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Desk
May 28, 2009 21:23:17 GMT -5
Post by Administrator on May 28, 2009 21:23:17 GMT -5
Ready to make your purchase? You're at the right place!
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Desk
Jun 28, 2009 1:00:39 GMT -5
Post by Clytemnestra Noctis on Jun 28, 2009 1:00:39 GMT -5
Clytemnestra boxed up a package of dungbombs for a pimply-faced student, who giggled incessantly with his equally hideous friends as he waited to pay. Clytemnestra brushed a strand of hair out of her face. It was a plain muddy workday brown today. Clytemnestra went by the name Henrietta in the shop, and she thought the plain hair and thick glasses suited such a name. It pained her to dress so badly, but better rough robes during the week than another decade in Azkaban.
It had been several days since the attack now. Clytemnestra had deemed it safe to return to her day job. She thought it would be far more suspicious were her alter-ego to disappear. So, she took her place behind the counter and tended to obnoxious filthy scum all day. The only thing that kept her sane was imagining all the horrible ways she could kill every one of them.
One of the loitering students tossed a crumpled bit of parchment over her shoulder. It bounced off of Clytemnestra’s head and rolled across the counter. Fingers tightening dangerously around the box of dungbombs, Clytemnestra mouthed the words to the killing curse under her breath. She hated this job. This was not a position worthy of a devoted servant of the Dark Lord.
Once the ugly students had been sent on their way, Clytemnestra stalked toward the shelves and began organizing the collection of nose-biting teacups. Foolish wastes of time. When the Dark Lord came into power, Clytemnestra would humbly request that he eliminate all joke shops. As Clytemnestra angrily shifted boxes, another student bounced over and asked which nose-biting teacup Clytemnestra thought was best.
“They’re all the same, you –” Then Clytemnestra realized that she recognized this little beast. He was a third-year Ravenclaw, who came in during every Hogsmeade trip. He was also, Clytemnestra knew, an unabashed Mudblood. Smiling slowly, Clytemnestra plucked one of the nose-biting teacups off of the shelf, softly whispering a charm that increased the cup’s biting power tenfold. “This one is my personal favorite.” She set the cup in the Mudblood’s hand, careful to avoid letting his skin touch hers. “Try it. See what you think.”
Then she walked back to the counter, biting her lip to stifle a smile as the Mudblood began to scream. She would have to tell her manager that they had received another defective shipment of products. Thank goodness she was here to spot these things.
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