"Oi, lend me a quill."
"What's the magic word, Black?"
"There are a ton of magic words."
A sigh.
"I think you know what I mean."
"Do I?"
"I don't know."
"But you just said-"
"Shut it, Black."
A pause.
"I still need a quill."
"Ask someone else."
"But you're closest."
"I don't have any extra quills. Ask someone else."
"Yes you do! You always have quills."
"Well, today I don't."
"Yes you do!"
A muttered incantation.
"There. Now I don't."
"That's not fair."
"Life not's fair."
"That's the most overused cliche ever."
"And that was repetitive. A cliche is a phrase or opinion that is overused and betrays a lack of original thought. Saying a phrase is an overused cliche is the equivalent of saying a phrase is an overused overused phrase."
"I didn't need the dictionary definition."
"You got it anyway."
"But I still don't have a quill."
"And I still don't care."
A longer pause.
"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"
"Really? After you've annoyed me and made me want to curse you until you're an unrecognizable lump you ask me out?"
"Yeah."
Another sigh.
"If you insist."
"Sweet!"
Blessed silence.
"I still need a quill."