"You can have my drink when flirting with the bartender gets you a better one," Ginny told him, smirking at him. "Till then, you can just pout at the fact that you're drinking with a skinny, freckled redhead who gets better drinks than you."
She sipped at the alcohol a little more slowly than she'd downed her mixed drinks. It tasted sort of like raspberries. "So what's the deal, Blaise Zabini? Why'd you want to come drinking with a virtual stranger instead of spending time with your fiance and kid?"