"This place is so, like, kitsch!" Gilderoy Lockhart commented, stroking a stray crocodile.
"Vot," Harry, asked, bemused. He had just arrived in the Chamber of Secrets; he had forgotten his June copy of Vogue and wanted to bring it in case the horror within the Chamber had a waiting room or something. Maybe they should have booked an appointment.
"Lockhart started gyrating and I rejected him," Ron explained, tossing back his red hair with it's platinum dip dye. "And then he tried to wiped my memory so I wouldn't tell people. But my wand needs new batteries so the whole thing just backfired on him."
Harry gasped, delighted to hear such juicy gossip. "That is totes hippogriffy ridic!"
Harry proceeded to go save Ginny from her certain imminent death, while Ron tried to move some rocks without ruining his long red nails or getting dirt on his lilac maxi skirt.
"Omg, Ginny hun!" Harry squealed. The red-headed figure was stone-cold and pale, with blue lips and blue shadows under her closed eyelids. She looked on the verge of death. Harry was horrified.
"WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?!" Harry screamed, ringing his hands in distress. She wore some corduroy leggings, clown shoes, and a vomit coloured turtle neck sweater. "NOO!" Harry cried, sobbing.