Finally, Greg's expression cleared. There was a bakery in Diagon Alley. It was just a little bit further on than the shop, and if he stopped there on his way back he could easily finish off a pastry before going back to work. He wouldn't even have to be late, probably.
"You said that already," he pointed out when she reminded him again of her name. Now that his worries were eased, he was able to read the repetition as a prompt for his own manners - such as they were. "I'm Goyle." Only his friends called him Greg and this girl, though she'd helped him, wasn't anywhere close to that yet. Life might have been easier for him if he'd used just his first name when he could get away with it - but deception had never come easily to Greg unprompted and no one had yet told him to stop presenting his surname first and foremost. It would be useless anyway - the kind of people who cared were going to find out one way or another.