Well he was in trouble. Art shifted his weight from foot to foot. "She left it on a bar in the Three Broomsticks," Art said, fixing Miss Scrimgeour with a fuck-you stare. "It's in a jar in the office." He wasn't sure that it could even be reattached now; after spending time on the bar in the Broomsticks and then in a jar Art had lying around for Merlin knows how long, well... Probably wasn't in the best, cleanest condition.

It wasn't his problem, though.

"That's Miss Scrimgeour, you see," Art said, with a handwave and eyeroll meant to encompass the girl's entire disastrous personality.

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