Eward blinked at Harry as he entered, lying on his stomach with red eyes, sheets dangerously low on his back and his black hair stuck up on end. Oh so graceful were the upper classes of England! "I did not... go in his cellar. I got his servant girl to do it for me," Eward said in strong protest, rolling over and placing a hand on his head to block the light filtering from the curtains. He couldn't remember anything past toppling into bed with the girl Harry'd sent to him, but everything before was clear as day.
"Sod it. What time is it?" he asked, sitting up with difficulty. He could feel all the blood rushing through his body and it was not a pleasant experience. "I am positively famished, is it lunchtime?"