"The center takes in retired racetrack horses," he said, thoughts drifting back to crossing paths with Weasley last week. "They still like to run so Stephen and I will occasionally race after everyone has finished for the day. This time I lost. Last time he had to buy all my drinks. And I felt very top shelf that night."
The tab had been atrocious, but a wager was a wager and Stephen didn't hurt for money. His grandmother had left him her flat so he didn't have things like rent to worry about. And neither of them said so, but Theodore thought that maybe Stephen had held back just enough and lost on purpose. Ordering expensive drinks had been retribution.
He never said it outright, but after almost eight years, he still didn't want charity from anyone.
Glancing over at Tracey, Theodore shook his head. "You weren't terrible. You were exactly what I needed and wanted. And it wasn't like there had been many opportunities to play music between classes. I was more interested in tucking away in a cupboard with you."
He watched her toss back the shot and then smiled, reaching for his own. "I've been here a good hour already, Tracey. I already started with liquor before you got here. I can hold my own," he said, a note of a challenge in his voice.