Who am I?

"Tell me."

She petted his cheek, as if she wanted to distract him and forget. "Future is not set in stone, brother. You know that, right?"

He hated when she did this. "Please. It was about me, wasn't it?"

She bit her lip thoughtfully. "You don't have to know, ok?"

"But I want to!" He squeezed her wrist.

Due to wind, she finally noticed the tears and wiped them off, closing her eyes defeatedly before she looked back at Harry. "Just tell me this. If you could choose, would you rather live through something wonderful - but shortly and for it to end up bad, or have a long, happy life - only never really reaching the wonder?"

Harry made a confused face at first. But then, he said (as if he didn't even have to think about it): "The first option! Wonders are precious. They are worthy of sacrifice."

Gemma smiled sadly, reflections of flames dancing in her glassy eyes. "Hm. Why did I even ask?"

She swallowed the words about how it was not very wise to choose that possibility if one did not know about what was at stake.

OR:

who taught who the tongue-out-then-lick-then-seduce-with-the-eyes- and-SMIRK thing is what I want to know