, look at this.... Well, my boy," the old prince went on, addressing his son and patting Pierre on the shoulder. "A fine fellow- your friend- I like him! He stirs me up. Another says clever things and one doesn't care to listen, but this one talks rubbish yet stirs an old fellow up. Well, go! Get along! Perhaps I'll come and sit with you at supper. We'll have another dispute. Make friends with my little fool, Princess Mary," he shouted after Pierre, through the door.