Maybe it was the foreignness, or maybe it was the magical upbringing… ness, but for whatever reason, interactions with Dmitry were always ridiculously adorable. It seemed to Tycho that this was a recurring theme, but he did his best not to laugh at the younger boy. He wanted nothing more in the world than for “Yeety” to bring magical success, but alas, there was little result. He was about to offer consolation when Dmitry asked a good question.
“Ummm, not especially?” Tycho answered, racking his brain for any other examples of name-based slang. “You probably wouldn’t be talking to Kobe himself, though. It’s not a common name or anything. This is like the Kobe who’s famous for playing basketball. That’s a Muggle sport,” he added, for clarification, realizing Dmitry might not know. That concept was still so insane, that magical kids might not know something as integral and common as basketball, but it was the reality, and he did his best to account for it.
“Oh, wait, wait! I thought of another name one!” Tycho exclaimed as the thought occurred to him. He aimed his wand and incanted in one fell swoop: “Bye, Felicia!” The quill performed its best yet, perhaps spurred by the forceful enthusiasm: it did not fly across the room, but it did push off with enough force to fall off the table. “Hell yes!” Tycho screamed, then burst into an ocean of cackles.