It was a Friday, not that their work week really followed such a schedule. But there’s an odd silence to the department these last few years. Post-war times, if she ever paid attention to History of Magic, could be turmoil. Maybe, she was missing something. Maybe she was simply as unaware as ever. Whatever. It something Marlene cannot particularly pinpoint the words that would put it best. Then again, words of substance were not her strong suit. The ride started in silence, the elevator back to the Ministry atrium where a bustle of wixen would be flooing themselves out of office for the weekend. The monotony struck her, thinking this is what she was supposed to want. She’d done her time in more ways than one, she was allowed to be done as some would say. She could have a quiet life with the necessities, but it was an unsettling sea of gray and black robes that emptied out before her which made her wince internally. How would she ever fit into this?
“Aye,” she started a light whisper just to break the Godric forsaken silence. A light grin making its way with her eyes trailing to Emmeline on her side, a little twinkle that could only suggest mischief “Look at this.” She peaked her bag out towards the brunette, just the hint of a glimmer of a bottle of firewhiskey. Dark and lovely, with hints of something warm, fervent, reddish, and raging. “S’not mine.” She emphasized quickly, expecting a scolding from the slightly older auror. “Found it in an abandoned desk in the back because...you know.” She shrugged, leaving the implication where it was to be interpreted. “Either a sweaty pub or a cwtch on the couch with this. Take your pick darling.”
@ms-emmelinevance
