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**Wilber Winterbottom** · 12-25-2022, 11:44 PM

The Three Broomsticks is the most well-known pub in the small village, which is why it is often rather crowded with students and adults alike. The outside of the building is a good preview of what the inside may look like with the same steep roof as the surrounding buildings with a sign featuring the legendary three broomsticks, all fixed around a lantern to light the patrons' way. It certainly looks better kept than the Hog's Head down the street.

Once you enter the pub, the warmth of the large stone fireplace great you as you place hats and coats by the door. Directly in front of you there are tables and booths lining the majority of the small hall with oil lamps placed on each one. On winter days it is usually hard to find a place beside the large fire grate; however, if you're early enough, you can bet your galleons that you'll be nice and toasty by the fire. To the left is the bar where the bartender waits to take your order.

Text Cut: Menu & Prices

Beverages: one free refill

* Butterbeer - 5 sickles
* Firewhiskey (must be of age) – 10 sickles
* Pumpkin Juice - 3 knuts
* Hot Cocoa – 5 knuts
Entrees

* Shepherd's Pie – 2 galleons
* Fish and Chips - 2 galleons, 3 sickles
* Chicken Noodle Soup – 1 galleon, 3 knuts
* Turkey Sandwich (cold or grilled) - 1 galleon
With cheese - 1 galleon, 2 sickles
* Cheese Sandwich (cold or grilled) - 1 galleon
* Ham Sandwich (cold or grilled) - 1 galleon
With cheese - 1 galleon, 2 sickles
* Tomato Soup - 16 sickles
* Macaroni and Cheese – 1 galleon, 3 sickles
Sides

* Mixed vegetables – 5 sickles
* Salad - 16 sickles
* Glazed carrots – 8 sickles
* Mashed potatoes with assorted condiments (serves 2-4) – 2 galleons
* Garlic bread
Slice -- 4 sickles
Loaf (serves 4-6) 1 galleon
* Sliced Seasonal Fruit
One Serving – 7 sickles
Group Serving (serves 3-5) 2 galleons
Desserts

* Strawberry Shortcake – 9 sickles per slice
* Cookies (2)
Chocolate Chip - 9 sickles
Raisin – 6 sickles
Sugar – 8 sickles
* Brownies
One Brownie – 9 sickles
Two Brownies – 1 galleon
* Assorted Fruit (with chocolate for dipping) (serves two) – 1 galleon

sweetpinkpixie · 11-15-2025, 02:25 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by WhittyBitty

It had been a rather eventful day so far, full of browsing and shopping. Aurora loved coming to Hogsmeade and always liked to make the most of the visits, shopping and spending time with her friends. It was a good way to get her mind off of things and also served as a nice break from all the studying she had to do for her OWLs.

Feeling hungry, she had decided to stop by the Three Broomsticks and get something to eat. She had hoped to see some of her friends, but couldn’t find any so she sat at a booth all by herself to eat her lunch. It would be nice to have some company, but as it was she was fine taking out a magazine and looking at it as she ate. It was nice to read something that wasn’t a textbook for a change.

Nyle had no idea how Iris could possibly read this much. Actually...he did, so the more accurate thought was how she could buy this much in one afternoon. He was fairly certain Tomes and Scrolls had made enough that they could close early for the day if they wanted to. By the time she’d finished 'just a quick browse,' his arms had become stacked with enough books to refurbish a small library. Still, he trailed after her without complaint. It was familiar, grounding—watching her debate between two equally intimidating tomes while he shifted the weight of the growing tower in his arms and tried to look useful. When she finally waved him off with a distracted, I’ll meet you later, he took it as both mercy and a direct order to put the books in her mokeskin pouch and find another way to occupy his time.

Food, for sure food - was he starving.

He slipped into the Three Broomsticks, rubbing feeling back into his hands, and scanned for the quickest spot to collapse into. That was when he caught a familiar flash of fireseed hair in one of the booths: Aurora, half-hidden behind a magazine, alone but looking perfectly content in the quiet. Nyle hesitated only a second before wandering over, lifting a hand in greeting.

"Uh...hey," he smiled, his voice warm but a little winded. "Mind if I sit? Iris had me working as her packmule I’m not entirely sure I can make it to another table."

WhittyBitty · 11-18-2025, 02:34 AM

Hearing a familiar voice, Aurora set down her copy of Witch Weekly, and brightened immediately. ”Hey, Nyle!” The magazine had been nice, but it was a lot better to have his company. He seemed to be in a better mood today, and she was really happy to see it. He deserved nothing less than to be happy all the time. And he had been dealing with so much since the end of last term. ”You’re always welcome to join me. You don’t even need to ask.” She smiled.

So he had been made a packmule. Yep. That sounded like something Iris would do. ”So did she buy half of Tomes and Scrolls then?” Aurora could be quite the reader, especially these days with all the studying she needed to do, but she didn’t know anyone who read like Iris. It was honestly impressive. And she was sure that the people working at Tomes and Scrolls were always very happy whenever she shopped there.

sweetpinkpixie · 11-27-2025, 12:28 PM

Nyle let out a quiet huff of laughter as he slid into the seat across from her. Slid was, perhaps, too generous a term since what he did was more akin to wilting into it like a drought-stricken fern finally given shade. In either case, he certainly grateful to let his shoulders uncoil for what felt like the first time all day.

"Half?" he echoed, breathlessly amused. "It felt more like… three quarters." He tipped his head back against the seat, eyes fluttering shut for a moment in pure relief. Would it be the worst thing if he were to take a nap right here? "I’m almost tempted to believe she’s single-handedly keeping the establishment in business."

It was a joke, but also... not. Iris devoured books the way other people breathed. It wasn't too surprising since they'd grown up with that kind of hunger for words through mum and dad both, though in different ways. Dad read like it was a ritual, a grounding, a way to understand the world while mum wrote like she was trying to etch the truth of it into existence. A published poet, several collections out already, with her newest set to appear in anthologies people actually studied. Iris has inherited both these passions, leaving Nyle with a different set of passions and interest - as if both their parents had been neatly sorted and divided.

"What did you get? It looks good." He hadn't given his own lunch much consideration, but his stomach left no doubt that he was positively famished.

FearlessLeader19 · 05-23-2026, 06:00 PM

Jan was coming to visit him today, Jan was coming to meet him today!

The words kept repeating in his head exactly like a mantra as he bounced his way towards The Three Broomsticks. He would have loved to bring Paully and Nessy along but Iddy was being greedy: he wanted his older brother all to himself.

On this fine wintery day, the Gryffindor had opted for some shenanigans - he was in disguise. The Muggle kind, not magical via human transformation.

You read that right! Idris Ace Grunt was a ~~Transformer~~ Lion in disguise!

The reason? Only because he felt like it, not because he was trying to see if Jan could easily identify him still. Or was it?

Anyway, the disguise? Instead of his usual flouffy afro, his hair was braided into neat zigzaggy cornrows. He had opted for one of those glasses with false eyelashes, mustache and nose attached, the nose blending quite lovely with his complexion.

After ordering two butterbeers, the disguised Idris took a seat at an empty table. He did his best to look as natural as possible and as though he were about to consume two mugs of butterbeer.

Have fun finding him, Jan!

Charely Potter · 05-23-2026, 11:19 PM

SPOILER!!: Not so Little Yellow Lion Hood

Jan was looking forward to seeing his oldest younger brother, Idris! It had been two years since he had brotherly Hogsmeade time. The time passing boggled this twenty-year-old's mind. Though they had naturally spent time with each other during summers and the occasional important Quidditch matches when they fell on a weekend. Idris eventually gave word that he'd be waiting in the Three Broomsticks, so here Jan was. After removing the sunglasses and his scarf from the chilling weather, he went to scope them out.

Turns out, Idris wasn't the only one who changed their usual look. Jan's hair was loced in a updo braided ponytail. The sides were shaven though with a fade. There was little reason for Jan to have his long hair down and flowing when the high winds did more than his usual bonnets can maintain. Anyhoo, he looked around. The floofy hair wasn't present, but something else stood out to him... the height. Yes, Jan knew Idris had grown but goodness, was he taller than him and their Firther now? Unfair. Also... who else would try to disguise themselves and have two butterbeers untouched in front of them? But it's okay, Jan could play coy for a bit.

Walking over, he gave the senior student a gentle tap on their shoulder, keeping a straight face as he saw the exaggerated nose with glasses. "Excuse me, have you seen someone who looks like me but used to be shorter and answers to the name Idris or Iddy?" Jan asked. "He has an older brother who terribly misses him and has a little gift to give." Now how long would this play out?

*squidnie* · 05-24-2026, 03:36 AM

Her first Hogsmeade trip! Cat had a Honeydukes bag hanging from her arm as she entered the Three Broomsticks. She already knew what she wanted. She’d heard all about it and had yet to try. Butterbeer.

Also, a brownie. Because she deserved a treat.

After getting her food, Cat chose a table near the wall so that she could people watch. And, she would be happy to report, her butterbeer was delicious.

sweetpinkpixie · 05-26-2026, 07:29 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by squidnie

Her first Hogsmeade trip! Cat had a Honeydukes bag hanging from her arm as she entered the Three Broomsticks. She already knew what she wanted. She’d heard all about it and had yet to try. Butterbeer.

Also, a brownie. Because she deserved a treat.

After getting her food, Cat chose a table near the wall so that she could people watch. And, she would be happy to report, her butterbeer was delicious.

The door to the Three Broomsticks burst open hard enough to let in a swirl of cold air and one visibly windblown Gryffindor. CJ stumbled inside mid-shiver, shoulders hunched up around his ears while he tried unsuccessfully to untangle himself from his scarf while his beanie sat low on his head with his hair sticking out at all sorts of odd angles.

"And I thought New York winters knew how to throw hands," he informed absolutely no one while nudging the door shut behind him with his butt.

But yet the second warmth and the smell of food hit him, the suffering vanished instantly from his face. Oh, this place smelled GOOD. His stomach apparently agreed loud enough to nearly qualify as public speaking. All those rumors and hearsay from his friends back home about the food over here being atrocious were obviously exaggerations.

"Easy, big guy," he muttered to his stomach, rubbing it as he wove through the crowd inside towards the counter.

Speaking of exaggerations, he was one personified since apparently the answer to 'What do you want?' was 'yes'.

By the time he turned away, he was balancing an alarming amount of food in both hands — a bowl of tomato soup, a grilled ham and cheese sandwich (for dipping into the soup, obviously), a slice of strawberry shortcake he probably did not need but spiritually required, and an aggressively foamy butterbeer sloshing dangerously near the rim.

Which meant he didn't notice her immediately (read: at all). Not until he turned too fast and caught sight of familiar blonde (like a lemon!) hair near the wall.

"LEMONDROP—!"

The greeting came out so suddenly and enthusiastically that the butterbeer betrayed him instantly. Foam sloshed over the side and CJ jerked sideways trying to save it, which only made the whole tray wobble too, resulting in a frantic sequence of corrections that looked less like balance and more like interpretive dance.

But hey, those Seeker reflexes, amiright?

A nearby warlock nearly suffered for the cause ― dangerously close to having a lapful of tomato soup. Instead, he imparted the third year with a series of very CHOICE words which, thankfully, the brunette buffoon couldn't entirely understand due to the thick accent.

He froze there afterward breathing hard, staring down at the tray like he'd just caught the snitch in the final match of the Quidditch World Cup.

Then he looked up at Cat with wide-eyed sincerity. "Pretty awesome, right?" The recovery, that is. And himself adjacently. "Also, please tell me tha all that was worth it because I keep hearing about how this butterbeer stuff and how it reinvigorates you more than the Draught of Ephemera ever could for a ghost."

Only then did it click for him that he MIGHT not be meeting Lemondrop today. The girl whose table he was approaching and moving like he was going to slide into the vacant chair across from her might be Acid Pop today.

Which, in fairness, felt like important emotional weather to clock before committing to the chair buuuuuuuut, too late now.

FearlessLeader19 · 05-26-2026, 02:44 PM

SPOILER!!: Ah who dis handsome fella? <3

Idris had raised his mug to his mouth, the rim barely touching his lips when the eyes that had been so eagerly searching for his brother’s appearance. And when he found it already surveying him, he just managed to suppress an excited squeak. Id couldn’t help but reflect on what a dashing young man Jan had become. Not to say that he hadn't always been good looking. It was definitely not just due to that hairdo - which Id might be stealing one day soon. Seeing the older brother, the Gryffindor realised he still was sad about not seeing him often as he had while they were at Hogwarts together. But the sadness wasn’t as bad as before; it outweighed the satisfaction of watching Jan be a rising star in the Quidditch world.

Act casual, Iddy, he told himself when out of his peripheral vision he saw Jan began his approach. He took that delayed sip of butterbeer. And there was the tap on his shoulder in the form of a greeting. Id longed to fling the butterbeer away {Jordan Howlett style

}and throw himself at Jan but… nope. He’d see how this played out first. There would be plenty of time for hugging the older Grunt.

Gift?

Iddy’s ears perked up in true cat-like fashion

“Arrr, I can’t be sayin’ that I have, matey.” Needless to say the pirate talk did not go along with his disguise; the words had just popped out of his mouth. “Be this Iddy as handsome as ye be? An’ what be this present ye speak of?”

The seventh year wasn’t quite sure how long he could keep this charade up. The urge to throw himself at Jan was stronger.

*squidnie* · Yesterday, 02:29 AM

Text Cut: Hurricane CJ

Quote:

Originally Posted by sweetpinkpixie

The door to the Three Broomsticks burst open hard enough to let in a swirl of cold air and one visibly windblown Gryffindor. CJ stumbled inside mid-shiver, shoulders hunched up around his ears while he tried unsuccessfully to untangle himself from his scarf while his beanie sat low on his head with his hair sticking out at all sorts of odd angles.

"And I thought New York winters knew how to throw hands," he informed absolutely no one while nudging the door shut behind him with his butt.

But yet the second warmth and the smell of food hit him, the suffering vanished instantly from his face. Oh, this place smelled GOOD. His stomach apparently agreed loud enough to nearly qualify as public speaking. All those rumors and hearsay from his friends back home about the food over here being atrocious were obviously exaggerations.

"Easy, big guy," he muttered to his stomach, rubbing it as he wove through the crowd inside towards the counter.

Speaking of exaggerations, he was one personified since apparently the answer to 'What do you want?' was 'yes'.

By the time he turned away, he was balancing an alarming amount of food in both hands — a bowl of tomato soup, a grilled ham and cheese sandwich (for dipping into the soup, obviously), a slice of strawberry shortcake he probably did not need but spiritually required, and an aggressively foamy butterbeer sloshing dangerously near the rim.

Which meant he didn't notice her immediately (read: at all). Not until he turned too fast and caught sight of familiar blonde (like a lemon!) hair near the wall.

"LEMONDROP—!"

The greeting came out so suddenly and enthusiastically that the butterbeer betrayed him instantly. Foam sloshed over the side and CJ jerked sideways trying to save it, which only made the whole tray wobble too, resulting in a frantic sequence of corrections that looked less like balance and more like interpretive dance.

But hey, those Seeker reflexes, amiright?

A nearby warlock nearly suffered for the cause ― dangerously close to having a lapful of tomato soup. Instead, he imparted the third year with a series of very CHOICE words which, thankfully, the brunette buffoon couldn't entirely understand due to the thick accent.

He froze there afterward breathing hard, staring down at the tray like he'd just caught the snitch in the final match of the Quidditch World Cup.

Then he looked up at Cat with wide-eyed sincerity. "Pretty awesome, right?" The recovery, that is. And himself adjacently. "Also, please tell me tha all that was worth it because I keep hearing about how this butterbeer stuff and how it reinvigorates you more than the Draught of Ephemera ever could for a ghost."

Only then did it click for him that he MIGHT not be meeting Lemondrop today. The girl whose table he was approaching and moving like he was going to slide into the vacant chair across from her might be Acid Pop today.

Which, in fairness, felt like important emotional weather to clock before committing to the chair buuuuuuuut, too late now.

Cat did, of course, witness the whole thing.

She saw the boy enter the pub, saw him order every single thing on the menu, then she watched him almost dump every last menu item on an older man who really ought to consider his audience when choosing his words.

Not that she felt that better word choice would temper Hurricane CJ. Rather, Cat was fairly certain that the Gryffindor Troll would continue over everything in his path out of sheer force of wheel and or dumb luck.

Terminal obtuseness. She hadn’t forgotten about that. And she was beginning to think that it was a skill rather than a hindrance at this point. She was, begrudgingly perhaps, becoming impressed by the boy’s ability to create a metaphorical earthquake in just about any room he entered.

He was also, it seemed to her, the only person who perhaps spoke more than she did once prompted. And maybe it was the shock, but she found it hard to form words in his general vicinity.

It was most certainly not the dark, curly hair. Or the wide, deep brown eyes. And it was definitely not the way his mouth turned up like that on one side but not the other.

“Terminal obtuseness,” she reminded herself in a mumble before the boy in question bombarded her. She blinked in response to his verbal onslaught. Then veeeeery slowly, veeeeeeeeeeery deliberately, sipped her butterbeer.

“The Draught of Ephemera doesn’t reinvigorate ghosts,” she informed him. “It uses a human catalyst. So, if anything, I’d say that it drains other resources and allows the ghost to use them rather than breathing life and energy into the ghost itself.” Was that his point? No, and Cat was fully aware of that. It’s just that he brought out her argumentative side for some reason.

“But,” she added, “The butterbeer is very good, yes.”

sweetpinkpixie · Today, 01:11 AM

Text Cut: what a delightfully fitting nickname!

CJ's eyebrows shot up so fast they disappeared beneath the edge of his beanie.

"Terminal what-now?"

Terminal as in...airport terminal? Had she named the table and merely announcing his arrival? Actually, yeah. That checked out. Also reminded him of the games dad and mom used to play to try and get him to sit at the dinner table and STAY there. His toddler phase fascination with airplanes had been a lot of fun.

"Wait, no way, that's a real thing?! I just thought it was some funny little phrase thrown around for laughs. Not a real bonafide brew someone could make!"

And since CJ was arriving at Terminal Whatever-she-had-just-said...

The chair legs scraped loudly against the floor as he finally fully committed to sitting across from her, carefully lowering his tray like someone disarming an explosive device in one of those epic spy thrillers. Which, given the amount of soup AND butterbeer involved, honestly tracked.

Meanwhile she started explaining ghost theory AT him and CJ listened with the intense concentration of someone trying to catch a snitch while also realizing halfway through that the snitch might actually be a patch of wibbly wobbly golden airspace again.

His brows pulled together.

"So the ghost is basically… borrowing people battery?" he asked slowly, fingers conducting an invisibly symphony. "Like one of those portable charger thingies? Or like machines do in the Matrix?"

Talk about a film that gave a person an existential crisis. No spoons. Everything is chicken. Déjà vu.

Anyway, his brain couldn't possibly stop moving for even one blessed second now ― which was not a guarantee of anything smart coming out of his mouth.

"Wait. If a ghost borrowed energy from another ghost… would that make them, like, renewable? Ghost cannibalizing another for spirity energy? You think either Cloggs or Burbage did that and THAT'S why they're professors?"

Before she could fully recover from that ask sentence, the Gryffindor had already leaned forward onto his elbows with his chin dropping into both hands, staring at her with blatant wide-eyed, mouth agape awe.

"Yo, by the way, you're, like… crazy smart." Then an impish grin crossed his features. "Maybe you should tutor me or something. Though my track record with smart pretty blonde girls here is kinda dragon dung so far." He pointed vaguely toward his own nose ― which, for the record, had mended nicely and not gone all crooked or nothing. "First one launched a goblet at my face hard enough to rearrange my ancestors. Never had that happen to be before but... There's a first time for everything."

*squidnie* · Today, 03:05 AM

“Nothing,” Cat said quickly, almost before CJ had even finished asking his question. She wasn’t about to explain that to him. She was also (basically) sworn to secrecy about the phrase, anyway. She wasn’t about to break that trust.

His next words brought to her brain a few terrifying images. The worst one being the Gryffindor somehow trying to brew said elixir and a variety of horrors that could ensue. She had a similar urge to the one she had a few minutes ago; to completely deny that she’d said anything at all on the subject and forcefully move on. However, the scraping of the chair on the floor and the lack of trust she had in his various liquids to stay in their assigned containers distracted her from being able to truly take control of the conversation while she had the chance.

So, here she was, somehow talking about batteries and the Matrix - a word she only had a vague recollection of and which made her feel completely out of her depth.

“That’s not -” Sweet Circe, this boy truly never. Stopped. Talking. Cat’s eyes briefly flicked down to the half-full mug of butterbeer in her hands. She took a deep breath to ride out the sudden urge to repeat the Opening Feast Fiasco.

His next words - since she had no way of getting her own in edgewise - struck her. She felt her face heat up and immediately lifted her mug to her lips for something to do, and as a tactic to hide her face a bit. He thought she was smart?

Wait. He thought she was pretty??

… he thought Marina was pretty?

Well, of course he did. Marina was very pretty. He’d be crazy not to notice.

Cat felt dizzy. How was she even supposed to respond to all of that?

“It’s because you kept referring to her as a pasta sauce.” Was he still unclear about that? “Marina doesn’t make it a habit of throwing dinnerware at people.” Cat paused, tilting her head slightly. “By the way, your nose seems to have healed normally.” Did he know?

The conversation seemed to be veering into uncertain territory for Cat, though, so she immediately steered it back to a place that felt more stable. Potions. “Ghosts don’t need to eat other ghosts. The whole point of the Draught of Ephemera is to give them a body. Although - and I do think this is important to say out loud - the potion is frowned upon. Like, it’s kind of a gross, Evil Wizard sort of thing to do. You can’t even find the ingredients anywhere.” Not that she had looked. And, if she were telling the truth, she wondered if it would be in the restricted section. “You literally use a person. To my understanding. So… more like stealing batteries that someone is actively using, rather than using a portable charger.” Was that vivid enough for you, Mr. Troll?

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