Blaise: Okay, here’s something you don’t know about me. I don’t like pizza
Ron: WHAT? Say that again, babe. I don’t think I heard you
Pansy: Blaise, what do you mean you don’t like pizza?
Blaise: I just don’t understand the concept of having a bunch of ingredients just slosh around in your mouth. It’s not pizza. I have four or five things that I actually like, and I stick to those
Harry: Do you like pie then?
Blaise: Fruit should not be hot
Ron: Okay. What about a rack of ribs? Dry rub, no sauce
Blaise: That is not for me, but I do like bacon
Pansy: He’s lying. He doesn’t like bacon
Ron: So how could you not like pizza, Blaise? How could you not like——It’s pizza, babe!
Blaise: See? This is why I don’t tell anyone about this. Everyone always freaks out and acts like it’s a personal attack. It’s not my fault. I was born this way
Draco: Don’t you bring Lady Gaga into this!
