Amelia was feeling as though she had been poked, prodded, and examined to the point that no part of her was ever going to be private again. She knew the healers were just trying to do their job, but now that she had tasted freedom after so many months cooped up in St. Mungo's, it was getting to be harder and harder to go back for checkups. Even walking in again made Amelia feel as though a piece of her freedom was being taken from her, even if only for a few hours while they renewed her prescriptions and made sure her fever was still at bay.
It was nearly 7:00pm when they finally let her go with a clean bill of health and a bag full of potions to replace the ones she had used up in the last week. So far, the treatment plan was working; Amelia hadn't been running a fever, her skin was no longer emerald-colored, and her magic was coming back to her. She still hadn't gained back the weight she had lost in the process of being ill - making her look even more waif-like than usual - but otherwise, Amelia seemed to be finally getting over the "pureblood pox".
But after all the poking around that had happened today and the knowledge that there wasn't much for her to go home to tonight, Amelia found herself heading to Café Montez instead. She had never been here for anything other than coffee, so she was surprised to find their business booming at so late an hour. It seemed things turned into a sort of dinner & drinks atmosphere in the evening, and Amelia wasn’t lucky enough to get an empty table, so she took a seat up at the bar, ordering a Firewhiskey from the older woman behind the counter. She didn’t drink much, but when she did, whiskey would always be her poison of choice.