#nottheoretical

Katie was no grand investigator or top detective. That role was left up to the likes of someone like Tonks or Moody—both with far more resilience and follow-through than her. Katie’s expertise was usually redundant unless a protest became too rowdy or a mastermind criminal decided to splurge a night out on the town, and mastermind criminals ( not to be confused with Dark Wix ) were rather lacking right now. It made her job seem more boring. The absentminded task of bouncing between sub-departments was physiologically depleting and demotivating. She was left to her own devices far more than she should have been, which did not always create ideal circumstances. Though she preferred to be flying on her broomstick, she also enjoyed a daring escape down in her secret laboratory just as much ( which was really the loo in her tiny flat fashioned with a makeshift area near the tub for her many trials and accidents ).

Katie clearly preferred to have her hands dirty. Oftentimes they were, whether it was the blood of miscreants ( sometimes even her own ), or the result of her own mishaps and rogue behavior. Today she was definitely erring on the latter, though fairly early on into her endeavors she discovered she did not have all the proper ingredients. That called for an emergency trip to the apothecary. With haste she apparated in a cloud of translucent smoke without so much as a second glance at her surroundings. She only took note of the changing scenery when her feet touched down on the crooked cobblestone path merging between Diagon and Knockturn Alley. A fervent feeling of spring frolicked throughout the air as the wind eagerly matted her dark locks of hair. It truly was a perfect day to take flight, but alas, the young wix already had other plans.