Padma was grumpy, and sore, and completely drained. She was in her pajamas, too short shorts and an oversized Puddlemere sweatshirt, and big, white fuzzy slippers. Her glasses were on, her hair was in a messy bun on the very top of her head, and her arms was back in the Muggle sling she'd bought because, gods, it hurt horribly. That bloody Healer had been a horrid pig the moment she'd seen Padma's brand, and Padma's pinky and ring fingers were tingling verging on numb.
On top of it all, Lavender had a man over, if the loud belt of the word "Fuck!" were any proof. Padma hoped they through up a silencing charm if they were going to start having sex. It was far too early for Padma to have to listen to that, and she wasn't in the mood to have to escape the apartment this early.
When there was a knock on the door, Padma could have hexed a hole through the door. A cup of black coffee in hand, and a look that could kill on her face, she opened the door warily. Michael.
"If you're planning to be loud, I'll kick you right back out," Padma didn't smile or frown, but stepped back to let him in. Switching the coffee back from her weak hand to her right hand, she blew on it gently. "Why in Rowena's name are you awake at this indecent hour?" she asked as she sat at the barstool, gazing at Michael over her coffee. "Have you even slept for the night? And what are you wearing?" Padma was far less tactful before her morning coffee.