Funny Moments in Harry Potter Books:

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Funny scenes from the Harry Potter books:

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Book 1:

Spiders falling from the ceiling

Book 3:

Neville in Defense dark arts
Woods speech
Percy Hogsmead
Cedric Digory
The firebolt - The Dursleys
The firebolt - Sweep the floor
Tea
Crackers
Trelawney christmas 1
Trelawney christmas 2
Criminal damage
Wood
McGonagall

Book 4:

Mr Weasley and money
Mr Weasley and matches

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Book 1:

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“It was not a mistake,” said Harry angrily, “it had my cupboard on it.” “SILENCE!” yelled Uncle Vernon, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.

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Book 3:

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“Neville, we’re going to back away,” said Professor Lupin. “Let you have a clear field, all right? I’ll call the next person forward. Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot —”They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe.

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“This is our last chance — my last chance — to win the Quidditch Cup,” he told them, striding up and down in front of them. “I’ll be leaving at the end of this year. I’ll never get another shot at it. Gryffindor hasn’t won for seven years now.

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But we haven’t got it, and this year’s the last chance we’ll get to finally see our name on the thing…” Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic. “Oliver, this year’s our year,” said Fred. “We’ll do it, Oliver!” said Angelina. “Definitely,” said Harry.

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Percy had what were possibly the least helpful words of comfort. “They make a fuss about Hogsmeade, but I assure you, Harry, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he said seriously. “All right, the sweetshop’s rather good, and Zonko’s Joke Shop’s frankly dangerous, and yes, the Shrieking Shack’s always worth a visit, but really, Harry, apart from that, you’re not missing anything.”

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“He’s that tall, good-looking one, isn’t he?” said Angelina. “Strong and silent,” said Katie, and they started to giggle again. “He’s only silent because he’s too thick to string two words together,” said Fred impatiently.

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“Look and see if there’s a card,” said Harry.
Ron ripped apart the Firebolt’s wrappings.
“Nothing! Blimey, who’d spend that much on you?” - “Well,” said Harry, feeling stunned, “I’m betting it wasn’t the Dursleys.”

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“I don’t think anyone should ride that broom just yet!” said Hermione shrilly. Harry and Ron looked at her. “What d’you think Harry’s going to do with it — sweep the floor?” said Ron.

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Hagrid howled still more loudly. Harry and Hermione looked at Ron to help them. “Er — shall I make a cup of tea?” said Ron. Harry stared at him. “It’s what my mum does whenever someone’s upset,” Ron muttered, shrugging. At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Hagrid blew his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, “Yer right. I can’ afford to go ter pieces.

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“Crackers!” said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witch’s hat topped with a stuffed vulture. Harry, remembering the boggart, caught Ron’s eye and they both
grinned; Snape’s mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard’s hat at once.

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“Sibyll, this is a pleasant surprise!” said Dumbledore, standing up.
“I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster,” said Professor Trelawney in
her mistiest, most faraway voice, “and to my astonishment, I saw myself
abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to
refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do
beg you to forgive my lateness. …”
“Certainly, certainly,” said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. “Let me
draw you up a chair —”

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“Certainly I knew, Minerva,” she said quietly. “But one does not parade
the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not
possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous.”
“That explains a great deal,” said Professor McGonagall tartly.

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Ron was furious with Hermione too. As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage.

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“Sirius Black,” Harry said wearily. “He’s supposed to be after me. So
McGonagall reckons he might have sent it.”
Waving aside the information that a famous murderer was after his
Seeker, Wood said, “But Black couldn’t have bought a Firebolt! He’s on the
run! The whole country’s on the lookout for him! How could he just walk
into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?” “I know,” said Harry, “but McGonagall still wants to strip it down —” Wood went pale.
“I’ll go and talk to her, Harry,” he promised. “I’ll make her see reason. … A Firebolt … a real Firebolt, on our team … She wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do. … I’ll make her see sense. A Firebolt …”

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“I daresay you’ll need to get the feel of it before Saturday’s match, won’t you? And Potter — do try and win, won’t you? Or we’ll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night. …”

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Book 4:

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“You’l be paying now, then?” said Mr. Roberts. “Ah — right — certainly —” said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him. “Help me, Harry,” he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. “This one’s a — a — a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it now. . . . So this is a five?” “A twenty,” Harry corrected him in an undertone, uncomfortably aware of Mr. Roberts trying to catch every word. “Ah yes, so it is. . . . I don’t know, these little bits of paper . . .” “You foreign?” said Mr. Roberts as Mr. Weasley returned with the correct notes. “Foreign?” repeated Mr. Weasley, puzzled. “You’re not the first one who’s had trouble with money,” said Mr. Roberts, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. “I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago.”

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“Met a few people,” said Ron, setting the water down. “You not got that fire started yet?” “Dad’s having fun with the matches,” said Fred. Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life. “Oops!” he said as he managed to light a match and promptly dropped it in surprise. “Come here, Mr. Weasley,” said Hermione kindly, taking the box from him, and showing him how to do it properly.