"Your decision? Merlin, Draco, you're barely able to stand, let alone make any sort of decision. And your decisions lately haven't exactly been wise choices even when sober, so no. I think I'll hang onto this, while you bloody well sober up and sort yourself out," Nymphadora said firmly, and Draco lurched his head up, staring at her through bleary eyes. She shook her head sadly, and turned her back on him; wand held loosely in one hand, precious bottle of port dangling from the other.