| Ron: | It's beautiful, isn't it? The moon.
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| Harry: | Divine. Had ourselves a little late night snack, did we?
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| Ron: | It was on your bed, the box, I just thought I'd try one.
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| Harry: | Or twenty.
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| Ron: | I can't stop thinking about her, Harry.
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| Harry: | Honestly, you know, I reckon she was starting to annoy you.
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| Ron: | She could never annoy me. I think I love her.
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| Harry: | Oh... brilliant.
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| Ron: | Do you think she knows I exist?
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| Harry: | Well, I'd bloody well hope so, she's been snogging you for three months.
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| Ron: | Snogging? Who are you talking about?
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| Harryr: | Who are you talking about?
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| Ron: | Romilda, of course. Romilda Vane.
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| Harry: | Okay, very funny.
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| Ron: | [throws the chocolates box at Harry]
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| Harry: | What was that for?
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| Ron: | It's no joke! I'm in love with her!
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| Harry: | Alright, fine, you're in love with her! Have you ever actually met her?
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| Ron: | No... Can you introduce me? |