Harry had been thoughtlessly but barely shifting his weight from one leg to another. Now that Harry, for what was probably the first time of the evening, had let go of Draco, he almost felt lopsided. Since their arrival, Harry had yet to put his whole weight of the prosthetic, and he figured he could do for a walk.<br/>It was Draco's addition that brought Harry back to their conversation, eyes refocusing on his pretend boyfriend. Harry's expression having gone blank as he tried to settle himself, a grin now reappeared, finding Draco's words genuinely humourous.<br/>"I'll get you one, then," he promised, grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I wanted to get myself something, anyway."<br/>Harry had gone on, meaning it to reassure Draco that an additional wine glass wouldn't be any bother. It was, however, transparently obvious that Harry hadn't even considered the possibility of a waiter taking his drinks order.<br/>Harry parted his lips, intending on asking Draco for his choice of wine; then, almost immediately, Harry swallowed his words, biting down on the inside of his cheek. For a moment, he grinned, crookedly so and unable to help it at the ridicule of it all.<br/>Scowering his mind for a more inconspicuous way of asking, Harry then offered a more weighted: "So what was it - was this the hotel with the<span style="font-style: italic">bad</span>Chardonnay?"