George's eyes went wide when he realized someone was talking to him. Turning his head, he was met with a sneer that could only belong to a Slytherin. His intoxicated state left him unable to respond for a moment or tw until he sorted out just which one it belonged to.
"Ah, Daphne," He finally settled on, offering the girl the best smile he could muster at the moment. "I'd know that shrill, irritating voice anywhere."
He looked back to his mug, which he was surprised to find empty all ready. "I've only had enough when I've lost count. So far I've had three. Four. Maybe five or six. But three for sure since I've been here, so I think I could handle at least one more."