"If you're gonna drink, then you should eat. Don't you know that's Drinking Rule #1?" he frowned, putting a basket of fries in front of her.
"I don't even drink that much," she protested, popping a fry in her mouth. She inhaled sharply then hissed. "Hot, hot, hot."
"No matter how little you drink, you should still eat. Kitchen whipped it up for you."
She eyed the fries dubiously. "You mean they whipped it up for you."
He shrugged as he got out a small towel to dry the glasses. "Old ladies have always had a soft spot for me."
"That simply isn't true," she huffed. "Remember, McGonagall?"
He scoffed. "McGonagall never liked anyone. I'd be surprised if she ever gets married with that stick up her ass."
"Well of course you'd say that," she said, swirling her whiskey. "You were the bane of every teacher's existence."
"Not yours?"
"Especially mine's," she glowered. "If I didn't know any better, I would've thought you were in love with me."
She expected a witty retort to that but, there was a pause. Her eyes darted to his but he wasn't looking at her. His expression was thoughtful as he thought back to a memory that she couldn't quite see.
She threw a fry at him. "Are you listening to me?"
He scowled as the fry landed in one of the clean cups. "Since when is it my job to listen to you?"
Hermione smiled brilliantly. "Well, you're the barkeep aren't you?"