After digging into her beaded bag for enough money to buy a pint from the man behind the bar, Hermione stared into the glass, tracing patterns in the condensation with her fingertips. As much as she might have wished to gulp the liquid down, she had to pace herself. Unless she was able to convince one of the other patrons to fund the rest of her night, she had to make the drink last. No one would allow her to remain inside in the warmth if she wasn't a paying customer. Life could get difficult without money. Not for the first time she cursed her lack of it.