I love the show Treehouse Masters because they fangirl over trees.
Imagine that at the end of Dumbledore’s speech at the beginning of the year, he asks if there are any questions, and one first year muggleborn kid raises his hand, whips out a smart phone and asks for the wifi password.
And then Dumbledore just casually says “Sherbet lemon, with a capital S”, and commences the feast like it’s no big deal while the non-muggleborns think WIFI is some sort of secret society.
There is probably something more humiliating than climbing out of your own bedroom window in full view of the neighbors early on a weekend morning. But really, I was hard-pressed to think of what it might be as I wriggled through, landed on my behind in the damp grass in my pajamas, and turned to see that Mr. Varance, the elderly widower to our right, had caught the whole show.
Sarah Dessen, “The Moon and More”