At the knock on his door, Greer moved from his kitchen - where he was sipping at a cocktail and reading through the day's Daily Prophet - to answer it. He'd gotten home from practice and hopped in the shower, his hair was still wet and he'd only bothered to throw on a pair of lounger pants that hung loosely on his hips. Opening the door to his flat, he looked Daphne up and down - a trench coat, how... cliched, and dramatic. He gave her a smirk, "A trench?" and stepped back from the door to allow her entrance.
"Something to drink?" he asked, looking back to the kitchen.