Ministry cleanup. [5:30pm]
"Coffee?" If ever a grown man had perked it was Rufus, and he was perking fiercely, shoving his notebook in his mouth so he could keep his wand in one hand and take the coffee in the other; only too late did he realize his conundrum and attempt clumsily to get the notebook under his arm without endangering coffee, notebook, or wand. It was a bit ridiculous and he finally relented and mouthed off the notebook to Amelia (ignoring her wrinkled nose at the spit-dampened edges) and took a long hard gulp of coffee. It scalded him from the inside out, and it was exactly what he needed - the scalding - for it felt as though he'd been tainted by this destruction and cruelty. As much as he believed in the goodness of the ministry and the importance of blood mingling, dealing with the wreckage of muggle homes had always just been pitiable... depressing in its way... but always detached somehow.
This was not detached, but close to home in a way that made him ill inside, necessitating the scrubbing that boiling liquid provided, even if only a physical crutch for his distress. It worked, it was good enough, and for the moment it was a blissful relief from the chaos that surrounded them.