He ignores her, eyes trained on a place far away. "I was always closest with Blaise. That's why I just took him. I wanted a place just for us, maybe. I did everything there. I was happy there, and I talked to him there, more than I ever talked to him in school. I told him about my marking ceremony there. I drank there, for the first time, and threw up after for the first time," He smiles at the memory, like it's particularly fond, then tells her, "the wine cellar was never locked, I guess father or whoever was staying there before us just forgot one day and no one ever locked it again. Blaise figured it out maybe the second time we went, gave a big shout -- I thought he'd died -- but no, he came up the stairs, holding his bottle above his head like it was the Holy Grail, and after that we just never stopped. That sounds sad, like we were alcoholics." He shakes his head, "No. Just teenagers."