"It was a good numbing charm," Draco said, shifting the focus off himself and onto Longbottom, who flushed with pride. Draco slumped down in his seat and stared out past the wards that hid the house from view, onto the empty Muggle street, lit at intervals by golden puddles of light from the street lamps. His beer was odd tasting – he far preferred the rich burn of firewhiskey, but it was making his head pleasantly muzzy even as it stung his tongue. The healers hadn’t had the time or the energy to spare mending minor wounds tonight.