Ever since the events of the previous week had come into light Diana had to resist the urge to actively pursue any curiosities that came across her path whilst browsing in Diagon Alley. Mrs. Wellington was not very pleased at having to reign in her charge, though from Diana's perspective she didn't quite see why the older woman was so touchy. As a well seasoned (yes almost too seasoned) debutante, she knew society's viewing of her was getting more speculative by the minute, however, there were no questions about her ability to behave. Allegra would say her daughter was many things, but a debutante evading her chaperone was not amongst that list.

Even so, Diana had to bear in mind that Mrs. Wellington was perhaps not the best partner in crime to go exploring in new places with. Tavie would perhaps be a better partner for such adventures, but that would also require Diana to be married for them to go about Diagon Alley without a disgruntled Mrs. Wellington.

Diana shook her head and focused on the task at hand. Tavie was about to have a weekend in Hogsmeade and she intended on getting her a small welcome present. Most shops were familiar, but Diana was intent upon exploring those rather unfamiliar ones. Those remaining of the ones she didn't know were still vibrant and haphazard in outward appearance. One she came across, however, was unmarked.

Various trinkets – those that were beyond Diana's knowledge – hung out in the display window and, much like her attention, the mission for a small present for her sister was momentarily diverted. With Mrs. Wellington in tow, Diana found the door to the place open. "Hello?" she called. A thin layer of dust was absent from the place, which led the debutante to believe it wasn't abandoned in any way shape or form. There was a front desk in place, looking for all intents and purposes like one should be.

More of the curious trinkets hung above her in a quietly rotating mobile whose contents winked at her as they moved in the light. The more she looked at it, the more she got a sense of foreboding; one that told her perhaps she ought to keep her nose where it belonged and not in anyone else's business. To further drive home that thought, the sound of a door slam cracked through the air. Diana shrieked and pivoted on the spot, intent on heading for the door as quickly as she could. An action that was quickly impeded by a figure in front of her, backlit so she could only make out a shadowy figure at the doorway. She shrieked again, cowering against the front desk and slapping a gloved hand over her mouth.