He was already half-pissed, that much Minerva could tell just by looking at the bloke's eyes. She scoffed, then shook her head. What was it with some wizards?
"It's your funeral," she said, shrugging then sipped her own pint, enjoying the bitter, clean taste of it.
Minerva thought that was the last of the conversation when the wizard said another thing to her. She looked at him over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? And what was last night that is much worse than getting pissed on firewhiskey and ale? Tequila?" Minerva smirked, knowing how bad getting drunk on that stuff was like.