"Okay," Remus said slowly, making sure his friends were following along. "Let's go over this one more time. If you bite it and you die, it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venemous. Got it?"
"I think so. . ." James said, trailing off uncertainly.
"Wait! I have a few questions!" Sirius yelped. "What if I bite it and it dies?"
"That means you're poisonous," Remus responded dryly.
"What if it bites itself and I die?" Sirius asked.
"That's voodoo."
"Okay, but what if it bites me and someone else dies?"
Remus was starting to get annoyed. "That's correlation, not causation."
"All right, but what if I bite it, and neither one of us die?"
"That's. . . kinky?" Remus said uncertainly. Peter laughed.
James laughed. "I don't know if she's interested, mate."
Sirius scoffed. "Of course she's interested, Prongs. You see, I happen to have something called the magic touch."
"You have the what?" James asked, unable to control his laughter.
"The magic touch," Sirius repeated, a touch of defiance in his voice.
"So you have 'the touch?'" Remus asked with a grin. "That sounds like something you should get looked at."
"What? No, you idiots, the magic touch -- how do you not know what I'm talking about?" Sirius protested.
"We're all magic," James stated, with a grin identical to Remus's.
"So we literally all have the 'magic touch,' Sirius," Remus added.
"So really, you're just saying you have 'the touch,'" James said.
"Sounds terribly dirty," Remus said, unable to keep a straight face any longer.
"Sounds diseased, really," Peter chimed in.
"You know what," Sirius said loudly, "You're all terrible friends."
James gaped indignantly. "Sirius!"
"Don't listen to him, James. It's 'the touch' talking," Remus said, smirking.