Greg had braved going up to get himself a drink, pleased when it turned out to be a really passable kind of lager. Still not quite like the pubs back home, but it was better than anything he figured he'd get in a magic place. It wasn't butterbeer, at least, thank Merlin.
He was still hanging around the outskirts of the growing group, a little uncertain as more people kept showing up, and he caught someone else who seemed as stiff as he felt. Wasn't no mistaking the shade of red hair on his head, and Greg only remembered one Weasley who ever wore glasses. Still, he hadn't known this Weasley all that well, just that he was Head Boy one year and everyone made fun of him for being a prat and all. Seemed a lot older now, which Greg couldn't help but find a relief. Nice to run into someone who wasn't younger than they should have been.
He blinked in surprise when Weasley's eyes turned his way. He flashed a tiny, uncertain smile, but was still caught off guard when Weasley spoke.
Greg cleared his throat, ambling towards him and stretching out a hand. Manners, all that. "Weasley," he said. "Call me Greg. Goyle makes me feel like my dad's here. I didn't know you was here. Guess your whole family's mostly around somewhere."