Stefana frowned as she put down the latest edition of the Prophet. She really wasn't sure why she still read that drivel; they had denounced her cousin and made up all sorts of inane lies, as well as spread the M.A.G.I.C. Act. It was times like these that made Stefana glad that she worked in the Muggle world, at least that world wasn't descriminating in terms of her blood (at the this point and time). Her shift had recently ended and she had stopped to read at her favorite park bench.
She got up and stretched, stuffing the paper into her bag. Pushing her gold wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose (her Kirby glasses had not come in yet, aw!), she turned to her right and started to walk briskly. An intern at the BBC had to learn to walk fast, her ability for extreme powerwalking made her wonder sometimes what had happened if she had chosen to be a Healer instead. She bet that she could have made a great Healer; Healers were always running around, and Stefana had gotten that down. Except, you kind of needed the specific grades and the aptitude, and Stefana had none.
Making her way through the somewhat busy street, she expertly wove a path through, while making plans for tonight. She could always unthaw the frozen roast chicken in her freezer, or make a sandwich. Oooh, with that new roast beef slices she had bought...
Okay, so the girl didn't really have a lot going on in her life. That did
not mean that she was boring, okay? She just like to... plan everything out, that didn't mean she was boring. In fact, she was the antithesis of boring, she was -
Whatever she was, that description would have to wait, because in the middle of planning desert, a startled Stefana found herself falling to the floor, thanks to a jostle by a very busy-looking Muggle businessman. "Thanks for helping me up!" she yelled sarcastically to his retreating, blurry back, because her glasses had been knocked askew, oh where... Her fingertips touched the wire rims at the same moment another person's. Hey, she knew that arm!