Remus Lupin. Two words. Werewolf Professor. His sex appeal comes from his age and intelligence, which would complement my slutty Hermione costume. Plus, I imagine things would get pretty wild (and hairy) near a full moon. One shot of Patronus, please.
Fred and George Weasley. Yes, both. Funny boys have a tendency to get really serious in the bedroom, so I, essentially, have found the two sex gems of Hogwarts. The only question is, “Do brothers do threesomes?”
Neville Longbottom. Neville is the shy, awkward kid that grows up to be a smooth-talking hipster. A hipster who knows about plants. I’d make him whisper species names into my ear. “Gillyweed…Mimbulus Mimbletonia…yeah, you like that?”
Ron Weasley. Still awkward, but now he has muscles. I’ve wanted Ron since he spent that whole book making out with Lavender Brown. Kid must have a strong tongue.
Cedric Diggory. Obviously, he’s a catch. After an entrancing enchantment, we’d mess around under the bleachers at a Quidditch match. (That’s what athletes do, right?) Don’t tell Cho.
Sirius Black. Single and ready to mingle…and wanted by the Ministry. I want him because he looks great on a poster. He’s also a rich, family man, which I’m into. We’d rendezvous in the appropriately named Shrieking Shack.
Gilderoy Lockhart. After consuming too much butter beer, I’d pretend to be really into his memoir. We’d sneak off to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, so he can perform for an audience and watch himself in the mirror (and moan).
Fleur Delacour. If I’m going to experiment with a chick, she better speak with a French accent and be capable of defeating a dragon.