Sorry for the wait, but... I cannot be bothered to think of a fake excuse, so I will give you the real reason, I'm was nine lessons behind in Russian, so my mum enforced her authority for the first time ever and I have been practicing. I'm on a plane.

This is the afternoon of the previous chapter, not a new day.

Shopping and Sheep

I was in a good mood from my mum agreeing to let nana take me, unfortunately this meant that I utterly forgot to take my usual 'safety measures' for shopping trips with my mum, they are normally as follows:

Wear the sluttiest things I own so that she does not insist I need more 'girly' things.

Take some form of muggle mobile communication system, so that I can pretend to receive phone calls and avoid conversation.

Memorise the correct spells to turn things into woolly jumpers and jeans (I would usually 'borrow' my dad's wand for this).

But, with my terrible memory, I forgot to take any of these measures, wearing a maxi dress and leather jacket, leaving my phone, my sister's phone, my brother's and my father's phone in their respective drawers and forgetting the spells until the last minute, shoving the 'Guide to Clothing Transformation' into my bag, resolving to learn them on the way.

'Daisy!' My mum called from downstairs, just as I was leaving my bedroom.

'Coming!' I replied, hastily, to avoid another shouting conversation.

'I've just got off the phone!' She shouted, before realising I was standing next to her, 'Oh, there you are darling, I've just got off the phone with your nana, she wants to come to, so we're bringing Penny.'

Not bothering to question her logic on the Penny front, I asked the more important, in my opinion, of the many questions that should of been asked, 'But she doesn't have a floo powerful enough for more than one person to travel in quick succession, how are we going to get to muggle London if not via the Leaky Cauldron?' I dreaded the inevitable answer.

'Why, muggle 'public transport' of course,' she stated as if there was nothing wrong with her travelling like that, 'it's been a few years since I've done it, this is a good opportunity.'

'Okay, well, let's go!' I said, through gritted teeth with feigned enthusiasm, secretly hoping to get it over with quickly.

One hour and several awkward moments later

'Erm, mum, this is Oxford Street,' I pointed out 'you said we were doing a small girly shopping trip.'

'I know, darling!' She said with infuriating excitement at the idea, clearly having never been there on a Saturday, the day before school before.

I resigned myself to the idea of a hellish day of Hollister and Superdry, and, probably far to dramatically than I should've, closed my eyes, took a deep breath and entered the crowd.

The first land of torture, or 'shop' as my mother would call it, that I was dragged into was Hollister, I would've worn earplugs, a torch-hat and a gas mask, had I been in possession of them at the time, because, as soon as I entered, three and a half of my senses were rendered totally useless, I had to rely solely on my sense of touch to get around. In this shop I was 'lucky enough' to receive a see through beige top with 'Hollister '67' written on it and a mini skirt whose colour I was unaware of.

After a stream of more clothes that looked like they should be worn by, how to put this gracefully, night walkers, we finally went to get coffee. I tuned out of the intensely boring conversation and got my book out from my bag and started to read it, while pretending to look through my new clothes, if you can call them that. After becoming confident of my knowledge of the spell, muttered it while quickly jerking my wand up and down. It seemed that nothing had happened 'Whatever,' I thought, 'I'll just do it when we get back home.' How very wrong I was...

After I looked back up and pretended to be interested in the conversation, which I think was olive oil versus sesame oil, I heard a low rumble from all the bags containing top-like-objects, 'That was odd,' I thought 'the spell's never had a late reaction before, maybe there's just too much there...'

So, being my curious self, I put my head right into the bag to take a look, and a sheep hit me in the face, well, seven sheep hit me in the face, hooves first. I started rubbing my already forming bruises, then realised that the bigger problem was that muggles had just seen two black sheep, three green ones (one with silver stars) and two hot pink ones, both which had disgusting curly, girly, gold hearts on, thank Merlin I didn't have to wear those.

What was most strange about these multi coloured sheep nibbling bits of muggle's clothing in a coffee shop was, surprisingly, that they didn't seem to notice. I turned back towards my company and saw my little sister, holding my mum's wand so hard her knuckles were white 'I cast mugglem repello.' She stated, as proud of herself as I was.

I started to cast the counter to my previous transfiguration, when my sister grabbed my arm, 'Can't we keep them?' she asked looking up at me with her absurdly cute eyes.

And that is the story of how we got a flock of multi coloured sheep.

Only kidding my mum quickly put that idea to rest, but it was close, so the moral of the chapter is: never stick your head in an Abercrombie bag.