The Drunken Trio

But as long as you don't give up, there's always a way. Before returning to his room, Ron secretly slipped a bottle of whiskey into his pocket.

This bottle of wine was a kind gift from Mr. Weasley.

"A man should have something a man should drink," Mr. Weasley said. "like this bottle of Scotland Single Malt Whisky—go ahead, but don't let your mother know."

Ron didn't keep this glory to himself; instead, he called Neville and Draco to join him.

"What's all the mystery about?" Draco asked with a sour face.

"You'll see when we get back. We're going to have a contest to see who's the real man," Ron said smugly to Draco.

Draco looked puzzled; he had no idea what Ron was up to.

The party in the Living Room finally came to an end, but Phoebe seemed determined to annoy Mrs. Weasley. She decided to imitate Cetina singing "A Pot Full of Love," and seeing Mrs. Weasley's expression, everyone took it as a signal to go to bed.

Cassandra suppressed a laugh, hooked her arm around Harry's, and pulled him into the room, the washboard scrubbing Harry's arm until it ached.

Meanwhile, Ron, Draco, and Neville quietly went into Ron's room together.

"My dad says men should drink manly stuff," Ron said, taking the whiskey from his pocket and placing it on the bed. "So, Malfoy, how about a contest to see who's the real man?"

"Come on," Draco said dismissively. "Even if you and Longbottom were tied together, neither of you would be a match for me. If brains were made of gold, Longbottom would be poorer than you."

These words were so hurtful that Neville roared.

"Longbottom!" Draco exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing?!"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do!" Neville roared again.

"Shut up!" Ron slapped Neville on the forehead. "Hurry up, let's have a proper match first and shut this Malfoy up—watch closely."

As he spoke, he transformed the three books on his desk into three cups and placed them in front of the three people.

Each person poured themselves a full glass of wine. Then, Ron picked up a glass brimming with wine and said to Draco, "Come on, it's time to see a real man!"

After saying that, he tilted his head back and downed the wine in his glass in one gulp.

Neville followed suit, downing his drink in one gulp, and then began coughing violently due to the alcohol.

Ron also gagged a couple of times, but he seemed to be exceptionally gifted.

"Look at the two of you," Draco smiled confidently.

But he soon regretted his youth. The moment the liquor entered his mouth, the intense dryness and spiciness made him want to spit it out.

However, Weasley and Longbottom swallowed their drinks, and Draco felt he couldn't lose face either.

So, he forced back his tears and swallowed the drink.

Immediately following was a strong urge to S.P.E.W., Draco endured for a long time before finally suppressing it.

"Weren't you so capable just now?" Ron coughed twice. "Why are you such a coward now?"

"Not scared? Who's scared?" Draco slurred.

They remained silent for a long time, and after a few minutes, Neville was the first to break down.

It's not that I want to vomit, it's that I feel the urge to confide in someone.

"I like Luna," he said. "I really like Luna, you know—I was ecstatic when she accepted my invitation to Professor Slughorn's party—but why hasn't she texted me back yet?"

"Maybe it's because you're too dull, Longbottom," Draco said with a smirk.

"Go to hell!" Neville kicked Draco weakly.

"And what about you?" Ron looked at Draco with bleary eyes. "Malfoy, tell us the truth, are you dating that Pansy Parkinson?"

"No, no, how could that be!" Draco waved his hand dismissively and said frankly, "Pansy isn't my type, I'm telling you, she's really not my type—type."

"So what kind of person do you like?" Ron asked, his eyes glazed with drunkenness.

"What kind of person do I like—" Draco slumped back in his chair, pondering for a moment, his already flushed face, stimulated by alcohol, becoming even redder.

"Why are you blushing?" Ron burped. "Just tell me who you like, Malfoy —we've never really gotten along, but we've been teammates in the Dueling Club for years. Tell me who you like, and I'll definitely help you—help you stir things up!"

Draco messed up; he kicked Ron.

"But—" he suddenly paused, "Who do I like?"

As he said this, Draco glanced at the ceiling.

"Don't tell me you don't have someone you like." Ron glanced at him sideways. "Brothers, this is pointless—or if you're too embarrassed to say, let's compromise: what kind of woman do you like?"

"There's nothing wrong with saying that," Draco said without hesitation. "It has to be Pure-blood!"

"Hmm, Pure-blood." Ron nodded. "Anything else? What does he look like?"

"She has to be pretty," Draco said. "I like pretty girls."

"Yes, Pure-blood, and a pretty girl," Ron repeated. "Any other characteristics?"

"You have to be strong," Draco said firmly. "You absolutely can't be a piece of trash."

"Okay, anything else?" Ron asked, looking up.

"You have to play Quidditch well," Draco said, then quickly added, "Even if you're not Slytherin, it'll do."

Ron, his eyes still blurry with drunkenness, stretched out a hand and counted on his fingers for Draco: "I remember them all! Pure-blood,..."

Beautiful, strong, good at Quidditch, doesn't have to be Slytherin—..

At this point, Ron suddenly stopped.

Because he suddenly thought of someone who almost perfectly met Draco's requirements.

The reason I use "almost perfect" instead of "perfect" is because this person is none other than Ron's sister, Ginny Weasley.

"Malfoy!" Ron suddenly roared in grief and rage, "You've set your sights on my sister!"

"No, when did I—" Draco hadn't realized the seriousness of the problem, but Ron's words really opened a new world for him.

this--

This is truly an unexpected path.

Thinking of Ginny's beautiful face, Draco thought it might not be such a bad idea.

Gryffindor is Gryffindor, it's okay, they're a Pure-blood family!

As for the Weasley family poor?

Is this acceptable? Is it a big deal?

Young master, I never look at a woman's family background when I'm looking for her, because none of them are as rich as my family anyway!

Seeing that Draco stopped arguing, he knew perfectly well that Draco might have feelings for his sister.

He roared and, fueled by alcohol, lunged at Draco.

"Malfoy!"

"Wait a minute!" Draco, a little sobered up by Ron's shout, quickly said, "Don't get me wrong, Weasley, your sister has a boyfriend, right? That handsome guy from your school—who's got blood— Dean Thomas, right?"

Upon hearing Draco's words, Ron suddenly choked up.

He dejectedly lowered his fist, which was as big as a sandbag.

It would have been better if Dean Thomas hadn't been mentioned, but once the man was brought up, Ron suddenly thought that Malfoy might not be such a bad option either.

At least Malfoy is much more pleasing to the eye than that Thomas. This guy just hates comparisons.

"Why don't you just go after my sister?" Ron sighed, covering his face with his hands. "I really don't think much of Dean Thomas. He's not good enough for Ginny, okay?"

"Stop it, Weasley," Draco said righteously. "She has a boyfriend, why would I interfere?"

An eerie silence suddenly fell between them.

"And you, Ron?" Neville, who had been gossiping enthusiastically, brought up another juicy topic, "Who do you like?"

However, Ron's snoring had already started.

Neville reached out and nudged Ron, but found he couldn't wake him up at all.

"This guy," Neville shook his head helplessly.

How can you wake someone who is pretending to be asleep?

"Alright, alright, let's go ahead," Draco said, standing up and helping Neville. "I'll take you back first—where's your room again?"

After the two helped each other out of the room, Ron finally opened his eyes.

He sat up, hesitated for a long time, and finally took out the Crystal Ball and opened Hermione's chat window.

"I'm sorry," he texted Hermione.

However, he didn't have to wait long; Hermione replied to his message almost instantly.

"It's okay," she said.

Harry, inside the room, had no idea how exciting the story was going to be. He was too busy teaching Cassandra a lesson, and it only took her an hour to go from Cassandra arrogant to being a helpless, crying, begging idiot.

Just as Harry sat up to drink some water, he noticed the Crystal Ball ringing.

"Is it news from Veratia?"

He muttered to himself, reaching for the Crystal Ball, only to receive a message from Ron instead.

"Dude, Hermione and I are back together!"

It was followed by an emoji, a feature recently developed by Mr. LeMay.

"Okay, okay, I know, it's the middle of the night," Harry said with obvious disgust.

You messaged me in the middle of the night just for this?

That's really promising!

However, what he didn't know was that Ron didn't just message him; he harassed everyone in his contacts equally.

When Ron woke up the next morning, his style was noticeably out of place compared to the others.

He was all smiles and glee, while the others glared at him angrily.

Clearly, most of the people present had received his midnight message.

During the meal, Mrs. Weasley was still giving her final summary.

"Tomorrow is Christmas," she said. "And the wedding of Miss Farley and Sirius is on the third day after Christmas. We need to be prepared."

"What should we do, Mom?" the Weasley twins asked in unison. "Should we surprise Sirius and Miss Farley at the wedding?"

"You'd better not do that," Mrs. Weasley said sternly. "If I find out you're planning any pranks in this setting, don't blame me for dealing with you! Do you hear me?!"

"Okay, Mom!" the Twins said in unison, their voices drooping.

But the way their eyes darted around suggested that things weren't that simple.

"Let's finish the work we didn't complete yesterday," Mrs. Weasley suggested. "Besides the Living Room, each of your rooms should also be decorated. After all, it's a holiday, and we should have a Christmas atmosphere."

"Okay, Mom." Ron picked up the plate of gravy and asked Hermione, "Would you like some gravy, Hermione?"

He was eager to curry favor, but he didn't hold on properly, and the plate of braised meat slipped from his hands.

Fortunately, Hermione reacted quickly, waving her wand, and the spilled gravy rose into the air before obediently falling back into the plate.

"You're just as dumb as that Tonks," Phoebe said to Ron after kissing Bill. "She always spills things."

"I invited dear Tonks," Mrs. Weasley said, slamming the carrot down and glaring at Phoebe, "But she doesn't want to come—have you spoken to her lately, Remus?"

"We talked about it, but Tonks wants to go back to her own home, right?"

"Hmm," Slev said regretfully, "Maybe. I have a feeling she's planning to spend Christmas there."

She glared at Lupin, annoyed. It was all his fault that she ended up with Phoebe instead of Downs as her daughter-in-law.

Harry glanced at Phoebe, who was feeding Bill with her own Prongs, and realized that Mrs. Weasley was doomed.

"Sometimes parents have no say in who their children choose," Harry whispered to Cassandra.

But Cassandra felt that Harry's words had a hidden meaning. After all, her father Septimus had initially disliked Harry, but eventually compromised.

There's no other way but to compromise. She's my only daughter, and I cherish her dearly.

Meanwhile, Ron at the dinner table continued to fawn over Hermione, getting Hermione this and Hermione every now and then.

Harry is now feeling a bit regretful. If he hadn't persuaded Ron to apologize to Hermione back then, would Ron be less of a nuisance today?

If I had known, wouldn't it have been so much better to let them wait until after Christmas to reconcile? Wouldn't this have saved us from all this frustration?

"So, when is Veratia planning to come here?" Pabbie, sitting to Harry's left, suddenly asked. "I haven't seen Veratia in quite some time."

"It's not decided yet." Harry glanced at the time. "But I think she should be there by five o'clock tonight, right? After all, it's Christmas. Even if she's the Minister for Magic, she should take a break and celebrate with her family, shouldn't she?"

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