#udlttom

Abraxas Malfoy (being an insufferable know-it-all): Actually, it’s not called champagne because it’s not from the French town of champagne. This is just sparkling wine—

Harry: Alright and by that logic you’re not a wanker because you’re not from the French town of Wanquer, so that makes you sparkling fuckwit.

Tom:

Tom (to hissing to Harry): I can’t take you anywhere—

Harry (hissing back): It’s not a pussy because it’s not from the French town of Poosay, it’s just a sparkling cunt.

Harry (left) Tom (right):

*Harry & Ted playing 2 truths and a lie with Tom & Knights of Walpurgis*

Harry: It’s my turn again? Ok Umm…I didn’t learn how to swim until I was eleven, I’ve never been to South America, and I’m an unregistered animagus.

Ignotus Avery (frustrated): Bloody hell! Why are these so difficult?! I believe all of these!

Harry: How are they difficult?

Alyxander Mulciber: After hearing you out raced a dragon on a broomstick anything goes at this point.

Lyra Burke: Oh, I do believe you are an animagus! That would make so much sense, wouldn’t it? How else are you able to slip away so often without being noticed? What’s your form?

Abraxas Malfoy: That’s not part of the game, Lyra.

Lyra: New game! Let’s try and guess Evans’ animagus form, every wrong guess you have to drink but if we get it right Evans has to down the rest of the bottle! And we get to ask you questions!

Harry: Alright, sure.

Lyra: Is it aquatic, amphibious, reptilian, or mammal?

Harry: None of the above. Drink.

Druella Roiser: Avian?

Harry: No, though it can fly. Drink.

Thaddeus Nott: Is it an insect?

*Harry nods*

Theodore (stunned disbelief): It’s a bloody cockroach, isn’t it?

*Harry passes bottle to Theodore*

Harry: Drink up, Ted.

-3 bottles & a half of Fire whiskey later-

Abraxas: -hic-I’m telling’ ya, he’s gotta be a blue morpho-hic- I’m a thousand present positive of it-hic

Walburga Black: Shhh, please! I insist that he’s lying. He’s a liar, Abraxas, he’s been lying about the whole thing tryin’ ta get us-hic-smashed. He’s got it written on his hand 🤚

Lyra: I think-hic- if I was a animagus I’d like to be a butterfly 🦋. It-hic-reminds of the Taoist philosopher Zhuangzi—

Harry (still mostly sober): Are you not going to guess, Riddle?

Tom: Oh, I wouldn’t dare presume.

Harry: That’s no fun. C’mon, don’t be a chicken.

Tom (unable to ignore the challenge): Fine, Evans. Let me think about it… An insect that can fly, it’s blue, is found commonly in gardens, but is not native to the British isles. Is it bigger or smaller than a knut?

Harry: Smaller.

Tom: And what country is it native to?

Harry: Australia.

Tom: What does it eat?

Harry: Mostly aphids.

Tom: Then it’s a pest controller…

Harry: Give up?

Tom: Do you? If I get it right you’ll have to down half a bottle of Fire whiskey in one go, Evans.

Harry: I don’t think you’ll get it right. You’d never guess it.

Tom: How about a wager, Evans, between just you and I? I get it wrong and I’ll write one of your essays for you, any subject, any length…

Harry: I’m listening.

Tom: But if I get it right, I get a kiss. Right here (taps lips)

Harry (laughing): You know what, fine. Sure Riddle. If you think you can guess it without asking another question.

*Tom whispers his answer in Harry’s ear & its right.*

Harry:

Oh shit!

Tom: …

…

…

Harry (to Tom): Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I want to be mediocre as you call it? That perhaps my greatest ambition is to be average? An utter nobody?

Tom: That doesn’t make any bloody sense. No one wants to be no one.

Harry: I do. So I guess I’m no one.

Tom: … If you have no ambition how are you in Slytherin?

Harry (shrugging): Ambition to do nothing is still ambition, at least according to the Sorting Hat.

Tom: That’s a oxymoron.