"Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare... What did Professor Sprout say? It likes the dark and the damp”
“So light a fire!” Harry choked.
“Yes — of course — but there’s no wood!” Hermione cried, wringing her hands.
“HAVE YOU GONE MAD?” Ron bellowed. “ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?”
“Oh, right!” said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames...
Harry was rubbing his forehead.
“I wish I knew what this means!” he burst out angrily. “My scar keeps hurting — it’s happened before, but never as often as this.”