Ace McLaggen

“Wanna get, like, a pint or sommat?”

“Absolutely,” Ace responded, turning his back to the mess.

“Sure it won’t.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

”But if you’re up for it—”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind.”

“Lazy arse.”

“Speaking of losing appetites— Are you apparating, or am I?”

“I can.”

“Yeah, duh. I’d rather not lose my appetite at Betsy’s, of all places.”

“No offense.”

“Tutshill. It’d be kinda nice to get away from campus for a bit. Just for the day.”

“Yeah, alright. Soon as I change these bloody shoes.”

“Yeah?”

“Tutshill or Puddlemere?”

“Well that settles that.”

“And then where?”

“Betsy’s?”

“Maybe we should stop back at yours and get a new pair?”

“S’a good idea.”

“So let me wash it off of there, silly.”

“There. It’s, uh, better, anyway.”

“It’s okay, hon, I can fix it, just— Here, stand still.”

“It smells like shite.”