Terrell was bored. Months ago, Selwyn’s little visit had elicited many sleepless nights and tense days, where every small crack meant a Death Eater was at her door. It worried her to think about what could have happened if Selwyn had been a more dangerous member of the Ministry (although she really couldn’t picture the Lestranges stopping for a cup of coffee at a muggle pub), and it frustrated her to know how helpless she was without a wand. She had already asked Abe to get her a new one, but so far, none of them had felt quite like her first one, and she had yet to find a satisfactory match.
Now, however, after routine had again settled in and she had stopped jumping at her own shadow, Terrell had inevitably gone back at wishing she knew more, and that she could do more. The Prophet couldn’t be trusted, and the occasional visits they received were the only sources of information they had, though Abe always seemed to know more than he was willing to tell her.
Sighing, Terrell leaned on the bar’s counter. Just as the bar could be brimming with life and noise, it could also be quiet and peaceful. It all depended on the hour and day, and right now, only a couple businessmen were having lunch in a corner. To give herself something to do, she started wiping a glass, occasionally holding it against the soft light coming from the window.
At the sound of a voice, she rolled her eyes. “Go ahead and sit, sir. I will be with you in a moment,” she replied in a voice that was only slightly irritable. She had long decided not to let her bad temper scare customers away. Setting the glass aside, she turned… and gasped.
“Stephen? What-” Terrell bit her lip before making her way towards him. “On a second thought, you can sit over here,” she said, showing him a table a little more on the corner, hidden from prying eyes. “Merlin, boss, what are you doing here?” she whispered once they were out of the customers’ earshot. “You gave me quite a shock!”