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"So what will it be deary?"

Cho smiled at the landlady of the Three Broomsticks. She really liked how Madam Rosemerta ran the establishment. The students could hang around drinking their non-alcoholic beverages and still manage to feel pretty sauve. Of course, at the heart of the matter, Cho really loved the Three Broomsticks for its butterbeer. Even once she was old enough to drink legally, she'd still love a good warm butterbeer. Plus her father had started letting her drink champange on New Years when she was thirteen. Nasty stuff.

"A Butterbeer, please, Madam Rosemerta."

"Coming right up deary."

A few seconds later, Cho had a Butterbeer clasped in her slender hands. She ran her finger around the rim of the mug for a second, as she suddenly realized this was her last year at Hogwarts. After this year there wouldn't be any more Hogsmeade Weekends. She'd be either training as an auror, or working if her application was rejected. If she was working she could always apperate to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer. But she wasn't going to be rejected. She'd be an auror someday, even if it killed her. Well, ok, maybe not that extreme.

Letting go of the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Cho raised the tankard of butterbeer to her lips and took a sip. Yes, it was just like she remembered. Sure, she'd had butterbeer over the summer, but there was just something about sitting in the Three Broomsticks that made this butterbeer all the more better. Setting the mug back down on the smooth top of the bar, Cho wondered what her parents had drunk in their school days in China. She had the vague notion that butterbeer was a primarily Bristish drink.

She was so caught up in her musing that she didn't notice when someone sat down next to her.

Cho was about to take another sip from her butterbeer when she heard a soft groan from the person next to her. A groan very similar to ones she'd heard when one of her second cousins twice removed (or something like that) got involved in a game of Jiuling with of of her great uncles. Not smart. Especially since they were using Maotai. Circe, her cousin had dropped like a rock after tossing back only five shots.

A second after the groan, Cho felt someone else's hips hit hers. Having not expected the sudden contract, Cho almost spilled her butterbeer down the front of her sweater. A quick tilt of her wrist kept that from happening. Thank goodness for split second reaction. Glancing over at the person next to her, Cho noticed that he had his head down on his arms. She couldn't for the life of her recall who it was.

Realizing the guy must not be feeling well, she grew a bit concerned and reached out to touch him lightly on the shoulder.

"Hey, are you all right?"

“Yea, too many butterbeers in too short a time, me thinks. Then the dancing. That was a bad idea.”

Hmm... an Irish accent, Cho though. Of course he could just be drunk enough for a French accent to turn into an Irish one. He sounded Irish enough though. That still didn't really help her in identifying him. And after flopping his head down on his arms, it was quite difficult to see his face through the mop of hair that had fallen in his eyes. That, and Cho doubted she recongnize one of her friends if he or she looked as ready to keel over as this guy did.

“Do I know ye?”

Well, either he was too pissed to be able to see her clearly or he wasn't a Ravenclaw. Probably both, as pretty much everyone at least knew her from quidditch. How many butterbeers had the poor lad had? Frankly, she didn't want to have to out right say, 'Nope, have no clue who you are.' Maybe a few well planned out statements would help him come to a conclusion. Unless he was a transfer student. But no, who would transfer to Hogwarts when so many transfered away?

"Well, I don't think I know you, but you've probably seen me play quidditch."