"Spinnet, explain t'this wanker how I'm an upstanding member of society and... shit like that," Michael said. He lost track of what he'd been about to say halfway through because hello, more drinks. Assuming that Dingle was going to give them something disgusting, he knocked back the shot and coughed anyway: he hadn't heard Dingle order and had assumed it was something nasty-tasting, but instead he tasted cream and sweetness on his tongue. Still fitting that a Slytherin had served it to them, because Michael's only requirement for alcohol was that it wasn't sweet. That was just wrong. If you were going to drink liquor you should taste it.
Dutifully he picked up the other one and drained it with a flourish, before standing up. The room wavered a bit but he got his balance. "I'll show you shitty cheap drinks. We're gonna get pissed, we'll do this properly." He loped off toward the bar to fetch their next round.