Post by daph on Dec 8, 2004 0:22:47 GMT
Hogsmead was as it always was—agog with the licentious desires of the future of the wizarding world. For herself, it was the pull of the small second hand book shop that filled these weekends with appetency. At home, she had multitude of books; books on every subject she, or her sister, or even her patents, had ever had even an inkling of interest in. It seemed that even the endless shelves of leather bound pages could not quench her thirst, and once again she found her fingers dragging along the well worn spines. Her nails tapped lightly as she read the title of one book after another, allowing the soft clicking to flood out every other noise there was.
She would never know how long she spent in that nearly abandoned shop, as time seemed to simply stand still in the dim and dusty setting. Time did not stop though, and when the sun had dipped low enough so it cast shadows on the floor at her feet, her honey-colored eyes fell upon a heavy, deep green book, the gold calligraphy on the title worn with time, Modern Magic in Practice and Theory.
After coins had been exchanged she stepped back out onto the street, wrapping her jacket a little tighter around her to project herself from the cutting wind. She spent only a moment standing there before deciding that she would spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the comforting warmth of the Three Broomsticks fire and a tall mug of butterbeer—even if it was where every other witch or wizard over the age of thirteen would be.
Three Broomsticks was its typical rush of excitement, just as she expected it to be. She found herself standing near the edge, easily lost in the crowd. Her gaze scanned the room before finally locating two young Slytherin’s trying to weave their way through the maze of tables and towards the exit, abandoning a small polished table that seemed to implore for a new occupant.
Making her own way across the room and to the table, she settle down on one of the chairs, and laid her new book on the table in front of her, opening it up to the first chapter, and telling herself not to become too infatuated, as she needed to keep an eye out for Madam Rosemerta if she wanted to get a butterbeer.
She would never know how long she spent in that nearly abandoned shop, as time seemed to simply stand still in the dim and dusty setting. Time did not stop though, and when the sun had dipped low enough so it cast shadows on the floor at her feet, her honey-colored eyes fell upon a heavy, deep green book, the gold calligraphy on the title worn with time, Modern Magic in Practice and Theory.
After coins had been exchanged she stepped back out onto the street, wrapping her jacket a little tighter around her to project herself from the cutting wind. She spent only a moment standing there before deciding that she would spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the comforting warmth of the Three Broomsticks fire and a tall mug of butterbeer—even if it was where every other witch or wizard over the age of thirteen would be.
Three Broomsticks was its typical rush of excitement, just as she expected it to be. She found herself standing near the edge, easily lost in the crowd. Her gaze scanned the room before finally locating two young Slytherin’s trying to weave their way through the maze of tables and towards the exit, abandoning a small polished table that seemed to implore for a new occupant.
Making her own way across the room and to the table, she settle down on one of the chairs, and laid her new book on the table in front of her, opening it up to the first chapter, and telling herself not to become too infatuated, as she needed to keep an eye out for Madam Rosemerta if she wanted to get a butterbeer.