Halloo there. This started with four characters made with liberal use of random generators and an online dollmaker. I have absolutely no idea where this is going or even if I will continue. It's really just a bit of fun, so forgive the randomness.
From a well trod staircase up from the dungeons, a large knot of fourth year girls stepped into the silence left by the tidal wave of sprinting, whooping boys that had vanished from the corridor only seconds before. Stormy grey skirts rustling against the floor, the crowd maintained an excitable trot before ducking into a convenient alcove. They crowded in, regardless, in their giddiness, of social class and all other inhibitions that would be faced upon exiting. The more intrepid and climbing up on the sills to create space. There commenced the ritual of shedding robes and those ghastly, masculine, green (and a few Ravenclaw blue) waistcoats which were promptly treated with a shrinking charm and stuffed in robe pockets, bags and between the pages of roughly used school books. Faces which had remained hopelessly blank throughout Potions Mistress Tremlett's arduous efforts formed expressions of critical consideration as they took on the delicate process of arranging skirts into a fashionable bustle or something at least more acceptable than whatever frumpy look the professors seemed bent on imposing on them. Then, to whatever would occupy their evening, after the customary 20 minute delay thanks to Dear Professor Tremlett.
"Hi there! Heery!" an impatient voice chased after the swiftly exiting group.
A slender Slytherin girl bringing up the rear hesitated, but before she could turn around, a hand grabbed the back of her robes and pulled her to face the Ravenclaw who had been pursuing her. Oblivious and not caring anyway, the rest of the crowd continued its self satisfied saunter. The newcomer must have been more than a head shorter than the Slytherin (a trait that earned her the affectionate and often admiring nickname 'Small') and attractively plump and wore an expression of extreme irritation. Lenne Crosby, thought the captive, fairly brilliant, thoroughly adored but with a passionate temper – this can't be good. She knew she had sold something to her but... what was it? She couldn't quite remember.
Lenne remembered all too clearly. She gave the quizzical look which faced her some time to arrange itself and in the meantime fixed it with an irascible glare. She noticed that her adversary had not removed her waistcoat, but that didn't mean anything to her. The truth was it was so stuffed with notes about anything and everything that the Slytherin considered it far too risky to take off that particular item in the heaving mass of girls that surrounded her, lest something important should fall out and be consigned to oblivion. The only reason she partook in this strange weekly act is that everyone knew that to walk on by would mean ridicule. So she took this opportunity to make something more graceful of her floor-length skirt and to pass out her special invisible skirt pins to the ever-desirous hands of her classmates, in the hope they might remember her in future and perhaps even buy something off her. Lenne herself had been busy rifling through some of the books in the potions classroom, having had to wait awkwardly for Dear Tremlett to stop her hemming and hawing and 'do you want anything, student'-ing and leave. She gave up early on and remembered she had some unfinished business with that confounded Slytherin Vivian Heery, whom she had given five galleons for what turned out to be a worthless piece of hogwash.
"I want my galleons back. That stupid owl-thing you sold me went and broke."
Vivian instinctively bristled and stood up straighter in indignation. Inside she cringed. The owl! Of course! For months she had been thinking near constantly about mail – what was regular owl post lacking? She had created several prototypes of automated owl figures, they had been a surprising success but she still had no idea what compelled her to sell one of them. They weren't finished – they hardly did anything! But she had, for a tidy five galleons while checking its flying technique near the Lake. She wondered at the possibility of the early model having failed; it could well have happened. Still, an insult on her wares, however questionable, was an insult nonetheless.
"That's a valuable piece of charmwork!" she cried, "What have you done to it?"
"I didn't do anything! On Friday I found it bashing itself repeatedly against one of the outer walls. Took me a fair while to rescue it, as well. Then on Sunday it, flying through the window it performed a triple somersault and before anyone could blink ended up in pieces across half the Ravenclaw table!"
The small blonde's frightening passion checked Vivian's hostilities for a moment. It was still a marvel how the girl had managed to get from the end of the corridor to yanking the velvet of her robes before Vivian could even to turn around. She pondered what could have gone wrong with the prototype, or Jason as she had called him. Then she pondered how she could ask for the pieces back without losing face. Frustration at this situation brought on another bout of antagonism and she growled,
"Damn you, you have no idea how long that took to make!"
"Well it was clearly a dud, and I want my bloody money back!"
"You shan't have it! And I don't sell duds. Maybe if you'd listened as I was giving you all the information you'd undoubtedly need to work it..."
"I think I can work out how to look after a simple charmed object..." at this point her voice dropped, not sounding so certain but just as irate "at least one which isn't defective."
"Oh really-"
It was an unfortunate situation for poor Hufflepuff Palatine Moulds to end up having to pass by in the corridor, when she had only come down here to see Tremlett about a piece of work.
I will probably do a second chapter to see how Miss Moulds fares and I also have a Gryffindor character who may make an appearance, although I have no idea how.
Any reviews (and suggestions ¬¬) would be gratefully recieved!