Roger took a champagne flute off of a passing tray almost as soon as he walked through the door. The bosses seemed to be under the impression that Roger might be able to get some sales taken care of today, but they were idiots. No one here was thinking business. Hell, Roger would be surprised if anyone was even thinking Quidditch, what with the open bar and the ball gowns. It would be a waste of time, he decided as he sidled up to a nice spot near the west wall, the better to watch the masses of well-dressed men and women gathered to drink themselves into a stupor on someone else's dime. If at least three cases of adultery (or the unmarried equivalent) didn't result from tonight, he would be very surprised. The press would have a field day.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and smiled at his new companion.
"Fancy seeing you here," he told Mandy with an exceptionally polite nod. He could just make out her boyfriend in the distance. He was easy to identify, what with the skirt - sorry, kilt. "Is everything looking a little bit... pink to you? Were they too lazy to take down the Valentine's Day decorations, or...? You like nice."