■■■ butterbeer
______mid-20's | junior litigator at doge, dillonsby and bones

Of course her client wanted to meet in Hogsmeade. Of course the meeting had been bumped up. Of course she needed to use the dreaded floo network. Because why should a day at work be easy.

Q stepped out of the Three Broomsticks' fireplace feeling nauseous, grumpy and covered in soot. She barely managed to keep from falling as she wobbled to the bathrooms to clean herself up. No magic cleaning for her.

As she reemerged and looked around, reality sunk in.

The lawyer slowly stepped out onto the main street, her head spinning. She couldn't help but imagine herself as a teenager here, in green coloured robes, complaining about boys and homework and- Q gasped.

Hogwarts.

Ancient buried feelings threatened to resurface and she sprinted back to the pub as fast as she could. She had a meeting. A client. Work. She would order herself a plain, magicless coffee, go over her notes. She was fine. Perfectly fine. She's always been fine.

But when she approached the bartender, Quinn Chambers heard herself ask for a glass of butterbeer instead. And when her fingers wrapped around the beverage, the corner of her mouth quirked up.

Fine. Just this once.