Ron moved to the table, and looked at the tray in his hand.
How the hell did I get a tray in my hand? And what the hell kind of drinks are these? There must be eight of them!
He put it on the table, and picked up one and drank it right down, tipping his head back. He put the glass down and then picked up another, and looked at the others at the table.
"Its a bar special. Its got firewhiskey. They are not too bad. I think he must have had a special on them. Drink up!"
He ignored Ginny's comment about his drinking at the bar but raised he drink instead towards her, raising his eyebrows and giving her a smirk. He felt the alcohol flushing his face, and he slid his chair closer to Hermione and put his arm on the back of her chair. Unseen by the others, his hand snuck up to touch and play with the hair at her back.
"Please, please, ladies, I'm fine. Just a bit of a tussle at the bar. It threw me. They thought I was their old mate. Their old mate from way back but then they bolted, like they saw a ghost. It was the strangest thing."
He was looking at Ginny, and hoped his words were making sense. His brain was starting to get fuzzy as was his judgement. His finger gently grazed the center of Hermione's back, and he started to lean back and slump slightly, beginning to feel the effects of the drink.