            Nerves fluttered a bit in her stomach as she sprawled out on her bed, letting her muscles relax into the mattress. Parties in the Gryffindor common room usually hadn’t ended well, at least for her. And this one, hosted by Ron, would likely be the same crowd. Hermione had little hope that her peers had matured very much in the months since school. Even a war could not satiate most of her friends and acquaintances’ appetite for a raucous party. If the stories Ginny and Harry told about the parties they attended were true, then half the crowd would be blackout drunk on fire whiskey before the new year even started.