Greg took a sip now as he sat back, "The grounds keeper job deals with the animals in the Forbidden Forest, and I guess helps the professor who runs those animal classes, if need be. I won't be a professor," and for the moment, Greg's mood lifted as he snorted at the notion, "Can you imagine me as a professor?! That's a fucking laugh."
But even as he stopped, Greg watched Draco carefully. He couldn't tell if his friend was lying to him or not; it had been so long since he'd even seen Draco and he felt out of practice at knowing or interpreting what he was seeing. In Azkaban, it was just best to think everyone was lying to you, or out to get something over on you; it had been an exhausting existence.
"I don't know if you made a deal with Potter or not, Draco. But covering your own ass seems a fair explanation of it, I guess," he said, but Greg wasn't sure if he was really satisfied with the answer. He did, however, very much want to believe the best of his old friend and so he decided to let it suffice.
At Draco's last comments, Greg could only shrug, "Yeah, well. It could have been worse. No dementors. None. Zip. So, it wasn't like it was, back when your dad got thrown in there. There were some old timers there who talked. They made it sound like a damn amusement park without those fuckers about."
And at this point, Greg took the glass and drained it, and then looked at the fine crystal cut and held it out to Draco, expecting him to fill it up, "So, forget about it. The thing I need help with now is Theo. I got to get him the fuck out of there, and soon. I swear that fucking place is making him crazier."