RUPERT: Hey, everyone! What are we doing here, then?
EMMA: Unless you want to tell me I look like a young Ally Sheedy — which would be fine, because I kind of do, not that I am at ALL old enough to understand that reference — then I assume it’s not to talk about me, since that’s been covered already.
DAN: And I assume it’s not to talk about me, because I’m not wearing a giant cat on my t-shirt.
RUPERT: No, but your hair makes you look like a complete git.
EMMA: BOYS.
DAN: It’s okay, Emma. Rupert’s just working through his pain.
RUPERT: My pain, mate?
DAN: See, he’s having trouble saying goodbye to the Harry Potter world, and up to and absolutely including Crookshanks.
EMMA: Hermione’s cat? Wasn’t he only in like two of the movies?
DAN: I’ve no idea. I’m in every single scene except about two. I can’t be expected to remember that.
RUPERT: You people are cracked. Maybe I just like cats. Maybe I just really wanted people not to talk in front of me, so I put a ruddy black cat on my t-shirt, and you DID walk in front of me, so you’re going to get seven years of bad luck and giant spiders and You-Know-Who nightmares and ten afternoons with Grawp and…
EMMA: It’s not REAL, Rupert. None of that is real. You’re not Ron. You aren’t even afraid of spiders.
RUPERT: And I’m not wearing a picture of a cat from the movies. Crookshanks isn’t a black cat, Hermione, everybody knows that.
EMMA: And my name isn’t Hermione.
RUPERT: Crap, it’s not Malfoy with the polyjuice potion, is it? Shall we Stun him, Harry?
DAN: It’s going to be okay, Rupert. Look, you cleaned up much nicer than this for the premiere:
RUPERT: Oh. I did, didn’t I?
EMMA: You did. Well done, Ron. Er, Rupert.
RUPERT: SEE? It’s not just me.
DAN: It’s not. I called Helena “Bellatrix” twice today and tried to send a vase flying at her head.
EMMA: It WILL get better. Just like Rupert did here. He looks almost dishy.
RUPERT: Aw, thanks, Emmione.
EMMA: See? That was much closer to my actual name.
RUPERT: I call it a win, then. Let’s go get schnockered on butterbeer.
DAN: I’m not even going to correct you because I’m secretly hoping they have some at the bar.
EMMA: Amen.
