The Inn cordially welcomes its first Metamorphmagus...
The Outside Inn has seen plenty of people. And a few people who come in regularly at different ages. But it's possible (and likely) that the Inn has never seen someone quite like the person who's about to enter.
There is a muffled yelp on the other side of the door, and then a thump, and then the door bangs open and a small figure tumbles in, more cloth than person.
"Bloody robes," it grumbles, in a teenaged girl's voice, and a sturdy, heart-faced girl gets up, brushes herself off, and struggles to get her black robe off, a rather normal pair of shorts and a t-shirt underneath. Then she looks around, eyebrows raised.
"Huh. Haven't seen this in the common room before..."
There is a muffled yelp on the other side of the door, and then a thump, and then the door bangs open and a small figure tumbles in, more cloth than person.
"Bloody robes," it grumbles, in a teenaged girl's voice, and a sturdy, heart-faced girl gets up, brushes herself off, and struggles to get her black robe off, a rather normal pair of shorts and a t-shirt underneath. Then she looks around, eyebrows raised.
"Huh. Haven't seen this in the common room before..."