Instead, I did the thing I don’t really do anymore. I had a drink. It couldn’t hurt - it was nearing 7 PM on a Thursday and I knew I had a long night alone ahead of me. I gulped it down in two swigs and winced lightly at the burn in my mouth. A long night of nothing but hearing the unrelenting rain pounding on the roof lay ahead of me. It was just usually a glass of wine at dinner, or a butterbeer at a Quidditch match. But here I was drinking alone, in the dark. It had been a while since I’d done that, but I didn’t think one night would unravel much of anything. It was fine.