"Yes, his soft-eyed Irish charm is so hard to resist. He'd better not have." He gave her a hard look, as though he could send it through her, but relented as he stood and hung his arm over her shoulders. "My treat. It sounds like you've gone to quite a lot of trouble." And he was only a little worried. "I'm still sorting through contenders, you know - I haven't forgotten, even if I'm not conspiring with your friends." Maybe he should start conspiring with her friends. That was a thought. He took the butterbeer and headed up, checking the time. They had a while before the game he cared about.