The only way they could numb themselves to the pain of Harry's memory was to drink it away.

I don't need three bedrooms, seal this one up and let's never speak of it again.

My dad had an ill-fated attempt at collecting wine corks when I was in high school. (probably drinking to dull the pain of dealing with my surly teenage self.) Every couple weeks my mom and I would empty out half of his collection and toss them. He never did get to make that giant repurposed corkboard.