They continued in that vein for some time – or at least, Harry assumed they did. His memory cut out shortly after the fourth glass, and he vaguely recalled Riddle trying to ask him some question or other about Voldemort, but the details were fuzzy. He thought he might have shouted something like, "fuck Voldemort! He doesn’t even have a nose. Do you want to lose your nose? You have a great nose. You should keep it," and "Voldemort sucks so bad. Like, honestly, he’s just the worst. Do you want to be the worst? No. Don’t be Voldemort. I hate that guy." Whatever he said likely made little sense, and he highly doubted Riddle got whatever information he'd been trying to dig for. He didn’t mourn the missing memory, but by the next morning he had ample cause to mourn drinking so much.