Harry sensed that he was pressed against something fleshy, and at an awkward angle. Opening his eyes fully, he allowed his gaze to travel downward as he made out the shape of what was clearly the curved body of a woman pressed against him. He saw rather mortifyingly how his pants were down to his ankles; he hadn't even bothered to kick off his shoes before leaping bollocks first into whatever karking mess he had gotten into now. His head was pounding from a raging hangover brought on by way too much goblin wine.