“So, um, where's your broomstick?" he countered, his face turning pink from his effort at not laughing."Broomsticks are *sooo* 1695," I replied, rolling my eye. "Modern witches use vibrators and drop acid just like everyone else.""What?" He frowned, looking confused."Yeah, *flying on broomsticks* equals a big-ass euphemism for pagan women getting their freak on with broom handles greased up with morning glory butter," I said. "Sometimes strychnine. Not a good idea, but hey, back in the day they used to think a wolf's testicle wrapped in a greasy rag was a good barrier contraceptive. So, yeah, no broomsticks for me. But thanks *ever* so much for asking about my sex life when we've only just met.”

“Do something!" Norwood told him."Do what?" Uncle Mort's face was furious. "Fly up there and get it? You bring your broomstick, Hel?”

“My granny always says "Women are like angels, when someone breaks our wings we continue to fly around on our broomsticks because we're flexible like that”

“Night, Pidge,” he whispered, turning over.I fidgeted, not yet ready to sleep. “Trav?” I said, leaning up to rest my chin on his shoulder.“Yeah?”“I know I’m drunk, and we just got into a ginormous fight over this, but….”“I’m not having sex with you, so quit asking,” he said, his back still turned to me.“What? No!” I cried.Travis laughed and turned, looking at me with a soft expression. “What, Pigeon?”

“So how did you get this job, anyway?' I asked.'My science teacher.''Why'd he pick you?''For my brains and good looks, obviously.''Yeah, right. My social studies teacher picked me, but I can't really figure out why."'For your brains and good looks, obviously.''Um, thanks.' Had Aaron just complimented me? Wow.”

“There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione's arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet. "Is this the moment?" Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. "OI! There's a war going on here!" Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other. "I know, mate," said Ron, who looked as though he had recently been hit on the back of the head with a Bludger, "so it's now or never, isn't it?" "Never mind that, what about the Horcrux?" Harry shouted. "D'you think you could just --- just hold it in, until we've got the diadem?" "Yeah --- right --- sorry ---" said Ron, and he and Hermione set about gathering up fangs, both pink in the face.”