bright light city

( Ginny and Lily and Neville too, I guess )

Okay, I'm sick and tired of everyone's kids but mine showing up. And if my future me is actually future me I am doomed to die rich and fabulous but completely by myself. Which is honestly bullocks!

I know this is a tad desperate, but there's no way I'm letting my mum be right about me. Plus, this worked for the weird blue girl so....

ATTENTION GENTLEMEN.

If you are good looking, intelligent, an amazing lover and would like to share something very special with me in the pursuit of creating life, please contact me here. Marriage is preferable, but not required.

( Picture for the discerning. )

Thank you

Right. Well this is bloody priceless.

What in the name of Merlin is going on here?

I think I would distinctly remember coming to America. Particularly Las Vegas. Oh my word, was I drugged? I told Lav those boys looks fishy! Never trust a man who thinks it is acceptable to wear trainers to a dance club! If I'm going to be toppling into bed with bloody back spasms from stilettos, then he can put on a decent pair of shoes.

Or, no...what if....have I suffered a terrible accident and fallen victim to a tragic case of amnesia? I can only assume that it will fall to the brightest and best looking surgeon in the city to nurse me back to health. Incidentally, I've heard strawberries are extremely good for nursing frail, yet beautiful, young women back to health. Particularly when served with Champagne.

Hello?

Doctor?

( Filtered to the current inhabitants of The Warehouse )

Today, a very pretty blond woman smacked me on the ass and then apologized and ran away. I admit to being confused.

My mother is engaged to someone who is not my father. This makes me very uncomfortable.

I would like a drink.

All right, the joke is over.

I can't afford to have another tattoo hexed off. It was painful enough after I broke up with Archie and then Hortie.

I'd like to go home now, even if this place is much more posh and there's no leaky faucet. I have a plant to water. I refuse to let another one die on me. What am I supposed to do with this piece of plastic? Is it a portkey?

James Sirius Potter! If this is some sort of practical joke, I am going to hex you six ways from Sunday!