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Post by Mariah Petite on Nov 1, 2008 10:40:48 GMT -5
Tatyana sighed, staring into the drink. Most of the butterbeer was gone, but there were a few mouthfuls left in the bottom of the tankard. Raising the rim to her lips, Tatyana tilted the glass back, finishing off the last few swallows. The butterbeer was warm in her mouth, and trickled down her throat, leaving a warm, fuzzy feeling behind. Unforchantly, the liquor wasn't strong enough to leave a lasting effect and slowly the soft buzz wore off.
Wondering if she could persuade an older patron to buy her a firewhiskey, Tatyana looked around for a possible candidate. Maybe that group of goblins in the corner, for a few coins, or maybe the lone wizard by the back. No, he was leering at a group of third years in a way that disgusted Tatyana. Why was she looking for stronger liquor, exactly? Her father. Today, the most current of a long string of letters had arrived, pressuring Tatyana to join the Dark Army. It wasn't that Tatyana was a muggle-lover, or anything like that, she just didn't care. Honestly, if other people wanted to risk their lives to kill other people, have a blast, go wild. Just leave her out of it.
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