Tucker never said no to food. Ever. Even when he was sick, he was wanting food. Food was, after all, life. Not even in some poetic way, but in the reality of needing food if you wanted the energy to do things. Like eat. So, the suggestion of going to the kitchens wasn't a difficult decision for him to think on. 

Honestly, the House Elves were the best. Every since he and Mai had figured out how to get into the kitchen, he'd thought they were the best part of the whole school because they made the most amazing food. Like these sandwiches. He was picking through the stack, debating on a roast beef or a turkey before he decided that it was only fair and right to have a roast beef, a turkey, and a ham; t'would be a shame to leave a sandwich feeling unwanted, after all.

Setting his now overly full plate down, he was fiddling with the mustards and the mayos and deciding on the right portions of each for the various meats when Lizzie asked him her question. Looking up at her, his brows knit in confusion, he lowered the mustard knife. "What? I don't right know what you're talking about," he informed her. He was, after all, working on sandwiches.Â