people are strange \ open

[James Ignotus Potter]

It was a rather warm day. In fact warm probably wasn’t the best word to use it was more that uncomfortably clammy sort of weather that caused your shirt to stick to your sides and made your feel as though you own skin didn’t fit right. One of the last few of summer. James Potter had come to realize it was usually upon these types of days that people would insist that you shouldn’t be left to your attempts at trying to cool off and instead should be dragged around against your will. At least that seemed to be the stance that his mother had taken on the subject when the post had arrived that very morning with his annual book and supplies list for his next term of school which had resulted in his being dragged from his room where the widows open had been open in all their glory and he’d been caught in the cross breeze between them as he’d lain on his bed.

The cross breeze between the open windows had been absolute perfection to James who’s plan on a summer day such as this had been nothing more then laying there watching as the toy snitch had floated lazily about the room. That had been the dream at least, yet now he wound himself about to be dragged unceremoniously around Diagon Alley to purchase new books, supplies and robes since apparently the ones he was currently in possession of weren't good enough.

James was rather bitter about the whole situation, especially since Bridget had been saved from coming by one of her friends from school who's house she had ran off to the night previously. His mother was purchasing her supplies for her without her present and James was making it very clear that he felt the same treatment should apply to him as well.

Exiting the Leaky Cauldron, soot still on his shoulders from traveling by floo. James squinted in the sunshine outside and pushed his sunglasses further up his nose in an attempt to protect his eyes from the sun's glare. Almost instantly his mother was pulling him into a shop, forcing him to look at items in which he had no interest (mostly since they were for her and had nothing to do with his school list) he replied to question including "is this nice? and "do you like this colour" with only grunt and shrugging his shoulders so that by the third shop his mother had ordered him away stating that she would collect him later when he was less annoying.

Feeling thoroughly relieved James made his way down the street with the intent of perhaps taking in the new supplies at 'Quality Quidditch'. He paused every now and then, considering window displays in certain shops and looking uncomfortable in the heat of the day.

' ' outfit!

[Xanthe Lynnette Murder]

Xanthe ran her hand over the beautifully crafted handle of the newest Nimbus model in the showcase window. She stared over it intently, the emerald of her eyes beginning to shine with admiration at the golden plated “Nimbus 300” on the tip of the maple-wood handle.
This broomstick was perfect for what a Chaser needed to soar through the Quidditch field. It had everything any player could possibly want and need in a broomstick… just wholly flawless in its existence.
The Slytherin’s fingers searched ruthlessly for a price tag. This was something she just had to have, a much needed upgrade from her outdated Comet model. From what Xanthe was able to understand, Nimbus was the top of the line, used for professional Quidditch players around the world. To be the best of the best, she’d have to have the equipment for one.
Her reason for being here was to take a short trip to Knockturn Alley. Not for a dark, rare product, no, but something like that. Murder had an idea of some hex she wanted to try out with an old ring she had inherited from her Mudblood grandmother, just for kicks. It’d be interesting to see some poor Muggleborn child wriggling on the floor, foaming at the mouth. A funny thought that made her smile, but it was in the back of her mind now that she was set on purchasing the Nimbus 300.
Searching around the shop past cleaning kits and home sets, she found a stock-boy. A kind, younger man who she thought might be able to answer her questions.
“Excuse me,” Xanthe said with and unusual polite tone, “how much for the Nimbus 300 over there?” She extended her arm, the sleeve of her black robes skirting past her wrist, pointing to the broomstick at the window.
The man blinked over to it and placed his hands on his hips, his lips pursed slightly. “That one there costs seventy Galleons.”
Xanthe’s mouth gaped and she turned to glance back to the broom. “Really?”
“Yep. Top of the line, that broom is. More Galleons than most folks can afford unless you’re privileged or just plain rich. Pity that the common wizard like us have wait years for such a large amount of cash, eh?”
She watched as the stock boy picked up a box and slid into the back room before twisted again to the broomstick she’d never be able to afford. She walked to it one more time to slide a resentful finger over the plate.
I would be both rich and privileged if I was pureblood.
Lifting her gaze, she met with the form of James Potter. Xanthe instantly felt her teeth grind together angrily, her toes curling from the jealousy and hate that rose inside her chest.
She made a dash for the dark wooden door, a “ding” sounding behind her as she exited. Her neck craned to the right to make her move for James, allowing the door of the Quidditch shop to swing shut behind her. She hadn’t forgiven him for all he had done to Severus in the past, so she naturally had a grudge against him as well as all the Marauders, excluding Remus of course.
“Oy, Potter!” she called. “I’ve never seen you alone before. What gives? Did you piss off your butt buddies?”

[/size]