You can find a cookie of it here
As a child, Pansy had always loved stories. She would beg her mother to tell her fairy-tales of princesses, dragons and heroes.
“I would imagine so,” Percy said. He looked at a portrait (which, of course, did not move) nervously.
“Until they discover what we really are and decide to burn us!” hissed Pansy.
“One doesn’t need magic to make money,” Percy said.
Hermione was sitting on a chair, her arms around her legs. She blushed when he walked in.
“An Easter bunny, a chocolate bunny, a fluffy bunny,” she told him.
“Trying to do the hula!” he said sarcastically. “For a bookworm, you’re pretty thick, Granger.”
“Don’t you dare touch him!” Pansy said.