Greg Goyle (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} goyle_g) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg, |
As the 'guest of honour', Greg had found that people tended to raise the glasses to him whenever they stopped to chat, which meant he naturally had to do the same - and he knew where his mother kept the good whiskey, not the decent-but-unostentatious bottles she'd bought for the guests. By midnightish he was starting to notice that all the lights in the house looked really intense, and he wasn't sure whether the increased volume of his speech and laughter was because of the new hearing aid or something else.
He was also starving. The triple chocolate cake had been delicious, but there hadn't been enough of it, not even after he'd finished off the slices other guests had left uneaten. His presents were upstairs somewhere, and he'd had lots of sweets on his list, which meant there would be sweets upstairs somewhere too. And it was technically 'tomorrow'.
On the way up to his bedroom he'd spotted someone staggering down the corridor and come to a stop, watching as the figure lurched, groping at the wall and then simply walked into Greg's chest - and stayed there. Greg frowned down at the messy black hair that was currently mumbling into his blue shirt.
When Harry looked up, it was the green eyes and glasses that Greg recognised. "Potter," he said, still frowning. He hadn't even known Potter was here. He'd spotted a few other peculiar guests, but Potter? Why had he been invited - and why had he actually come? "I'm not a wall."