            Hermione glanced behind him at the simple, silver bar cart, noting a matching glass. She imagined the whiskey sliding down her throat, scorching all the way down. Hermione had never cared for the taste, even if it sounded remarkably pleasant right now. Right  now, though, with the way he was gazing at her, the way she had just stumbled in uninvited, the way she had left a row with her boyfriend to visit another man’s house...it wasn’t right. Or it was, and her mind was too afraid to agree. Hermione offered Lucius another smile instead. "Another time," she said softly, before turning on her heel.