"No."
"Ginny-"
"No! Absolutely not."
"Come on."
"You are not riding that thing all over bloody Britain!"
"Ginny, it's the last thing I have from him-"
"The hell it is! What about Grimmauld Place, what about that Map, what about every bloody thing you own!"
"...True. But still. Would you rather it take up space in the garage? Or at your parents' house? Or, what, in the parlour? 'Oh what a lovely house you have, Mrs Wea-Potter, the flying motorbike goes ever so well with the drapes!'"
"Hmph. It's dangerous."
"Really, Gin, Sirius knew what he was doing. He was a bloody fantastic wizard, I'm sure there are at least some Cushioning Charms or something on it."
"However brilliant he was, he was reckless and impulsive-"
"You sound like Hermione."
"You can't deny it! 'At least some Cushioning Charms,' please. I'd be surprised if there's that much on it."
"Your dad fixed it up."
"And added all sorts of mental things to it, I'm sure. Remember how you almost died riding it with Hagrid?"
"Remember how I almost died every other day for seven years?"
"Don't change the subject."
"Or is that it, then? Are you so worried about me?"
"...are you that dense? Have you not realised that that is precisely what this ENTIRE ROW has been about?"
"What?"
"Harry James Potter. Of course I am worried about you. You are the most famous person in all of Wizarding Europe. You have how many Death Eaters still after your head, and you want to go flying around in the middle of the day on a bleeding flying motorbike. You phenomenal idiot."
"..."
"Don't give me that look."
"So I'll be taking it to work tomorrow, then."
"Merlin's arse, my father is getting a Howler tomorrow."