Howlet's Wing

[Gervaise Ollivander]

It was, Gervaise supposed, an easy enough mistake, particularly if one were in a hurry and saw only “doxy”, less the “wings”. The delivery error was a minor inconvenience, of course, but nothing to cause the wandmaker any real aggravation. Besides, it was a sunny day (as all days had been for quite some time, though he had yet to see any real effects of the drought yet), so the wizard had little reluctance to leave his workshop and make his way over to Weasley’s.

A silver bell tinkled overhead as he entered the Beast Boutique, the closeness of the air—laden with pet dander and the faint, though distinct, scent of animal dung—proving a stark contrast to the light June breeze that swept the High Street. It took only a few moment’s for Gervaise’s eyes to adjust to the mustiness of the light—fortunately, it was not dissimilar to that of his workshop.

As if he had all the time in the world, the wandmaker made his way leisurely to the counter, where it did not appear that anyone was working. That was a surprise—the door had been decidedly unlocked, and the sign in the window had been unfailingly flipped to ‘open’.

“Hello?” he called out, hoping someone was in the shop that could be of help.

Table by Lola

[Amelia Evans]

Amelia was in the back again, sorting boxes. Thank goodness, the witch thought, that there was such thing as magic -- it saved her a great load of back pain and trouble. Levitating a few boxes around, Amelia pursed her lips in concentration, her multicolored eyes scanning the labels as she arranged them.

Once those were arranged, Amelia made her way out to the front of the shop, and was stopped half way by another shelf that was a bit more than haphazard looking. Sighing in mild annoyance, she raised the cedar wand, about to fix it, when she heard the front door open, and a voice calling out.

Expertly flicking her wand to adjust the shelf, Amelia entered the main body of the shop, gave her apron a smart slap to rid of any dirt, and stowed her wand in the apron's pocket. Brushing a stray hair out of her eyes and hoping the customer didn't gape at her strange eyes like they normally did, Amelia cleared her throat. "Hello," she said amiably. "I'm sorry, I hope you have not been kept waiting long. What can I do for you sir?"

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[Gervaise Ollivander]

It did not surprise him that Weasley himself was not at work—from what he knew of the redheaded wizard, the shop’s owner liked to leave the business to people who actually knew what they were doing—however Gervaise spent little enough time in the Beast Boutique that the woman who appeared from the back.

She was a pretty thing, the wizard noted appreciatively, though he very much doubted she would be the sort to tolerate much nonsense. Her eyes, though, were something else entirely, and the wizard quickly drew his attentions to the shelving behind the counter so as not to stare. He had seen such a peculiarity (eyes of different colors) before, but that had not been in any place he thought this young lady likely to frequent.

“Not at all,” Gervaise replied amiably. “Though I hope you weren’t doing anything too important when I called you away.” A friendly sentiment, but the phrasing did not pose itself as a question. “Gervaise Ollivender—I’m told you might have a misdirected package of doxy wings for me?”

Table by Lola

[Amelia Evans]

She could not help but inwardly frown as the customer quickly averted his gaze to behind her. The soft smile stayed on her lips though, and she curtsy'd as he introduced himself. Well, at least he was not blatantly staring like some rude people, Amelia had to give him that. She noticed he was quite handsome, though she was not one to be fooled by outward appearances. She had learned that the hard way.

"Amelia Evans," she stated, before nodding, remembering the frazzled looking deliverer of the message. She could not help but laugh at the memory, and covered her laugh with her hand. "I'm sorry --" she apologized. "I am not laughing at you. The delivery man was a bit hard to forget."

Turning her back Mr. Ollivander, Amelia scanned the shelves, looking for the brown package she'd set aside. Picking it up, the witch turned back to the counter and placed it in front of the wandmaker. "There you are, Mr. Ollivander," she smiled. "I'm sorry for the confusion!" Her brow furrowed as she run up the price. "We usually are more efficient than that. I hope it did not cause you too much trouble."

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[Gervaise Ollivander]

“Oh no—I don’t blame you for anything!” Gervaise insisted, shaking his head. “The delivery company, however, does leave something to be desired; it never ceases to baffle me that owls have a greater success rate in delivering mail than people.”

That much was certainly true. Only two of the wand shop’s many suppliers insisted on delivering products via an actual human deliveryman, but if he was a gambling man well, if he actually engaged in gambling since recently evening up all his debts, and didn’t wish to avoid another round in the thumbscrews Gervaise would have wagered no less than one in five such packages wound up somewhere other than where they ought to.

“Besides,” he added with a good-natured grin, “if I were to blame anyone here, it would surely be Weasley—and that only to give him a hard time.”

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[Amelia Evans]

His geniality brought a smile to the witch's lips. With a small laugh, she looked down at the register. "Poor Mr. Weasley," she said. "I'm sure I give him enough pestering already with asking him to improve the lighting in this shop." It really was truly horrendous when she had to read labels on small packages, and casting a lumos charm didn't help when you didn't have a hand free. "Oh but don't tell him I talked about it again," she added quickly, with a small dismissive wave of her hand. "It's not my place, for I am hardly the shop manager!"

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[Gervaise Ollivander]

The shop was rather dim, the wizard agreed, but then, so were most shops on the street—his own was only well-lit in the rear, and that simply so that the wandmakers wouldn’t kill themselves accidentally. Not dim enough, mind, to hide her rather unique eyes, but the wizard thought he was doing a good enough job at not eyeing them obviously.

“But I daresay you spend more time in the lighting than he does,” Gervaise pointed out wryly, and not without a tinge of jealousy. He truly liked his work, but thought there must be something freeing about not worrying overmuch about the running of one’s business. Even with his father and brother involved with Ollivander’s, the wand shop still commandeered most of his waking hours. “No, a little pestering goes a long way with Mr. Weasley,” he winked slyly.

Table by Lola

[Amelia Evans]

Amelia had to agree, the handsome wandmaker had a point. Other shops along High Street had even dimmer lighting than this shop, which made Amelia question why, since other shops needed better lighting than hers.

She also had to admit, his wink made her take a timid step back and she visibly flushed, looking down at the ground. He was quite handsome indeed... -- internally shaking herself out of her momentary embarrassment, Amelia continued, "But being a wandmaker you must have better lighting than this place. I daresay you need it more than we do!"

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[Gervaise Ollivander]

“Oh, yes,” he affirmed. “Our work bench actually runs along quite a large window, and we have several lights throughout, particularly for working at night. Wandmaking is a delicate art; if you can’t see what you’re doing, you’ll make a mistake—and our mistakes tend have greater consequences than most. It’s one of the reasons why shops like ours are so successful; you can make your own robes, maybe even your own cauldrons, but it’s very rare for someone making their own wand to go well.”

He stopped there, realizing he’d run away with the conversation. Sheepishly, Gervaise added, “You must excuse me—I get rather enthusiastic where my work is concerned.”

Table by Lola

[Amelia Evans]

so so sorry it's taken a freaking month!

Amelia smiled in amusement as the wandmaker talked about his profession. Such a similar expression of eagerness and wonder dawned on her face whenever she talked about animals. His apology made her blink in confusion, until she realized that not everyone might have the same passion for their professions. Mr Ollivander might have assumed her to be in that majority of people who considered their line of profession a mere job, and not a living.

Although she considered it more than a job, Amelia knew she wouldn't be able to work with animals for much longer. She had to find a husband in the next few years, and hopefully that man would let her keep a few animals to take care of. The witch found herself laughing lightly in amusement, and she shook her head, waving away his apology. "Not to worry, Mr Ollivander," she said glad she could relate to the customer in some way or another. "I find I get the same way when I talk about animals. Though I do not believe mistakes in my line of work consist of the same consequences as the ones in yours. Pray, has anything drastic happened?"

She could not help her mild curiosity. After all, if he was so willing to talk about his profession, some questions about it wouldn't hurt, would it?

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[Gervaise Ollivander]

Gervaise needed little encouragement to continue—her actively engaging him was more than enough.

“Not to me, nor, fortunately, to my brother or father. I do remember, though, as a young boy my father telling me the story of how his younger sister became his younger brother—however briefly,” a pause for dramatic effect, before continuing.

“He has never told us the specific combination that she was working with, for fear we might try to replicate it as a prank—I was, perhaps, nine when he first told us the story, you see. It was an ill-suited wood for wandmaking, though, and I suspect a veela hair, for they can be quite nasty if they’ve the mind to be. The lighting was poor, my dear aunt was inexperienced, and though her face was much the same when she left the workshop—save for the most aghast of expressions—her body was…was no longer suited to the dress she wore, and a thin amount of stubble had grown upon her chin!”

Gervaise chuckled then, for as many times as he had heard the story (his aunt told it much more somberly, mind, than his father ever had) it still did not fail to entertain him.

“It took a fortnight for Grandfather and a nearby healer to put her properly to rights; at nineteen, I daresay aunt was one of the few brides with a non-scandalous reason to be acquainted with the male form before her wedding night!”

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[Amelia Evans]

Amelia found herself looking fondly at the wandmaker as she realized that he seemed to have the exact same level of passion for his profession as she did for hers. The tale he spun was indeed hilarious, and she fought a fit of giggles to no avail that eventually made their way out of her throat. Reaching up a hand to cover her mouth, her eyes twinkled – the image of a poor woman growing one two many chin hairs was too much for her and she started laughing again. "Oh and on her wedding night? Oh dear, your poor aunt!" she said, doing her best to sound sympathetic, and most likely failing.

Nineteen....Amelia was already three–and–twenty, and she wasn't exactly a woman that most men came running up to. In fact, she had the feeling most shied away from her because of her eyes. No matter, she would continue working in the shop until the day she would have to stop. Half of her wanted it to be soon. The other half did not. "I hope the rest of your aunt's special day went more according to plan? No more unwanted body hair?" She tried to fight another laugh as she said it.

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[Gervaise Ollivander]

It seemed the young lady had misunderstood him, but Gervaise did not have the heart to correct her—and besides, it was much more entertaining a story if it did happen on the day of Aunt Gabriella’s nuptials!

“Fortunately,” he laughed, “she married a quidditch player, so being perhaps a bit intimate with another man was not wholly unusual to him—if you’ll pardon my being so coarse,” Gerviase added. Though there was nothing salacious about team bonding, he knew from his days as beater for Gryffindor that players could be a bit more hands-on with one another than the typical relationship between two gentlemen.

“She has not had the same passion for wands since, though; she does little bits here and there, but I daresay she is far too attached to skirts and bonnets to risk it again!”

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[Amelia Evans]

Like a proper lady should, Amelia let out a small laugh, though blushed at the wandmaker's comment. It didn't unsettle her too much – merely quite interesting to think about. "It's perfectly understandable, though, her avoidance of wandmaking," she replied, smiling. "I daresay I would be disinclined to hover around the shop if suddenly one of these cages started attacking me at random."

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[Gervaise Ollivander]

Gervaise laughed.

“I daresay Mr. Weasley would not begrudge you a day off if it were to preserve your well-being—nor that he would have many customers if it became a risk! But then,” he added, “are you never uncomfortable around some of the surlier beasties? I remember my mother once had the most atrocious cat—sweetness and light when she was around, but the devil when she left the room—and I shouldn’t like to be tasked with tending to such a creature if I did not have to.”

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[Amelia Evans]

"I'm glad you seem quite confident of your friend's disposition," Amelia replied, looking down at her hands. Drumming them gently on the wood, Amelia thought of any times where she was uncomfortable with the animals she worked with, and shook her head. "Not since I started working with them. Of course when first starting a hobby or profession, one does feel a bit out of sorts and awkward, but no instances where I've been attacked, or animals have been unruly have led me to think about quitting."

As timid as she may seem to others, Amelia truly was a Gryffindor for a reason. "When dealing with larger animals, as long as you understand their position and not make any sudden movements, it's quite easy." She looked up to the upstairs where they kept the larger animals and smiled at the wandmaker. "Would you like to see some of them? They're quite tame, I assure you."

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thank you! ^_^