Who: Terry Boot and Dean Thomas What: Being suave and cool. Or, you know, thinking they are. Where: Soho, London When: Late Thursday night, December 23, 1998 Rating: PG-13: they talk a big game, but let's see if they actually HAVE any game...
"Now, Deano," Terry began plopping across from Dean in a booth. Terry paused to take a long drink of his pint, looking out at the crowded bar. Large booth just BEGGING for girls to sit down in: check. Pregamed at home, so a mild buzz already achieved: check. Wingman: check. Looking fly: uh, that didn't even need to make the checklist.
The only think that sucked was that this was a Muggle bar. Girls loved war heroes. In Muggleland, though, Terry was just a guy down a kidney. Suck.
Clearly, he would have to rely on his incredible charm.
"Now," Terry repeated, trying to look extra-suave, sucking in his cheeks and giving a girl nearby a cool, half-nod, "tonight? Tonight is a night of promise, D to the T. A promise! A promise...of booty." He pointed out towards the pub at large. "Booty."