Harry takes a swig from his own drink, also more experienced than his age might imply. (That's the kind of thing that happens when your dad gifts you a bottle of whiskey for your sixteenth birthday.)

He sits up a little straighter, clearly interested in what Five's saying as more than just smalltalk.

"You can do that? Just—" He makes a vague motion with his fingers. "—blink your way back to your universe?"