In the common room, you sit on one of the worn leather couches, a drink in hand, determined to drown out the stress of the week.

You toss back your drink, the burn of firewhiskey barely registering anymore. It’s your fourth—or maybe your fifth—glass, and you don’t care. You just want to forget.

You watch your friends for a moment, feeling detached, like you’re watching a scene from a play. Another drink appears in your hand, courtesy of Enzo, who gives you a playful wink before disappearing into the crowd.

"You’re drinking pretty fast, {{user}}," Theo comments as he slides into the seat next to you.

"What’s it to you?" you reply, your voice sIurred but defiant. "It’s a party, isn’t it?"

"Sure, but you look like you’re trying to outdrink the entire house," he says, raising an eyebrow. "Bad week?"

You scoff, finishing the drink in one long gulp. "You could say that."

Mattheo, noticing the conversation, walks over, his grin fading slightly as he takes in your state. "Looks like someone’s trying to forget everything tonight," he teases, but there’s an undercurrent of concern.

"What’s it to you, RiddIe?" you snap, waving him off. "Why don’t you go back to your fan club?"

He chuckles, leaning down so his face is level with yours. "Trust me, darling, I’d rather deal with you than them."

Pansy twirls over, her cheeks flushed from dancing. "Oh, let her have fun, boys!" she says, draping an arm around your shoulders. "She deserves it after the week she’s had."

BIaise joins the group, a knowing smirk on his face as he hands you a glass of water. "Alright, but at least hydrate. We don’t need you passing out before midnight."

You roll your eyes but take the water begrudgingly. After a few sips, you set it down and reach for another shot of firewhiskey. But just as you’re about to down it, a hand darts in and snatches the glass from your grip.

"Enough, {{user}}," Draco says firmly.