Characters: Malfoy and Fabian, anyone who'd be there.
I was quite prepared to run to London on every whim of Narcissa's at the minute, to be perfectly honest. However, this was quite probably a much more reasonable need than some of them, so after buying a few more...interesting items, I suppose, I went to the apocathary to pick up some potions. However, as things tended to be, service was incompetant and took far too long, then the Welsh girl at the counter had the audacity that curfew was approaching, so she could only serve the next five people. Well, I was having none of that and managed to make my way to the front of the line by hook or crook (the fact I was queueing at all was preposterous really), except now I only have five minutes to get home, and none to give a few choice words to the stupid, slow girl behind the counter. I'd seen her somewhere before, and by the horrible, dirty look she gave me, a Malfoy, it can't have been a good circumstance. I certainly wasn't asking her if I could use their fireplace. That would be entirely demeaning when she turned me down. Welsh cow.
This is why I need lackeys that can actually screw something as simple as this up. I couldn't trust any of them with my wife, let's face it. I stepped out into the street, fully prepared to relay this story to any Aurors which were prowling around. It was deathly silent, and I must admit, I was somewhere between amused that I'd been part of causing it and perturbed at the sheer scale of it.