"It's noise and people, " Rich replied with a brief shrug. "Today was a mountain if paperwork in the office. Goes with the job but doesn't mean I like it."
Goyle was his name, that was it. Greg. Not the pudge he'd been in school, either. Had an inch or so on him, and maybe a stone or three too. Hard to tell, but the man did look solid. Rich was a firm believer in the old adage, "Be polite to everybody, but have a plan to kill them instantly if the need arises." He'd never managed to put the wartime paranoia to rest, and this was a Slytherin of suspect past if he remembered correctly.
"Half and half, or a black and tan if you want the less politically correct name. Lighter lager floated on a stout. Newcastle on Guineas in this case. Sweetens the dark but still has some substance. If you've a steady hand, you get both on one swallow without stirring them up beforehand. Suppose it's an acquired taste. Buy you one if you'd care to give it a try."