Clearing one's throat would hardly get Samuel's attention. For all the Shopkeeper knew, the young man needed a cough drop. And this was no hospital wing so he would have to look elsewhere for that as he continued scrubbing the glass with his rag until another customer showed up.

Now Samuel had no choice but to whip the rag back over his shoulder to take the ID from the other young man. Pointedly looking towards the one with a bad throat before returning the ID.

He then reached for one of the bottles from the shelf before pouring the firewhiskey into the glass before laying down the cracked plate with the roast beef sandwich. "Three galleons and two sickles." Now was the other one going to order or not?