Ministry functions were a bore. After sitting through an agonisingly laborious dinner, Millie excused herself from the table, just before the pudding, making sure to whisper to her father that she’d be down the pub and that he was to owl her if he needed her. She was desperate to get out of the Ministry and, more importantly, out of the stuffy company of the leering old bankers and sports executive that didn’t know a thing about what was going on in the league tables. One of them didn’t even know that the Magpies had gone up a league. At that point, Millie had just about finished dying inside. She relished the freedom the chilly outside air gave her. She fumbled with the packet of cigarettes she’s stolen from her brother’s jacket pocket and lit one with shaking hands before tossing the thankfully empty packet into one of the borough council bins that were outside; outside in the Muggle world.
Setting off at a light stroll, Millie moved towards the hustle and bustle of London. Millie was incredibly grateful for her scarf and thankful that her mother had insisted she take it if not a jacket before they left that night. Millie had sworn a long time ago that she would have rather been dead than caught in a dress but that had all changed after her mother had forced her into it then taken her to a ridiculously boring dinner at the Ministry. Millie couldn’t think of a worse thing to do on a Saturday evening. She knew she had to persevere though and did so up until the point where it had become completely unbearable.
It wasn’t long until Millie came across the clubs. She lifted her eyes up and took in the neon signs and listened to the pounding music. She trailed through the streets, slipping parts friendly and not so friendly drunks. She then turned down the familiar street towards the Leaky Cauldron but stopped when she saw that another ale house was open. She glanced about herself, looking to the Muggles who were staggering across the road, and wondered if they could see it. When they walked right past it thought without so much as a glance, Millie knew that it was a Magical pub. Grinning to herself, she looked both ways before crossing the road and hopping up the stairs to the door of the pub.
The atmosphere inside was lively and warm. People were playing poker, having drinking contests and just sitting, talking. Millie unwound her scarf from her neck and flicked her cigarette in the gutter before stepping over the threshold and going inside.
She almost immediately strayed to the bar and found herself stood in front of it in a matter of seconds. The barman turned around as another song from the Jukebox began to play and Millie gestured for him to get her a rum and coke before producing a galleon. He nodded and took it from her, handing her the change before setting about to make her drink. Millie turned around and took the pub in. Underage yet old enough to pull off the ‘seventh year’ look. Millie felt rather at home here. It wasn’t too offensive and it certainly wasn’t dead. Heck, she was even relaxed enough to take the glamours off of her back to let the wings she’d had tattooed onto her back breathe. She was just thankful it wasn’t magic the Ministry would catch.
Slipping onto the barstool, she sat down just in time for her drink to come her way. Millie smiled and thanked the man before bringing the drink to her lips. With the rum running through her, she could begin to really relax and she did so, fiddling with the frayed edges of the beermats as she began to do so.
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