The Fleetch and I were cooking casserole earlier. I do so enjoy cooking with her, partly because it's fun and partly because she insists we drink while we cook. I opened the alcohol cupboard and peered inside.
Me: So what do you want?
Fleetch: Gin. Give me gin.
Me: With what?
Fleetch: Whatever we have. GIVE. ME. GIN.
I poured the Fleetch a cocktail of gin, apple juice and some random pink mixers, hoping that the outcome would not be a horrific blend of flavour. I added extra gin just to be on the safe side.
Me: Taste this.
She tasted it cautiously.
Me: Is it... ginny enough?
Fleetch: It's perfectly Ginny! Ginny Weasley!
Me: Ha! That's awesome!
Fleetch: Makes me wish I could have a Ginny and Tonkic.
Me: Maybe I'll have Peach Snapes.
Fleetch: We have just found my new favourite game.
Me: Fancy a Vodka Krum?
Fleetch: Perhaps a Longbottom Iced Tea? Or a Harvey Wallgranger?
Me: Where will the Sorting Hat put you? Griffinschlager!
Fleetch: Bitch please. You know I'd be a Slytherin.
Me: Ugh, dude. Ravenclaw is clearly the superior house.
Fleetch: Shut your beautiful mouth.
And I did. But mainly because it was full of Peach Snapes. I shall leave you with that imagery.