I've began a new sport, which I recommend to anyone who reads this. All it requires is a knife and fork, Quentin, and the most outrageous French accent you can muster. It's immensely fun to see the git squealing like a pig whenever silly little me starts yelling "I ezz in ze mood for some frrog legs!" while brandishing the cutlery. Besides, the few minutes you spend running after him are good exercise, which means it's both funny and healthy.
Well, until McGonagall finds out, anyway.
Now, all I need is a name for this sport. Froggy Tag? Screaming Oakby?