His most helpful tone was not very helpful in this case, as Bella quickly found herself shifting from indifference to overwhelming despair, and quickly from there to anger. A scowl appeared on her face, and Bella tipped over her own pint — a sacrifice if she'd ever made one — to let it spill onto Mr. Pettigrew.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so drunk," she apologized in her flattest, most #sorrynotsorry tone.

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— MJ is MAGICAL —

The liquid cascaded from the countertop and onto the knee of Art's trousers and his hand that rested there. He swore loudly and yanked himself out of the way, scooting his barstool away from the bar. His mouth flattened into a straight line and, he shook the liquid off of his hand and in Miss Scrimgeour's direction. The pint kept dripping onto the floor.

He scowled at her for a beat, and called, "Bartender!"

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   Bella Scrimgeour

Bella flinched as the liquid flew into her face, and after letting out a scowl, stood up (well, maybe wobbled was the correct phrasing) from her seat and moved away from the gentleman (could she even call him that?).

"Hope you have a good life, Petty-grew," she hissed before readjusting her outfit — including her hat and hair, which she positioned to obscure her features once more — more drunkenly apparating away in a crack.

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— MJ is MAGICAL —