The beer ended up in his face, and two seconds later, her fist connected solidly with his nose.
She hopped off her bar stool, enjoyed the way he staggered back, even viciously enjoyed the sight of his blood. He deserved it. He had come looking for it. Who was she to deny him such a simple request?
"You seem desperate for me to kick your arse, Smith." No wands though. Not in a Muggle pub. "How kind of me to help you out."