“Did you trip me?” I demand, taking a small step away from him and folding my arms angrily.
“I couldn’t resist,” James chortles while I narrow my eyes. 
And then, gathering my fallen trunk, I strut off.
That’s right, I strutted.

“James.”
Of course.
“I like your shoes.”
I look down at my scuffed, cheap, white plimsolls.
James looks down, too, apparently noticing for the first time.
 He looks surprised.

James demonstrates, showing us him with his nose all scrunched up. The class laugh at him encouragingly.
Oh, God, do I really do like that? Not that I’m saying that it didn’t look good on him. But James can pretty much look good doing whatever.
I, on the other hand, look stupid.

“Did you just growl?” James sniggers which anybody apart from James Potter would have known not to do when being pinned to the floor by an over-hormonal, dripping wet fifteen-year old girl.

“I kissed your cousin!” I blurt out desperately.
Dom’s head snaps towards me and she looks surprised for a moment; her lips parted in a slightly comical ‘o.’
Maybe her reaction will be better than I thou-.
“YOU DID WHAT?!”
Bullocks.

James gives me a confused look, then. “Why are you in detention?”
“What did you mean by that?”
“You’re never in detention. So what did you do?”
“I, er.... slapped Freddie’s arm.”

Dom doesn’t listen, instead moves her shaking (in anger, I suspect) hand to her pocket, and produces her wand. “Get out,” Dom snarls, sparks emitting dangerously from the tip of her wand.

“Er…” I begin, pushing my hand through my knotty hair, trying to bring up a conversation. The people around us automatically resume their conversation and I hear a loud guffaw from my right. “Have a nice Christmas.”

As always, originality is my strong point.