“I don't care if he's you twin brother," I cried. “He is an arrogant toe-rag, who treats no one with respect, especially girls. ("Ever the feminist," Alice muttered.) He pulls pranks on people for no good reason and doesn't follow any rules. Him and his friend get anything that want by charming the teachers. " I continued my rant for about 2 more minutes until my friends cried:

"SHUT-UP!" I quieted down immediately.

I told him he looked like a scholar. He just laughed again. You know, one of those annoying laughs that tell you that the person thinks you’re cute.

I hate those laughs.

“Stop patronizing me, Remus,” I said, pouting. He might as well ruffle my hair.

And no one’s allowed to ruffle my hair.
 
 
 
 

"Giving you flowers is realistic.”

    “No, that’s just cliché.”

    “But,” James said in a sing song voice, “cliché is realistic.”

    “It is not,” I snapped, turning my head down. “It’s utterly ridiculous, and if you give me flowers, I will burn them.”
 
 

“It’s okay, Lily,” James reassured me, resting a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s not okay,” I shrilled.

He chuckled.

“You know,” I began, still uncomfortable, “this door should really have a lock on it.”

Silence, yet again.

“You know, I really don’t get why you don’t have a girlfriend, Remy,” I told him bluntly. “You’re quite sexy, and really nice, and can be flity. I’d date you if I felt sexually attracted to you, which I don’t. Because I think of you as my brother. A very hot brother who needs to get one hot sexy girlfriend. Who could be me, but, as I mentioned earlier, I’m not into you, sorry.”

Silence for a moment as Remus digests the crap that just released itself from the contraption known as my mouth.