George was always tactile, but once he had a few drinks in him, he was likely to pet anyone within reach. Or anything. Pygmy Puffs were good for that when there wasn't anyone pettable around.
"You're all drunk and unshaven and head-thumped. I could poke you and be across the room before you did anything but say ouch'!" George told him, smirking.
"You. . . go smacked by a bludger that wasn't even aimed at you? You were just in the path?" George snorted with laughter. "That has even less dignity, mate."