Louis ignores him. “Hi, Harry,” he greets loudly. “How are you today?”
He’s talking to a frog. Harry doesn’t know what to make of that.
“Louis, you know it’s not going to reply to you, right?”
“Shut up, Harold, I’m trying to listen to what Harry’s saying.” He puts his ear to the glass, as if trying to listen to what the frog’s saying. “Are you having a nice day?”
It’s obvious that he’s just doing this to rile Harry up, but Harry can’t help but get riled up anyway.
“Louis,” he says. “It’s a frog.”
The frog suddenly croaks, like it’s trying to argue with Harry about its frog-ness. He loses, of course, because he is a frog. Harry knows these things, since Harry is human, and not a frog.
“His name is Harry,” Louis corrects, haughtily. “Stop disrespecting him.”
“You named him after me.”
“All frogs are named after you,” Louis replies matter-of-factly. “It’s `cause you look like all the frogs.”
He’s a complete nutjob. Harry resists the urge to smack him.
Harry decides to change tactics. Louis can be incredibly bullheaded about things like this, and he knows from experience that Louis can argue about a point for hours, for no other reason except that he ‘just felt like it’. “Does this make me Harry number one, then?”
“No,” Louis replies. He’s still got his ears pressed to the glass of the cage, and he looks silly. “you’re Harry number five.”
“Yeah,” Louis answers. “Prince Harry, Harry Potter, Harry Osbourne from Spiderman, Harry over here, and then you.”
Harry crosses his arms. “Why does the frog that was named after me come before me?”
“He doesn’t talk as much as you,” Louis says dismissively.
Harry hates him so much.