"Firewhiskey is vile. If I wanted to punish my body I can think of much more fun ways." He took a drink of the juice, and made a satisfied sound. He didn't drink it often, but it was good.
"Stew. I'll have to complain to management. This resort is really falling short." It was a familiar, lame joke. But it was easy to slip into the role, and maybe he could turn that hint of a smile into something wider if he kept trying.
"I have to get my entertainment somewhere. And you're better looking than Weasley."