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The Rude Ones in the Lounge
There was a long wait on the uncomfortable chairs covered in scratchy jazzberry colored weave. Auror Potter's waiting room was a hub of strange antics and unique people. She sat in the corner, hands folded on her lap, waiting the return of her Severus.
"Snape's back—and he's got a broad with him," the shorter one said.
The taller one sneered, "I thought he was dead, the nasty old git—pity. But who's the girl?"
Their voices faded as they sauntered down the hall, leaving Elaine shaking with bewildered fury, desperately wanting to chase them down and demand an apology.
Jazberry, #82