Jack stalked down into Diagon Alley, her hands balled into fists, a scowl fixed on her face. As she got into the thick of the street, she slowed her pace, loosened her fingers and relaxed her stance. She did not always need to look as though she were about to murder someone. She, personally, was rather fond of the countenance on her, but if she kept it forever, she would live a very lonely life. Then again, at this point, that was rather welcome. Her company was made up of friends who used her, friends she disappointed, and angry poltergeists who could never make up their mind. Yes, Jack definitely could do with a lifetime of solitude now.
She slowed down and realized that she had little purpose for being there. She remembered that she needed some new quills and a few rolls of parchment and instantly altered her path. Unlike many of her peers, Jack did not do all of her school shopping in one outing. No, because then her purposes for going to Diagon Alley would run out, and that was not good. Any excuse to escape the prison society called home was a welcome one, even if it meant she had to drag out her school shopping over a span of weeks, rather than hours.
She dove into a shop and emerged a half hour or so later, slipping parchment into her knapsack. She admired the gleaming feathers on her new quills before storing them away. Her eyes scanned the street; perhaps she should finally get a new backpack. Her leather knapsack was disintegrating.
She began to walk down the street, though after awhile, window shopping and walking got much to tedious for her taste. She veered over towards a bench and plopped down on it. she turned her head and her keen eyes began to follow the people walking down the street. She cocked her head and sighed. She would kill for a simple life, but she would not mind a little adventure now either.
((I really would love plotting!))
by 
