#misplaced coffee

The commute to the Ministry of Magic was longer than it really should have been for Beatrice. The Leaky Cauldron had a fireplace she could use to floo into the offices, but there was something barbaric about getting soot all over yourself before your day started.

The visitors’ entrance was her preferred method, even if she had to take muggle transportation for the time being; she couldn’t just Apparate to the entrance. She was trying to keep her nose clean and she hadn’t gone to get her license yet for this country.

Regardless, the lull of the morning routine was comforting. The Leaky Cauldron made her coffee, even if it wasn’t anything of quality—though as she walked into the Atrium of the Ministry, she didn’t get a chance to enjoy the rest of it when she collided with someone as she passed the fountain.

Beatrice’s coffee clattered to the ground; her hands were sticky with liquid and her clothes uncomfortably wet. She scoffed at the girl in front of her, who had been in the way before Beatrice had arrived at the elevator. “Now look at what you’ve done.”