Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions
Diagon Alley, London
11:45am

Hexmerelda Claggin, part-time actress

Hexy strode along Diagon Alley's north end with a vendetta. Okay, when didn't she have a vendetta?

But this wasn't anything to do with besting dueling rivals or undermining the O'Doherty family criminal enterprises. No, this was shoddy craftmanship! Which was nearing the point of a personal attack from sheer abundance of negligence. And if anything ground the intersex witch's pixies into dust it was purchasing products that did not perform to what was proclaimed on the packaging.

Mind, embracing her femininity was a hard wrought aspect of her life after several years of living as a male Hogwarts student. She was late in terms of knowing glamour spells but most spells she could adapt to quickly. And there were a few beauty potions that were supposed to make some of these "effortless looks" all that effortless to pull off.

Coming up short before Madam Primpernelle's, she glanced at her reflection in another shop window to get her game face ready. She draped some deep brown locks behind her right shoulder, letting the left bangs drape over her mottled indigo pantsuit. Complete with a white blouse and a long chain necklace. Pursing her lips, masking inner vitriol. Settling on a wide, tight lipped grin to suggest an air of friendly aloofness. Yet a grin ready to split apart to show teeth gleaming like daggers.

She turned on her heels. Black pumps completing the steps to Madam Primpernelle's. The shop bell dinged.

Hexy ignored everything else on display, focused on the front counter where she set down a shopping bag. "Hello, sorry to trouble you." Play nice at first and then go for the jugular. She leaned in slightly, arms spread wide over the counter as she drummed her fingers. Her voice had a slight rasp. "I need to file a customer complaint."

Ella had been late for work. Of course. But really, that time it wasn't her fault. She promised! Her boss wasn't having it, though, and put the young lady on till duty.

'Perfect,' she thought, pouting quietly. 'Just perfect. The day I actually WANT to sit at the cauldron, I'm kept from it.' Ella snarled in annoyance and rested her chin in her cupped palm, bending at the waist to lean on the stained wooden counter.

Of course, she couldn't rest for long. Of COURSE a customer would come plodding in and interrupt her tortured 'why-me' reverie. The sound of cheap shoes on the floor brought her back to reality, and she sighed deeply before righting her posture.

'My god,' she thought, giving the disgruntled woman a once-over, 'how much was that suit? 300? 350?' One corner of her mouth twitched as a sense of superiority bled over her. 'Practically clearance price. How poor must she be?'

"Welcome to Madam Primpernelle's. How may I - " Interrupted midway through her tepid greeting, she simply blinked. Her smile would have fallen if she'd planted one on her face to begin with. Customer service wasn't her forte. It's why she prefered to make the elixirs.

She pursed her plush, glossed lips and slowly scanned the scene: a bag, a glass bottle inside, a terse smile, tense eyes... and terrible hair. Ella feigned a cough to hide the slip of laughter that bubbled in her stomach, and her lips blotted themselves to prevent the snide grin that threatened to break out. After clearing her throat, she squared her shoulders and stood taller.

"About what?" She asked simply.

Hexy

She eyed the perfectly coiffed, honey haired, well-made up witch in the expensive clothes poised behind the counter...and almost wanted to gag.

Maybe there's such a thing as too many beauty potions? Although this witch was spared from the side effects of her faulty order, to whit Hexy had come to complain. No sense of misplaced infatuation so not a part-Veela although the clerk was really trying to look the part?

As an Occlumens, such critiques were masked by the veneer of her friendly yet pointed expression. "You'll be a great help if you can remedy what was wrong with my order. Or let me know who can. I placed a delivery request a fortnight ago, under Hexmerelda Claggin."

She extracted the tallest bottle from the bag. "Because this 'Glamorous Glow-Up Gel' did anything but. I had a nasty skin rash for three days that looked like roofing shingle. This fragrance," another shorter bottle, "is less Morning Dew and more Storm Drain. The hygiene cleanser had the consistency of chalk, complete with powdery residue."

A medley of bottles were set out. "Thankfully the bath salts had no issues. But three wrongs and one right? Not a good look for the shop."

Ella watched Hexy with a straight face devoid of even a drop of curiosity. She stood before her, absorbing the information she was given and doing nothing with it. Her eyes even began to glaze over a bit.

A few seconds of silence passed when the disgruntled customer finished her tirade, and Ella merely blinked. Her doe eyes landed on each potion and rested a while before once more meeting Hexy’s gaze. Her lips parted, and she spoke.

“We apologize for your subpar experience. However, we cannot process your return.”

She pointed a manicured finger to a sign slung over the back of the register. Without looking, Ella recited it with the excitement of an exhausted teacher.

“Madam Primpernelle’s is not responsible for any allergic reactions or disparity in matters of taste.”

She lowered her finger and shrugged lazily.

“While unfortunate that you experienced an adverse reaction, such is the risk one assumes when trying a new product. You were free to test the fragrance,” she continued, pointing to the short bottle, “prior to purchasing.”

She inhaled slowly, and as she exhaled, the witch spread a wide smile on her face. Customer service at its finest.

“The cleanser, though, we would be more than happy to exchange for you.” Ella emphasized the term: exchange. Not return. Hexy would not be getting her money back. Not if she had anything to say about it.

Hexy

The well-coiffed witch had a glazed look in her eyes. How was this so difficult to process? Sure, sitting in a pastel colored, overly fragrant beauty potions shop didn’t sound like a great career. Hexy would have hated keeping a job like this. But what happened to a modicum of decorum? Of standards? The clerk’s bored tone suggested she didn’t even try to put forth the barest effort of customer service.

And yet she could read the shop’s disclaimer sign as if she had eyes on the back of her head. I sincerely hope she’s not involved with the original travesty…

Hexy kept her smile big and pleasant. False pleasantries she could keep up in her sleep. “See, I wasn’t wanting a refund. I’m familiar with the shop policy. I want the correct potions from my order.” She leaned further over the counter.

“I’ll give M. Primpernelle’s the benefit of the doubt. I couldn’t have come in a few weeks ago to test the product. Hence my order for delivery. But in my customer file there is a shortlist of things I’m allergic to, I pay extra for variant recipes.” It thankfully wasn’t the full monstrosity of a scroll but it had the most particular allergens, like almond extract.

Finally, the clerk spoke words that made sense. “Happy to exchange,” she set the bottle back towards Ella. Like two cats in a litterbox, passing an unwanted disgusting clump from one side to the other. “As for disposing the rest, I could do it unless the brewers want to know what they got wrong. For reference.”

Her fingers ran along the side of her neck in thought. “How long would it be for the replacements?”