Chapter 13: The Muggle-Born Registration Commission

- Dear Pius Thickness, please stop giving the colors black and gold a bad name. No love, this proud Badger.
- Dear Dolores Umbridge, Please stop wearing velvet hair bows and, judging by your movie incarnation, cute shoes and cardigans. You’re ruining them for the rest of us. Absolutely no love, me. PS: You are the Worst.
- Well, Harry, your plan is rather… not childish, exactly. Let’s call it “naive.”
- Now, now, Ron’s not bad at magic; he just has to practice his spells, like most all of the wizarding population.
- Stupid bigoted pamphlet.
- ‘Harry is a snake’ metaphor! I wonder if I should be (should have been?) keeping track. Maybe on a full series reread (that won’t happen for ages)?
- *glares at Umbridge for the file on Arthur*
- Though, nice job on spattergroiting the ghoul, Weasleys.
- “To be punished”. Seriously, Umbridge, the Worst.
- Also, stop giving adorable kittens a bad rap.
- I wanna hear the story of the poisonous duck.
- Go, Arthur, standing up to Runcorn! (It doesn’t matter that it’s Harry.)
- Aw, bless, Harry trying to warn Arthur about being tracked.
- “that stealing sense of despair, of hopelessness”. What a wonderfully apt phrase, that despair and hopelessness steal from us.
- Ugh, Dementors.
- Shut it, Yaxley.
- Dolores, stop it; you are the Joffrey of witches.
- Also, you’re a big honkin’ liar! Selwyn, right!
- Harry tries to rip the chains, and it doesn’t work; Hermione releases the chains, and it does. Use your head, Harry.
- I love that they’re trying to rescue the Muggle-borns. It’s so them.
- Kapow!
- Though, I don’t know what chance Mrs. Cattermole has now. :(
- Bye-bye, Grimmauld Place. I was beginning to like you.