Rivers. The name meant nothing to him, which probably meant Stacey was halfblood or muggleborn or, at the very least, not the kind of pureblood Greg was used to. He was supposed to be fine with that now - which was strange after he'd been told muggleborns were good for nothing most of his life. His mum hadn't outright said that he was supposed to be nice to them, but he wasn't allowed to use the world mudblood or complain that the Ministry was too soft. So, where he once would have stopped walking with Stacey immediately, he just sort of shrugged.
"Pinky?" He caught the gesture out of the corner of his eye but wasn't quick enough to make the connection. It sounded like a stupid nickname to him. It didn't sound anything like her name. "Stacey's fine." The passed through the passage into Diagon Alley and Greg pointed in the direction of the baker's shop. "It's up there."