"Seriously, mate," he clapped Cass on the shoulder and was grinning. "I'll put it up above the bed. I'm sure Daphne will just love it," he chuckled.
He nodded, really wondering what he could say to Cass about his work that wasn't going to get himself incriminated. Fuck. But then he said Mrs Malfoy's sister had been murdered, and he blinked in genuine surprise. "Oh dear, I'll have to write to Draco, and his mother - offer up my condolences." He took a long sip of his drink, glad he wasn't wanting to talk about it any more.
"Oh you know, been busy. The pub is keeping me off the streets and out of jail. And testing brooms. Business is... listen to me, talking about this shit. Yeah, I've been doing responsible things. Fuck, I'm too old for all this," he smirked.
"What happened to the days we could go out and just get plastered. Now my wife has to organise play dates with my friends so we can get plastered in my own home." He snorted, but grinned.