Harry, Ron and Neville had apparently been highly impressed by Draco’s bravery during the duelling, and dug out a bottle of finely aged firewhiskey, and toasted him. Recounted what had happened to each other and anyone who went into the dining room, as they got steadily drunker and drunker. She watched from her chair, a heavy book on her lap that she wasn’t reading. It was like some stupid acceptance ritual; nearly get yourself killed with your foolish recklessness, get completely inebriated and talk it up afterwards, and magically become one of the boys.