Fleur de Lils
"I can't believe you like their music."
"Why? It's good stuff."
"It sounds like they just bang pots and pans around. You barely even notice the guitar. The singing is worse than Sirius."
"Wow, Potter. I didn't know you were such a music snob."
"I am a man of refinement, Evans. There are few things I have true taste for: fine food, good music, and beautiful women."
"Weren't you the one running around in just your Quidditch pads and screeching the school song the other day?"
"Well, that's different."
"How?"
"That was a dare."
"Ahh, right."
"Hey, I got off easy. We made Remus snog a Mimbulus Mimbletonia."
"Yes, Potter. You are the quintessence of sophistication."
"Indeed, my Fleur de lils."
"Ugh, I hate that nickname."
"Of course you do. You have no civility at all, Evans. I'm going to have to offer you my services."
"Oh really?"
"Yes. Fear not, though. Under my tutelage, I'll have you dining with the right silverware."
"I can rest easy now."
"Unless you're dreaming about me, of course, Mademoiselle Fleur de Lils."
"Potter."
"Remember when I was the one mocking you? I'd like to go back to that happy experience."
"That's what I thought, Monsieur."