Violet was sitting at a back table at Expresso Patronum nursing a large cup of coffee. She was dressed neither in the well-made but conservative clothes she had worn for most of her life nor anything from her brief stab at fashionable during her last year at Hogwarts, but a thrown-together, casual (and let's me frank, slightly rumpled) outfit. On the table was one of her ever-present writing journals and she had one of the Muggle ballpoints she favored ready in her right hand, but instead of working, she was staring off into space. She looked...tired.