Blowing on another pastry, Barty considered it carefully then cooled it a little more with magic. Popping it into his mouth, he looked over at Evan again, rather amused. Really, Barty always liked Evan's cooking. And he was quite easily able to just pop the little suckers into his mouth. And while in a kitchen that smelled of great food, it was necessary to eat something. "An O for flavor," Barty replied slowly, "But a P for number. You didn't make enough of them." Really, there were going to be three of them at dinner. Theodore was a skinny boy, but Barty was skinny, and he ate loads.
Evan had put the chicken in the oven, and that took time. Barty knew how to cook a chicken, even if it weren't as tasty. That took time. Coming up behind Evan again, his hands went to the hips and started sliding down. "Sooo," Barty bit his shoulder.