"Marvellous!" declared Anachrovica as she smiled blissfully, clattering down the stairs of the bus in her utterly impractical shoes. She paused for a moment, as she eyed the rotting flanks of the asylum and then frowned. One did have the uncanny feeling that something had been forgotten... now what was it? Breath mints, check. Her very nice mascara, a classic shade of lipgloss, her toothbrush, all present and correct. Facial wipes - oh, there they were, hiding behind a little bottle of Miss Dior Cherie (Lovely!).
Anachrovica rootled through her bag a little further and then beamed as she pulled out her wand (12", ash, veela liver. Family heirloom, darling. What's left of grandmaman.) "Ah! There we are!" she trilled. "Pip pip, tallyho!"
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