For a long moment, she forced herself to say nothing, because if she did, it would likely end with her hexing Ron's stupid arse into or through the wall. She had just escaped getting in trouble for beating up Zacharias Smith, after all, and really, she had no desire to hurt Ron. Not right then, not when they were all so obviously hurting.
"Actually," she said in a voice that didn't sound very steady at all, "you said you didn't care if I came or not, so long as I brought firewhiskey. Which I did. And I'm not fucking Dean Thomas, I'm your sister, and you don't get to shut me out and drink yourself stupid, no matter what you bloody well think."
She was never very good at keeping calm in the face of anger.
"You want to drink? Well, it's my damn firewhiskey, so you're stuck with my company."