Hermione racked her brain for a solution, begging her rapid heartbeat to burn the alcohol out of her system as quickly as possible. But her brain didn’t have many options to offer her as she stood empty-handed next to a toilet. She supposed her best tactic was to stall, and if all else fails– cause a scene. She felt the magic tickle across her skin as spellwork fell into place around them. His magic felt bitter and resentful as it swept the room, coating the walls in what was likely a silencing charm. Certainly, if she could keep the intruder talking long enough, one of the aforementioned overprotective assholes would come to check on her since causing a scene no longer seemed to be an option.  