The liquor cabinet – her eyes fall on it by chance, but stay locked to it, sharp. Barefoot she paces over, crouching down and pulling at the door. It's locked, and she swears softly in frustration. There is nothing she would like more right now than a drink, to douse the embers of resentment and anger that smoulder in her. It takes her over an hour by the clock to jimmy the door open with a sturdy shoehorn she found in the back of Malfoy's wardrobe. Hermione doesn't mind that it takes so long; she's glad, in fact. It helps her fill in the time instead of sitting and dwelling on the inevitable. And when she achieves success, she has firewhiskey to help distract her further. It's a win/win situation for her.