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Do you ever think it's weird that you know everything about me, but I don't know anything about you? I reckon this is how it happened:
. . . Lily, if you're listening, you're one lucky girl.
(Scene. Derelict bookshop in an alleyway. With looooads of books. Like Moony sort of books. THUNDER CRACKS OMINOUSLY.)If you were anyone else, I'd think that you were on the pull. Which is nothing to be ashamed about, really, 'cause who wouldn't want to pull me? Lots of birds out there do. Even James, absolutely smashing and Lilysexual bloke that he is, has snogged me whilst pissed. There was tongue. On his end, not mine.
YOU. Oh hullo, do you have any autobiographies on particularly dashing British fellows?
SHOPKEEPER. Oh yes, would you be interested in learning about one Sirius Black? He's the most dashing of all the dashing fellows.
YOU. However did I never notice? Ta very much. I will now give you my left kidney as payment.
SHOPKEEPER. Cheers mate. (He grins toothily. But alas! What will he do with the kidney? FIND OUT MORE NEXT TIME.)
. . . Lily, if you're listening, you're one lucky girl.

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( oh, look! lily is playing along. contact the prophet. )
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What if Harry hears you saying that?
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And you're worried about me corrupting him.