The train took a turn, not hard but at enough of an angle that Harry's balance shifted and his shoe, wet with snow, slipped from the edge of his cart. More graceful on a broom than on land, Harry wasn't helped by the alcohol dulling certain senses too. Reflexively, he dropped his hands to the nearest thing available to give him balance - Effy's hips - before his foot found the bottom of his cart. "Merlin's-- Sorry," he laughed.