instance | t.t & s.s
March 1979
♠ HE WAS IN NEED of a good firewhiskey. ‘Good’, however, was subjective to the money in his pocket, and for some reason selling potions wasn’t doing too well during war. At least, not during this phase. There were no plans brewing for his side, so nobody he knew needed anything, and stranger clients were far and few. It was frustrating and expensive, leading to certain budget-cutting decisions.
It was unfortunate that his small pockets lead him to the one place that was as well-known as it was unreliable for sanitation and animal cruelty. The Leaky somehow got worse every time. Severus brushes some dust off the table, reaching out for his jug before some imbecile knocks it over. Faster than he could blink, the jug had shattered and mended itself, but its contents were all over the floor, scourgified before he could even take out his wand.
He’s pissed. “ Next time, try not flinging your limbs everywhere ? ”
( @txd-txnks )
