"Here's to honour." Draco Malfoy intoned, raising his glass in mock salute.
"Honour? What rubbish." Hermione's response was punctuated heavily by tipsy giggles as she downed the remains of her wine, nodding eagerly as Draco motioned for a refill.
"My dear Granger, do you doubt the distinguished house of Slytherin's honour?" He put on a show of wounded pride.
She snorted none too delicately, of course he would find a way to bring old house rivalries into the conversation.
"I most certainly do, Drakey. I defy you to bring me a single honourable Slytherin. You know what? Don't bother. You can't; you'd have better luck finding one of Luna's mythical beasts. An honourable Slytherin is a contradiction in terms, one simply doesn't exist." Her speech was peppered near excessively by unsteady jabs of her wine glass in his direction, the red liquid sloshing around perilously.
"Careful, Gryffindor," he warned. "You find yourself in a serpents lair. However, as I was saying," he said, raising his wrist and offering her a smirk. "Here's to honour. To getting on her. To staying on her, and if you can't come in her, come on her."
Hermione snorted, not even bothering to feign distaste or shocked sensibilities. "Alright, Malfoy, you win." She sucked in a breath, "Apparently the Slytherin house does have some sense of honour."
"I'll cherish those words," he replied dryly, clinking their glasses together before downing his all in one go.