Love is regnant in the air. And so are peanuts. A tall surly handsome man strode into the room, with his dazzling blonde hair and biceps; he whipped out his magic wand and profusely waved it in the air, conjuring glances of awe and envy from his male counterparts.

What he produced was something of magnificent detail and intimacy. It was none other than a glue stick. She gracefully flowed down the Hogwarts hallway with such ease, like a feather wafted by the air-conditioner rattling away.

And what a glue stick it was. A yellow and shimmering façade hid the sultry intelligence that lay beneath begging and grasping for light, air, mind, body and soul. And oh, what a voice, a voice that could shatter Harry's monocle, yet at the same time soothe a crying infant into an endless tireless dulcet dream. Nothing could encroach upon her. Draco was mystified. Drool. Splatter. "FILCH!"