"Yeah, the... the hot chocolate thing, please, strong as you like,"
she decided. That sounded good. She could always start on the firewhiskey a little later, since the Spiked Hot Chocolate came so highly recommended by the barman at the Three Broomsticks. "Thanks."
Aoife had always been a fan of New Year celebrations. Her family used to have a huge party for all their friends - not this year, since her father hadn't been too well - that she loved. This year, she hadn't got any plans, so after considering working late, then considering sitting alone at home, she'd decided last minute to hit Hogsmeade for the lights she'd heard were so nice, and whatever complete shit in a glass the Three Broomsticks happened to be serving specially for the occasion.
Forcing down a sip of the awful hot chocolate as she left the pub, Aoife wandered around outside trying to find a seat. The narrow streets were full to the brim with people that didn't really fit, and Aoife couldn't even see the supposedly beautiful lights because of the abnormally tall man blocking her view. Eventually, after much wrestling through the swarms of people, she came across a little bit of wall that she could stand in front of in peace. Well, relative peace - her eardrums were deafened by the shouting and music, but at least from here she could see the fireworks, and possibly the fireworks when it was time.
She placed the demonic hot chocolate drink on the floor beside her, unable to handle another sip at least for a while. God knew what was in that thing, but there certainly wasn't much hot chocolate. She reached into her bag for a chocolate frog. She was starving (it had been almost three hours since she'd had dinner) and it was unlike Aoife to go anywhere without snacks. It was a common misconception that chocolate frogs were only for children, which she hated, but no silly rumour like that was going to stop her regular Honeydukes visits. Aoife O'Donnell ate whatever amphibian themed confectionery that she liked.
Deciding that she was best off just getting herself a bottle of firewhiskey, Aoife sighed as she realised that the crowds, somehow, seemed to have grown even more, and there wasn't a chance in hell she was making it back to the pub without a couple of broken ribs. But she had always been a fighter and a moron, so with a cheerful grin she began pushing through the swarms. And then she ran smack bang into someone coming in the other direction - totally not her fault - and found herself flying backwards and landing on the cold stone floor. "Tonight's just not my night," she mumbled.