WHEN YOU SEE THIS, SHARE A FEW RANDOM LINES FROM A WIP
At least the Scotch was good. Harry should know. He was halfway through his third refill now. Or was it fourth? After some internal debate, he decided that the drink shared with the Dean before the party began didn’t count. Third refill then. He took another slightly larger sip as he began to despair of this party ever ending. So far, it had been a total waste of time which wasn’t unusual; these events usually were after all, but he reminded himself that he wasn’t here to be entertained. This was work.