"Squibs are no more than vermin in this world," Thorfinn was saying as he touted his family's name for being Squib-free. "Toss them in with the Muggles. It's where they belong."

The barkeep laughed heartily and made Thorfinn's drunken grin widen.

"Well, lad, I hate to be the bearer, but since you're my only customer and it's the bewitching hour..."

Thorfinn nodded and fished some galleons out of his robes to toss on the bar. He then tried to stand, but teetered a bit before sitting back down. He'd only had a few drinks, but honestly, he hadn't been counting so maybe he did have too many. "You wouldn't have some Pepper-Up, by chance?" he asked as he found some balance, enough so he no longer saw three barkeeps staring at him.

"'Course!" the barkeep replied before leaning in and lowering his voice. "Though I have something better. A Chinese potion. It'll sober you up and keep away the hangover. You'll be a new man." He smiled when Thorfinn squinted at him in interest. "Hard to come by, this stuff. I wouldn't just offer it to anyone, but if you're willing to pay..."

Thorfinn slapped two more galleons onto the bar, making the barkeep grin greedily.

"Gold is a wondrous thing," Thorfinn said, which received a chortle as the barkeep went to a cupboard and rummaged around before returning with a skinny but long vial, which he uncorked and handed over.

"'Drunkard's Cure' is what they call it."

Thorfinn sniffed the copper-colored liquid curiously and arched a brow when he caught the fainest hint of ginger root among the spices that hit his nose. If anything was going to sober him up so he didn't splinch when he apparated home, this vial certainly smelled like it would be a kick in the pants. He smirked at the barkeep before downing the potion. As he swallowed, he felt warmth quickly spread through his body and for a second, his thoughts became more focused and less drunken. He smiled triumphantly before the vial fell from his fingers to smash on the floor as he lost consciousness, slumping against the bar before his weight caused his stool to tip sideways. The barkeep watched as Thorfinn crashed into the other stools and took several to the floor with him.

"Stupid bloody berk," the barkeep grunted.

The sound drew the attention from someone in the kitchen who quickly came running. A young, 20-something brunette appeared and skidded to a halt aside the bar and peered around it at Thorfinn. "You think he'll do?" the girl asked in a whisper with a small frown. "That Quidditch bloke was useless."

The barkeep waved his wand at the bar door which latched quickly as the lantern hanging on the door extinguished itself. He returned the girl's frown. "He bloody well better do. He's a Hitwizard. Squad leader, even. A right nasty mouth on him though." There was a pause before the barkeep shooed the girl toward Thorfinn. "Go on, take his wand and I'll send an owl to Kent. Idiot drank the whole vial. He'll be out for days."

Stooping over Thorfinn's incapacitated form, the brunette rummaged through his robes until she came up with a long, thin piece of wood, which she waved around in a swish and flick manner. Nothing happened and she heaved a sigh.

"Don't fret," the barkeep said compassionately as he scribbled on a bit of parchment with a quill. "I told that Timms bloke I would sell the whole bloody bar to help pay if he could help our family. You know I would give you anything you ever wanted. You asked to be a witch." The barkeep gave the girl a stern glance. "We're going to make you a witch and no one is going to stop me from helping you try."

The girl gave the barkeep a teary glance. "Thank you," she said with a smile and shake of her head. "You make me so proud to be your daughter, even if I am just a Squib."

Frowning, the barkeep carefully rolled up his note and went to wake their owl. "You're a witch," he said in a gentler tone. "You just need a nudge. Everyone should be allowed a couple nudges in life."

Rounding the bar, the girl embraced her father as he released the small barn owl out of a window into the night. "They'll be here soon," the barkeep said as he put his arm around her and sighed. "Well, we'd better get that arsehole off the floor. He stinks of pureblood prick and it'll scare away the regulars."