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While the girl at the end of the bar had come there to drink away her troubles, the group of men in the sitting area were once again breaking out into some Swedish drinking song before taking another shot – clearly a celebration, but for what they didn’t make too clear. Their reason for being there was one particular blonde haired blue eyed Scotsman, who had invited them to his ‘neck of the woods’ as he put it (it lost something when he had to translate…), since he had just recently moved back to Scotland and bought his first flat.

He was excited to be back around his old friends, though not too many people knew he was back just yet. He was having too good of a time celebrating with the boys he had met at Durmstrang to worry about owling people to let them know he was back in town – there would be plenty of time for that, but they were only there for a short while.

“I got the next round.”

His Swedish wasn’t great, but the men all hooped and hollered regardless, and with a grin he turned and sauntered back over to the bar. He waited at the other end of the bar, catching the tender’s attention with a lift of his hand. He waited though, when he saw he was busy tending the girl who was sitting by herself. He watched her curiously, feeling like somehow, in the back of his mind, he knew this girl…he just couldn’t remember from where.

Before he knew it, Albert was standing in front of him.

“Another round, if ya’d please.”

He asked, his words rolling and tilting to suit his lazy brogue, and he’d glance towards the end of the bar, gesturing to her discreetly with a nod of his head, lowering his voice. “And get her one’a whatever she’s having.”