By her fourth glass of the damned fire whiskey she only tolerated, she really didn't care. Well after midnight by that point, most of the patrons were beginning to make their way home. She almost envied them for the rows that some of them were going to have when they got there. She didn't even have a home to go back to. Not anymore. Thanks to Rodolphus she once again had nothing. Just the temporary use of a cottage belonging to a man she loathed. And she wasn't even sure she was safe there any longer.