(
in bill's room, earlier )
He moves with a far more determined step than an evening of drinking to excess might provide, but Bill now has a purpose. He opens the door as smoothly as possible, given the pounding in his head, and moves toward the bar where
a phial with his name on the label catches his attention.
He picks it up, studying it carefully. HANGOVER POTION. For Bill Weasley. Dosage: One teaspoon.
"Oh, yes, right. I'm going to take a potion found lying about in a bar with my name on it -- do I look like I want to be a target again?" But still, he picks it up and holds it up to the light; it's properly stoppered and the right colour for Hangover Remedy. Heaven knows he's taken it enough times over the years.
He sets the phial back onto the bar. No, thank you. I earned this hangover myself.
"Cup of tea, please. Irish Breakfast; cream and sugar."
As the tea arrives, Bill moves to a private table. He still has no idea how to contact Albus Dumbledore. More's the pity: a combination of single-mindedness and hangover have caused him to completely miss
his brother.