Lettuce Prey [Theo]

[mathilde manon poole]

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April 20th, 2029

Despite not being in LIFE yet, the rumors of weird extra credit being granted by the Care of Magical Creatures professor broke into the ranks of the MAGIC students. Supposedly, Professor Weasley's bonus points came from taking a picture of a flobberworm with a piece of lettuce, inside Flobberworm and Lettuce. It was a bit on the nose. But also, Tilly couldn't get points because she wasn't in his class yet. That didn't stop her freaky little brain from bringing it up to Theo the second she found out about it. Maybe she could get it rolled over into the following school year, since she planned to take the class at that point.

"You don't suppose it's a health code violation, do you?" she posed the question to her best friend as they sat at a high-top in the school pub. An empty glass of butterbeer sat in front of her, remnants of the butterscotch bubbles fizzling out. She'd ordered a salad but it hadn't been brought out yet. The live flobberworm squiggled in the inner pocket of her robes. The worst part about being in the pub was that legally, she wasn't allowed to drink. That hadn't stopped her from asking anyways, and she'd been reminded for the tenth time this term that she wasn't old enough, nor were they serving alcohol to a MAGIC student. Tilly could only roll her eyes at that, before sneakily taking a swig out of her flask that she'd hidden away since being home during Christmas. Her father wouldn't miss the minuscule amount of scotch she'd stolen. A splash of it on the top of her butterbeer always made her lips pucker and her face flush. Today, she'd poured a little more than usual into it.

"Not that I care..." Tilly ran her tongue over her newly formed front teeth. It had only been a week since she made out with a bludger during practice, but those few hours of looking like a toothless child again had made her appreciate having all of her teeth where they belonged inside her mouth. "Have you ever had a flobberworm fritter?" she asked Theo, feeling for the one in her pocket again. It couldn't escape, but she still felt it necessary to check. Just in case.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

THE BUTTERBEER AT THE FLOBBERWORM AND Lettuce was mediocre at best. Theo still figured it was better than nothing, especially when there was conspiring to be done. Theo licked the foam from his upper lip and eyed Tilly from over the rim of his big tankard. She'd made short work of her own drink and seemed to vibrate with the kind of restless energy that drew unwanted attention. Setting his glass down, he reached over and clapped a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"I hope so." Theo said with a smirk, his teeth aching from the sweet drink as he gave Tilly's shoulder a slight shake before he let go. They'd been practically inseparable since she'd lost just about all of her teeth, and Theo had gotten detention from wailing over her bloodied robes in the middle of the Great Hall. Making no less than three separate students gag, or faint, or both. A soaring success in his eyes. Since then, Theo had unfortunately found himself fully indoctrinated into the Tilly Poole Fan Club. Fortunately, Tilly seemed to mind even less.

"I think it's more likely that the salad you ordered is violating a couple codes." Theo peered over his shoulder at the bar, which was a bit sticky for his liking. The staff were either tired-eyed, weary old farts, or older students who looked even less amused at working on school grounds. Theo thought maybe people were drawn to the place because it was a novelty, but he thought it was all a bit tacky if he were honest.

"Don't be selfish," Theo curled his fingers expectantly as Tilly splashed a foreign spirit into the top of her butterbeer. He practically wrestled the flask from her fingers, pouring more than his fair share before he passed it back with a secretive wink. They'd been warned so often not to keep asking for firewhiskey, that Theo wondered if they had their pictures pinned somewhere in the back. 'Do Not Serve These Students', or something equally hilarious. 

His butterbeer soured slightly at the intrusion of a, more than likely muggle, spirit. Theo enjoyed the thrill of it as it burned the back of his tongue. "Are you having second thoughts, Poole?" Theo teased, leaning across the table to leer at her. He gestured down at her pocket, which was pinched closed, knowing exactly what wriggled unpleasantly on the inside. "'Course I have," Theo lied loftily. "It's a Pureblood delicacy." He, in fact, had not. And if his mother had known he was spreading such lies, he'd have been clipped around the ears. Luckily, she was dead. 

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”Right? Couldn’t kill them to put like, fried chicken in it or something…” Muggles did it so much better. Hogwarts food was fine. The best meals were amazing, but the rest were mediocre in her opinion. Where was the grease, the sugar, the unhealthy, artery-clogging shit she craved? Outside of Halloween and important events, the regular meals had become so boring and mundane. Beauxbatons had been worse, and that was where she had learned that salads were somewhat tolerable and eating vegetables made her feel better. But Tilly required a healthy dose of horrible fast-food and snacks that would make the average person vomit if they consumed the amount she did. Her iron stomach had allowed her to make all sorts of questionable decisions when it came to food.

Theo had snagged her flask from her as she pondered whether or not asking the house elves for chicken tenders was going too far, and for once, she was too slow to grab it back. ”Hey!” she hissed at him, trying not to draw too much attention to the silver shine that was being held over his butterbeer currently. ”I don’t have a lot left. Trying to save some for the train ride home.” Realistically, she was going to down whatever remained during the final dinner of the term and then sleep it off. Trying to explain why her breath smelled like scotch to her parents as they picked her up would have them wondering if they raised a Quidditch star or a teenage alcoholic. She figured, why not both?

”Fuck no, I’m not,” she countered back. ”It’s just a picture, and then back it goes into my pocket. Safe and sound.” Her question about the fritters more had to do with the fact that she’d never had one herself. They appeared infrequently on the tables during mealtimes, but she’d never had much interest in chowing down on one. They usually went untouched, so it seemed the sentiment was shared amongst the student body. ”What’s it taste like?” Tilly asked as she watched a waiter come from the kitchen carrying a bowl that looked suspiciously like her salad, sans fried meat.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

WITH A STRANGE LITTLE TILT OF HIS HEAD, HE wondered again what kind of environment Tilly was brought up in. Unable to imagine the sheer vulgarity of fried chicken in a salad dish. His Great Aunt Octavia would surely pop a blood vessel at the mere mention. "Fried chicken in a salad?" Theo wrinkled his nose and snorted in that way only a posh boy could. "Don't be gauche." He rolled his eyes and shifted his gaze down to his butterbeer.

Batting away Tilly's incessant protests, he took his share of the flask and tossed it back carelessly. "Oh, pshaw!" He said, licking the foamy spirits from his lips with a glassy eyed enthusiasm. "Come visit me this summer," He posed with a careful look over his tankard. As if she might reject him in some spectacular fashion. "We can drink the oldest fairy wine in my aunts cellar, and see if it opens our 'third eye'." He smirked, thinking of how Octavia waxed poetic about how a 'good wine' had at least a decade of vintage to its name. He thought that was just code for 'old alcoholic' chatter.

"Are you freeballing the worm in your pocket?!" Theo almost leapt across the table to try and peer down at Tilly's robes. She was clenched protectively, as if she thought it would somehow make some grand escape. Rattling with that same excited energy that Theo found himself matching instinctively. She had the audacity to ask him how it tasted and he paused from where he was half draped over the table his tankard pushed to one side carelessly. "Uh..." He leaned back into his seat and shrugged. "Like Flobberworm." Theo offered finally, unwilling to go into detail seeing as the disgusting creature had never graced his lips before.

"You should try it..." He offered with a twinkle in his eye. The thought came to him at once, with a great leap of mischief as he bit the side of his mouth contemplatively. "Raw." He quirked his brows, eyeing Tilly from across the table, that glint in his eye that spoke of nothing but trouble. "Dare you..." As if he knew that Tilly couldn't help herself when it came to a ploy, or dare that tested her mettle. She had, after all, cheered after mashing out most of her teeth. If anybody would be up for it, it would be Tilly Poole. His stomach rolled at the mere thought. 

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Tilly didn’t like that he was looking down on her for her taste in food. She thought of herself as infinitely more worldly with what she put in her body than he was. Having a silver spoon in the magical world meant that he really didn’t get the wonders of fast-food. That could easily change, as long as she could scrounge together enough money to get them both something. Because there was no way she was taking Theo to get a Big Mac and not getting one (or two) herself.

Mulling over how she could achieve such a thing during their soon to be shortened summer break, all thanks to LIFE’s rules about having a term during the time they previously had off, Theo offered her an invitation to visit him. At his aunt’s. She had heard murmurings about his Great Aunt Octavia for a while now, and everything about her seemed awful. And like she was on death’s door. The realization made her eyes open, though it would probably seem to Theo that she was reacting to the prospect of basement wine. That was nice and all, but inspecting someone that was about to keel over at any moment was way cooler. ”I’m sure I could skip out after summer classes. My parents wouldn’t notice if I told them I had practice.” That was maybe the only good part about having access to the grounds that time of year. Infinite freedom on the pitch.

”Of course I am. But it keeps trying to climb out,” she explained. Her hand had been pressed up against the pocket for a while now to prevent its escape. Pretty soon here, she was going to have to let it out. All she needed was the damn salad and a piece of lettuce, and then she could huck it out the window or something. Flobberworms probably liked the shrubbery around the campus.

The next words that came out of Theo’s mouth left her slightly dumbstruck. On one hand, bold assumption that she’d ever eat a flobberworm. On the other, of course she would if she was dared to do so. It sort of made her feel bad about bringing it all this way with the intention of taking a picture and then freeing it, but that feeling passed a second later. If she let it go, a bird would probably scoop it up within the hour.

”Okay,” Tilly said. She sat herself up a little straighter as she answered. ”I still want to take the pi-“ she trailed off halfway through saying ‘picture’, as her salad was placed in front of her. That made things a lot faster than she had anticipated. Swallowing, she pulled the flobberworm out of her pocket, and placed it next to a loose piece of lettuce that she pried out of her bowl. It wriggled its way onto the leaf, the various subsections of its body undulating as it moved. Tilly thought of herself as far removed from being squeamish as possible, but for a brief moment she realized that she was about to eat that thing.

Quickly, she took her phone out and snapped the photo she’d come for in the first place. A few extras were taken just in case, and then she set the phone down on the table and observed the creature as it nibbled on lettuce. ”Should I, like, stab it first or just go for it?” she asked Theo. Any bit of hesitation was going to make it harder to do.

Deciding not to wait for his answer, Tilly plucked the flobberworm off of the piece of lettuce, gave her friend one last look at it, and then dangled it above her mouth. In one hard bite with her newly formed front teeth, it was bisected. The mucous that leaked out was gag worthy. She didn’t waste a moment though and tossed the other half into her mouth without looking at it, making sure to only give each enough chews to make it easier to swallow. It went down a lot easier than she thought it would. ”And done!” she said immediately after, opening her mouth to show Theo.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

THOUGH THEO HAD REALLY BEEN TESTING THE waters by suggesting they hang at his place over the summer, he felt marginally eased by the strange little jolt of excitement on Tilly's face when the request sunk in. He hid a smile into his tankard, taking a long drink out of his spiked glass until the back of his throat felt oily with it. He ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth and tried to think of he'd ever been really drunk before. And tipsy on his aunts decanters of rum didn't really count.

"Owl me," He said with as much cool as he could muster. Turning his face away, but being immediately drawn back into the fold by an uncontained Flobberworm. Only Tilly would think it perfectly normal to keep the slippery old thing in her pocket. He was half over the table, trying to get a look into Tilly's pocket as she pawed at it carefully. "Yeah!" He laughed, dropping his head to the table, before lifting it promptly when the sticky wood caught in his hair. "I wonder why..." He mused with a laughing grin, patting at his sticky fringe as he smoothed a handful of curls out of his face.

When he dared her, Theo sat back in his high top seat and let it sink in. He didn't need to beg, or plead with her to do it. He didn't even need to offer her any money. All it took was a little time, and a little thought. Something Tilly did plainly, with a cute little crease between her eyebrows. He clasped his tankard, and let her freaky little brain do all the work for him.

When she finally agreed, Theo pumped his fist once in triumph. Just as a plate full of limp salad was placed onto the table in front of them. Promptly abandoned by the server, who looked about as pleased to be there as the Flobberworm probably was. Theo pushed his drink aside and scooted his chair closer as Tilly took out her magimobile and the worm, which was much bigger than Theo remembered. His nose wrinkled, and he felt his stomach turn as it flailed around in the lettuce leaf. A quick flash of the phones camera, and she was picking the awful creature back up between thumb and forefinger. "I dunno, I've never eaten one before!" Theo confessed with a wide-eyed stare. He had just enough forethought to snatch Tilly's phone from the table as she lifted the ugly Flobberworm up and held it right over her open mouth. Like some kind of gawping big fish.

Theo lifted the phone with a panicking hand and took a burst of photographs. Cataloguing the first bite between shiny, straight teeth. The grey gunk bursting forth like the worst Bottie Berrie there ever was. Theo erupted in a barking laugh of shock and horror, his finger pressing and pressing as he stared up over the top at Tilly. She was remarkably unphased, her expression only crumpling every so slightly as she swallowed first and then rammed the second half into her mouth with gusto.

Her jaw worked as she chewed, and Theo had to stop taking photographs to mime a few gags over the side of the table when he heard something crunch against her molars. "Salazar, that was horrible!" He crowed, blinking tears of laughter and disgust from his eyes as he slapped the table and jostled their drinks heartily. He let out a breath and licked his lips, noting that Tilly's expression was frightfully blank. "You are, hands down, the weirdest girl I've ever met!" Theo declared with enough strange affection that it pinked his cheeks a little bit. "What did it taste like?" 

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Having something to do over summer aside from Quidditch and school was actually promising. Usually she just rotted away in her bed until she got a hankering for testing her luck at St. Mungo’s or snuck out at night to walk through the local cemetery. No one ever bothered her when she was there late, the local teens already thought she was an odd one for only being around during break times. The cover story was that she was abroad at some all-girls exclusive private school. In France. Her parents could have come up with something better, but it worked well enough. No one asked any further questions, and if they did, she could play stupid and start blabbering away in French to them. ”I could show you my graveyard,” she said abruptly, not elaborating at all that this wasn’t hers specifically, and just the local muggle one. There were more important tasks at hand regarding the flobberworm.

Which tasted awful. Now she knew why they were fried or frittered before eaten. Surely some other stupid witch or wizard had tried it raw and alive before and come to the same conclusion that she was now. Alas, it was too late, and she bravely swallowed both halves while Theo admitted he’d never eaten one in the first place. She shot him a look as she wiped her mouth off with the side of her hand. A bit of the greyish innards had leaked onto her face during the initial chomp. ”Want to try?” she held the finger out to Theo for only a half-second, before shoving it back in her mouth and sucking the rest of the flobberworm mucus off of it. It didn’t matter to her at this point, her whole mouth tasted like the thing.

”A bit earthy. Really juicy, obviously,” she said as she pulled her finger back out and fetched a napkin to dry it off. ”Don’t think I’d do that again. At least not for free.” She took his comment about being weird as a compliment. It didn’t matter if he was laughing about what she’d just down or grossed out. Everything she did in front of him made its way to others, and then they passed it on in a long game of telephone. By the end of the week, the story would probably be that she ate an entire bowl of the slugs. ”So if you put money down or something…” Tilly raised an eyebrow at him.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

TRYING TO PLAY IT COOL ONLY WORKED FOR SO long, because Tilly Poole always said something totally out of pocket to throw Theo off his game. He blinked stupidly, and reared his head back to stare at Tilly for a minute before he asked hurriedly. "Your graveyard of what?" The question seemed as important as it was probably terrifying, but Theo felt a buzz of adrenaline as he tried to think what Tilly might be burying with such abundance that it deserved a graveyard. How many dead things did it take to constitute a graveyard? Theo tried to remember and ask his great aunt when he saw her next.

The talk of dead things was carefully shelved, however, in favour of the infamous Flobberworm. Tilly almost seemed too eager to proceed, and Theo made a point to remember and ask her to send him the pictures he'd taken when he stopped laughing about how crazy it was. They were likely another incident away from being kicked out. but he couldn't find it in him to care. "Uh, I think you've got that covered." He said with a wrinkled nose, leaning out of reach of her mucous covered fingers. She really had a taste for the disgusting. "I never said you had to enjoy it!" He told her with a crazed little huff of laughter.

"I think that's probably fair." He acquiesced, still dumbstruck that she had done it at all. Theo mused that he wouldn't have done it without at least a couple of galleons on the table, but Tilly seemed to just enjoy the thrill of being told she couldn't do something. Of being challenged. He sort of really liked that about her. It made for a twisted day out.

He pulled her phone toward him and scooted his chair in her direction. "I took photos, lets look." He declared, flicking through her magimobile with fervent attention. They were as twisted as he imagined, having caught the first moment the juice had squelched from the worm as she'd bitten down. He mimed another gag and shook his head, reaching into his pocket with his free and hand pulling out the little pouch of pocket money he kept on him.

Tossing it across the table, he grinned at her. "You've earned it," He told her, thinking there was probably about 25 sickles in there, and maybe a stray galleon if she were lucky. Meanwhile, he took another glug from his tankard of spiked butterbeer and felt a fuzziness start somewhere at the back of his head. He wasn't drunk by any means, but it had been enough to make his head spin a little. Or maybe that was just the Tilly Poole effect.

However, their bubble was burst when the haggard looking server lurched over to their table, an ugly frown on her spotty face. Theo prepared for a lashing. "Two customers just complained you've made them toss up their lunch." She declared haughtily. "You can't eat worms at the dinner table, it's against the hygiene codes, or whatever." Theo could tell she'd been directed to tell them off, and he felt a cruel little laugh bubble up at the ridiculousness of it. "Well, it's not our fault the worm tasted better than the salad!" He jeered, looking at Tilly expectantly. 

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"Like, the local graveyard where people bury their dead ones and shit?" she said in return, as if he should have known that already. "Its 'round the corner from my house. So I hang out there. That makes it basically mine." None of its inhabitants were coming back up to lay claim to it. So aside from her and the local punks, who else was there to compete against? She had a healthy collection of tombstone etchings too. Binders full, actually. Old George Jacobson who died way back in the ancient year of 1990 wasn't going to give a rat's turd about her scribbling over a piece of paper to keep his memory alive. Hell, she even cleaned them up and made them look pretty every now and again. They never had any other visitors anyways.

Tilly shrugged as he balked at the idea of tasting some of the flobberworm. It was starting to grow on her a little bit, now that it wasn't squirming in her mouth any longer. That didn't mean she'd ever do it again, reward pending of course. Leaning into him to take a look at the photos Theo had snapped, she reached over and flicked through them one by one. "That one is pretty good!" she exclaimed at a particularly gnarly shot of her biting down into the flobberworm. Guts and gore gushed from it as her sparkling white teeth sunk through it. It made her look like a vicious animal. Which was awesome, because that was how she'd felt. The only other food that elicited that sensation was biting into a rare steak. The primal urge of it all was unreal. Reliving it through the series of snapshots really helped picture it from the other side.

A fat stack of coins was set on the table, and Tilly looked between it and Theo. "But you won't be able to buy troll tits off of Peter Copeland anymore?" Tilly feigned her concern as she pulled the drawstring open and started to sift through the sickles, counting. She pocketed it after a moment, "Guess that means I can instead." A horrid giggle came out of her, but was interrupted by the clinically depressed server returning to their table. Apparently the flobberworm stunt had caused a ruckus. Tilly really didn't care. Luckily, Theo had launched the proverbial bludger in her direction, and she quickly slid through the photos on her phone, accidentally going one too far and exposing her bloodied face. "Well what's this then?" she demanded, showing the picture she'd just snapped of the flobberworm sitting on the piece of lettuce. "Are you saying that it wasn't part of the protein in my salad!?" In an instant, Tilly mimicked her own gagging, hoping the overworked and exhausted waitress would back the hell off.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

TO THEO'S IMMENSE RELIEF, TILLY CLARIFIED that the graveyard in question was 'hers' by proxy. He nodded, slowly at first as she vehemently defended her ownership. "Right," He muttered, a slight crease between his brows as he stared at her openly. "Obviously." Dipping his chin to take a slurp of foamy butterbeer so he had something to do with his mouth that wasn't calling her batty. Theo didn't want to be uninvited to Tilly's graveyard, after all.

Rearing away from her sticky fingers, Theo watched as Tilly's face eventually relaxed from its scrunch of distaste. Almost as if, the more she chewed and swallowed the less repulsive she found it. Only Tilly would acclimatise herself to the taste of raw Flobberworm. Like some kind of potions experiment gone wrong. Shaking his head at the audacity of it, Theo made himself busy by sharing his snapshots. Masterpieces, far as he was concerned. And Tilly, with her curtain of brown hair tickling his shoulder, seemed to think so too as she peered at them curiously. Theo alternating his attention from the screen and Tilly's profile. He nodded in agreement at her favourite, quickly firing it off in a text to himself so he had a copy.

Tossing over his pouch of pocket money, Theo snorted at her exclamations. "Do you really think I'd pay Copland a spare knut?" He tucked his robes close, a bit smug as he twitched his shoulders in a lazy shrug. "He does it for free." Which was mostly true, unless he was asking for something specific. "'Cause it's funny." He explained, failing to add that they got a twisted little thrill out of the possibility of getting caught, too. That went without saying, really. "Just-" He waved her off, "If you do, don't tell him I told you." Theo twisted his mouth. "He's a bit of a wet blanket sometimes." Talented as he was, poor sod.

Rudely interrupted, Theo tucked his spiked tankard close just in case they'd been caught spiking their drinks again. Of course, it was more about the Flobberworm than the flask. He guffawed and gestured to Tilly, lamenting about the limp lettuce leaf still sagging lamely on the plate. Tilly, for all her angelic features, was quick about her own reply as she whipped out her magimobile and turned the screen toward the dosey server. Theo had to lift his robe collar up and bite down on it to stop himself from roaring with laughter as the server did a double take.

Once he was about composed, Theo nodded severely, his twisted mind ticking as the girl stuttered her denial. "This is a downright insult!" He lifted a pointed finger, pushing out from his stool to bolster his outrage. He stopped it from tipping, but only so he could climb up on to it, his knees wobbling with the unsteady legs as pulled out his wand and pressed the tip to his throat, casting a quick Sonorus as he addressed the pub.

"Let it be known, this pub sells Flobberworm salads and then shames its patrons for enjoying the delicacy!" He stamped his foot, and nearly toppled off his perch. The server was openly pulling on his trouser leg then, her face so red that she looked like an ugly spot about to burst. "Show them, Tilly!" He waved his hand at his friend, wide-eyed and mouth twitching. "Justice for Flobberworm salad!" He chanted, stooped over so that he could bang his free fist on the wooden table. 

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”Yes,” Tilly answered honestly about Peter Copeland’s masterpieces. Quite frankly, they belonged in a museum dedicated to the strange and macabre, just like her. While she personally got nothing out of looking at the drawings, they were fascinating. And the black market that seemingly bubbled up around them was vast. She’d heard whisperings from other boys in fifth year. They always let their guard down around her, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Clearly, they didn’t view her as a member of the opposite sex. ”Well, I’m saying he should charge for them. He deserves some pocket change for them,” she shrugged. ”Are they supposed to be a secret or something? Because it’s not a very well kept one by any means.” Tilly’s first assumption was that it was out of embarrassment. The tits on the first drawing Theo had shown her a few days prior were all wonky looking. Or maybe it was because Peter Copeland had a troll fetish. Whatever tickled his pickle. Everyone had different interests.

Theo caught on to her ploy quickly. Ever witty, at least in her eyes, he immediately turned everything back around on the student run pub. She really didn’t care if they were swiftly booted from the establishment for the remainder of the year. It would be worth it. The poor waitress didn’t seem to know how to handle the situation, and Theo’s booming and charmed voice only added to it as he teetered on top of his stool. Stoney faced and serious, Tilly stood as well, though stayed off of the stool. She didn’t trust hers from falling and sending her back to the Hospital Wing with more broken teeth.

As Theo made his extraordinary statement, she held her phone up with the picture of the flobberworm next to the lettuce. ”And if it wasn’t supposed to be in there, I’ll be contacting the health department!” she yelled at equal volume, sans Sonorus. The waitress seemed perplexed by it all, embarrassed and trying to get Theo down. She didn’t even look at Tilly when the false claim was continued. The funny part about all of it was that only those at the tables closest to them actually turned and looked. While both of them had been loud, it didn’t break through the music or the cacophony of various conversations happening throughout the pub. With Theo distracted by his proclamation and the server, Tilly snagged his spiked butterbeer and drained the rest of it, finally getting the last of the flobberworm taste out of her mouth.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

SNORTING DERISIVELY, THEO ROLLED HIS EYES at Tilly's fervent since of monetary justice. "What are you, his lawyer?" He teased her, though he supposed Peter deserved something. The thought came and went in a single minded shot as he shook his head and poked Tilly in the side tauntingly. "Copland gets to talk about tits, and piss off the HoM proff." Theo clarified, remembering absently that Tilly was, after all, just a girl.

He rocked from side to side, considering her opinion with an almost comical severity. "It's not a secret," He clarified, though that was perhaps a half lie. "It's just... sensitive information." Peter Copland had a way of getting embarrassed when faced with an actual human girl, he thought if Tilly mentioned his proficiency in nude-creature illustrations, he might pop one off on sight, or faint. Theo decided that Tilly might just have to face that reality all on her own. In his experience, she didn't take well to being told not to do something.

Wobbling on his stool-shaped stage, Theo addressed the room of pub-goers with a pretty decent Sonorus - if he did say so himself. With a quick look down at Tilly, Theo felt the thrill bubble in his belly as she immediately met his energy with her own expression of severity, slamming his remaining spiked butterbeer in a oner, to his utter glee. He kicked his leg out, trying to shake off the server and nearly landed flat on the ground. He banged on the table instead, and hopped down as he pulled his wand away from his throat. Tilly took the floor next, and Theo shouted his agreement with an accompanying pump of his fist.

At this point, the server looked about ready to burst, and another worker had come to join her with their arms crossed. From somewhere near the back, though, Theo suddenly heard a voice in the lull. "Hey, isn't that Professor Weasley's ;Flobberworm Salad' assignment?" And Theo's face stretched into an involuntary cringe as the knut dropped for the room and a hand clamped hard on his robed shoulder.

"Right, you two, I've had just about enough of these... shenanigans!" The manager crowed, a gnarly looking witch with a very large nose and half-moon glasses. "Just you wait until I see Mr. Weasley myself!" He collapsed into a grumbling of 'miscreant children' and 'disrespectful creature-sympathisers'.

Theo took their distraction as a perfect opportunity to duck out from under their grip and dash around the table away from them. "Tilly- save yourself!" He cackled maniacally and bent daringly over the table as the cranky manager dodged a left and right, trying to recapture him. The servers looked peeved, but at least one made to grab for Tilly and her magimobile. He toppled a chair and hopped over another table, scattering glasses and drinks in a cascade of exclamations and protestations. "It was for extra credit!" He defended, face red and panting as he lapped the room. "We're innocent!"

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With the way Theo was being evasive, Tilly was starting to wonder if Copeland simply had a fetish for troll women. It was obviously all fun and games for the rest of the boys, especially when they each had their own scraps of paper to do unimaginable horrors to. The more she thought about it too, she couldn’t even recall when she’d last spoken to Peter. If ever. She was so caught up in her own little world that it made sense. Quidditch and troll nudies didn’t really line up next to each other at the yearly club promotion event. She decided to leave it at that though, as there were way more interesting things going on right now.

The sudden crash as Theo toppled off the chair and onto the table, before ultimately landing on the ground, was an impressive feat of failed athleticism. She could have done it all in one flourish. Theo looked like an erumpent calf trying to walk for the first time, barely managing to get himself down without breaking his neck on the floor. They seemed to be the only two that were crazy enough to care about what they had just started. If they were going to go all in, it may as well be over this. The realization from the crowd that they were attempting the ‘challenge’ seemed to win a few hearts, though not for long. Before Tilly could yell about how flobberworm blood had been spilt today, she turned to see the manager of the pub latch herself onto Theo.

Tilly’s face blanched as she realized the jig was up. Her companion seemed to agree, and despite being caught, told her to bolt before yelling out his pleas. Phone in hand and eyes darting between the numerous employees that had now arrived, Tilly turned and took off. She held her phone out in front of her face as she pushed through the crowd, making sure everyone that was looking at her would get a good view of the picture of her chowing down on the flobberworm. If they hadn’t already seen her eat it, they had now. Stopping in front of one table occupied by sixth year girls, she slammed her phone onto the table, ”Did you check your salads? You may have unknowingly eaten one too!” she yelled before running off again towards the exit. If she had stayed any longer, she would have seen the sudden lurch of vomit coming from the blonde Ravenclaw that had been seated at the table. The chain reaction of sympathizing hurlers was not a pretty sight at all.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

THE CRANKY BAR MANAGER MIGHT HAVE LOOKED ancient, but she didn't move like an ancient. Theo felt her hot on his heels as he dashed between tables, pushing over glasses and slamming his hand into plates of food as he played a very dangerous game of 'tag' with the physical embodiment of an angry minitour. Lapping the room, Theo felt the barest hint of fingers scrambling at his hair before he managed to turn and sprint toward the exit.

"Beware the Flobberworm Salad!" Theo hooted between breaths, laughing uproariously as Tilly ran up ahead, stopping intermittently to show her prized picture and warn as many unknowing patrons as possible. Eventually, she made for the exit, and Theo felt his panic rise as she was but a blur of brown hair and dark robes and he was seconds away from being served on a platter for tea. He volleyed over a table, nearly kicked another student in the head, and eventually grabbed the exit door before it swung closed at Tilly's back.

Once the door closed, Theo felt a rush of relief, but he didn't stop. He followed Tilly's tail down the corridors, swerving in case anybody had the forethought to cast a binding spell at either of them. "Should... we... split up?" Theo panted, that same gleeful look on his face as they turned a corner and could finally stop for breath. Theo bent at the waste, holding his side briefly as a stitch stabbed into the muscle. "Salazar, that was a laugh." He shook out his hair and slumped against the nearest wall, nearly offended the painting that hung there when he elbowed the gilt frame. "Apologies..." He muttered, eyes fluttering closed as he caught his breath. 

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A clatter arose in the pub behind her, but she didn’t dare turn around to see what was happening. Whether it be students getting sick all over their tables or Theo’s hijinks, getting out was the plan right now. Otherwise she was going to be within reach of the manager, who was currently trying to manhandle her friend. They were going to be in trouble regardless now, but she wanted to make a clean escape because it sounded cooler when her classmates started to retell it. Going down in infamy as the Quidditch player that ate a live flobberworm sounded pretty awesome to her.

The hallway outside of the pub was deathly quiet, save for when the door popped open behind her. That had to be Theo, but she didn’t look over her shoulder as she sprinted around a few bends. The hope was that it would be far enough to shake off their pursuers. Eventually, she came to a stop and felt Theo almost run into her back. It was sort of impressive that he had managed to keep up with her. The deep panting only proved that he had been giving it his all.

Tilly patted him on the shoulder as he leaned over to try and catch his breath. ”Nah, we should be fine now. We’ll probably get detention for it…but it was totally worth it,” she grinned, despite him not being able to see it. Walking with her hands interlocked behind her head, Tilly took a few long, even inhales and exhales, getting her own breathing under control. Going from slugging a flobberworm down her throat to this was definitely different. She as amazed it hadn’t come back up as she ran. ”You really know how to sell it,” Tilly stated as she found a free spot on the wall next to him. The portrait Theo had bumped glared at her as well, and she stuck her tongue out at it. It made a noise of disgust at the two of them before exiting its portrait, disappearing off into a neighbor’s to most likely gossip about the fifth years.

She held her hand out for a low five, their resounding victory of disturbing the entire pub completed. ”Think they’ll let us back in by the time we graduate?” she asked, turning to see if he was still struggling to catch his breath. ”You beaters really need to work out more,” Tilly commented. Her own were the same way. All muscle-brained and cardio-adverse.

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