It wasn't until she was swept up in Meghans hug that things started to feel right again. For the past couple of hours she'd been swinging between anger at the Ministrys latest decrees - copies of which were spread out over the flat - and hurt at the fact that someone she consider a friend - the first boy she'd ever loved - was involved in the trial and persecution of innocent witches and wizards.
Meghan's hug was familiar and comforting, and she grinned against the mass of her friends hair.
"Rusty nail scissors," she admitted wryly " I'm going to snip them of inch by inch."
Leaning back she let some of the humour try to creep into her voice: striving for normality. That is until she saw the tub of ice cream and let out a small groan.