She rubbed her gloved hands together against the cold as she entered Honeyduke's, the tinkle of the bell above the door all but drowned out by the chatter of voices within the shop. Though she had joined the first expedition of students for the day—the last Hogsmeade excursion before the Christmas holidays—she had stopped first at the broom shop to pick up some polish for Hermia. Honeyduke's was alive with festive cheer and Hogwarts students eager for a sugar high, though Clementine's own spirits were somewhat more subdued: one year ago today, her father had passed suddenly and startlingly, and the remainder of the week-end would be spent in her family's company.

The list of those she had to shop for was reasonably short:

— Hermia, who would receive some broom polish and some of Honeyduke's fudge
— "Portia", who, too, would receive fudge as well as [appropriate small gift]
— Mama, for whom Clementine had already finished a lovely watercolour of a clementine branch
— Ford and Noble, who were mysteries. Maybe stationery, of some sort?
— Verity, a series of monogrammed handkerchiefs stitched whilst Clementine struggled to stay awake for her astronomy lessons
— and Grace, a second-hand pocketguide on the art of conversation acquired over the summer months

(Part of her wished also to pick up something small for her favourite professor, but would that be too much?)

Seeing the fudge counter had a bit of a wait, the Hufflepuff made her way instead to the brightly-stocked shelves of Bertie Botts beans, chocolate frogs, licorice wands, and every colour of bonbon one might possibly have a desire for (and some she did not know were colours at all). It was a display of sugar quills, however, that drew Clementine's attentions, at least until she noticed the customer nearest her trying to get something down from a shelf that was clearly not intended for those who were not employees of Mr. Honeyduke himself.

"You must be careful," the sixth year cautioned, "or else it might f—"

Her warning had not come swiftly enough.