School Shopping (open)

Having received a Hogwarts acceptance letter on her eleventh birthday, Mercy was practically bursting with excitement, unable to wait for the coming school year. She still had to wait an entire summer before she could actually go, but her letter had come with a shopping list, so there was one thing she could do right now. Since her mother had already planned to visit her parents in London this week, she figured she may as well bring Mercy along and stop at Diagon Alley while they were there. After a quick stop at Gringotts, the impatient girl dragged her mother straight to Ollivanders wand shop. She didn't really care about anything else.

Entering the old, dusty shop with a grin, Mercy gazed at all the boxes of wands, one of which would soon be hers. She bounced lightly on her toes, unable to keep still. After a few moments, Mr. Ollivander greeted her. She payed very little attention to the short conversation the man had with her mother, but snapped quickly into focus when he disappeared and came back with several boxes. He handed her a wand.

"Sycamore and unicorn hair, thirteen inches, slightly bendy," he informed her. "Give it a wave."

She swished it rather flamboyantly. With a sharp crack and a clatter, a nearby shelf collapsed. The wand was snatched from her grasp and replaced with another one.

"Holly and unicorn hair, eleven and a half inches, brittle."

Another swish, the sound of shattering glass, and again the wand was replaced.

"Yew and phoenix feather."

Boxes flew off their shelves and crashed to the floor.

"Ebony and dragon heartstring."

A strong gust of wind knocked over a tall ladder with a bang.

"Hmm, I think we're getting closer." Mr. Ollivander strode contemplatively over to a shelf and pulled out another box. "Try this. Ebony and phoenix feather, twelve and a half inches. Unyielding."

Even before she touched it, Mercy knew it felt right. The polished black wood gleamed, and, though it was relatively simple and unadorned, she thought it was beautiful. She took it gingerly, the weight feeling almost familiar in her hand, and gave it a wave. Gold sparks shot out of the tip.

Five minutes later, it was hers, and she was walking out of the shop. She beamed as she held her new wand aloft and stepped out into the street, her mother in tow. Her mother handed her a bag of coins, and told her to go to Madam Malkin's to get fitted for robes, while she went to Flourish and Blott's. They'd meet up at the ice cream shop in half an hour. Mercy, still admiring her new wand, began to wander down the street.

Mercy turned to see a girl maybe a couple years younger than her. She was pretty. And American. She peered into the shop that she was about to enter, trying to see what "black dress things" the other girl was talking about.

"Oh, I think those are Hogwarts robes. I'm supposed to be getting mine today too, that's why I'm here." She paused for a second, then, "What are you here for? You're not old enough for Hogwarts, are you?"

As they entered the shop, Mercy realized she was going to have to wait in line. Ugh, she groaned inwardly. She wanted to get this over with so she could get ice cream. There were still four people who had to go before her, and she hated waiting.

She turned to the girl beside her. "I think all of the attendants are busy. Do you want to go explore the shop? There's a bunch of cloth and stuff to look at."

She wasn't really interested in cloth, but she needed some way to pass the time, and fabric offered a tactile experience that was just appealing enough to draw her in. Plus, if the other girl came with her, she might make a new friend while she waited, and that was always fun.

The older girl's response only served to confuse Mimosa more. "What'a a Hogwarts?" the long haired brunette asked, confusion writ clear across her smooth, doll like features. "And why do they only wear black there?" Having grown up in America and as a model no less, Mimosa couldn't imagine a life more drab than one where you had to wear black all the time.

"I'm just here to get a new dress," she explained happily when asked for the purpose of her own visit. "My grandpa said I could get a new dress so he sent me to look ahead and see if I like anything. But I'm not sure, do they have other colors?" she asked curiously, her blue eyes taking in the older witch.

"I think all of the attendants are busy. Do you want to go explore the shop? There's a bunch of cloth and stuff to look at."

"Oh that sounds fun!" the little girl exclaimed, following this new person into the shop. Perhaps the trip wasn't a waste after all. "I'm Mimosa by the way. Mimosa Harrington. I live in America but I'm here with my grandpa for a "working holiday", it means we have fun but he also has to work. What's your name?"

The chatter came out quickly and excitedly in usual Mimosa fashion, glad that she had finally bumped into someone her own age in this foreign land. Mimosa had met quite a few people on her trip but they had all been grown ups. Now she had a chance to speak to someone who made more sense. Finally!

Mercy couldn't believe the other girl hadn't heard of Hogwarts. "It's only the best magic school in the world!" she exclaimed. "My mam went there when she was my age, and I'm going in September. I think the black is just a base until you get your house, and then part of it changes to your house color. Mam was a Hufflepuff, so she wore yellow."

At the other girl's answer to her first question, Mercy made a face. "I don't really like dresses, it's hard to run in them."

The two girls wandered further into the shop, toward the selection of fabrics in the back.

"I'm Mercy, Mercy Williams. I've never been to America, what's it like? I live in Ireland, but Paw Paw and Gong Gong live in London, so Mam and I are visiting them while we get school supplies."

"Hufflepuff is one of the four Hogwarts houses. There's Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Mam says I'll be a Gryffindor," Mercy explained, as she picked up a bright red fabric. She listened attentively to Mimosa's description of America, nodding her head. She'd seen pictures of California beaches--they were always so pretty, with palm trees and everything. She'd like to go there one day.

At Mimosa's latest revelation, Mercy stopped what she was doing and turned to her with wide eyes. "What do you mean you're not allowed to run? Who stops you? How do you have fun?"

She couldn't fathom it. Mercy ran almost everywhere she went. How could someone stop a person from running? Anyone who imposed such awful restrictions must be a very mean person indeed. To her, no running was the same as no freedom. It meant being stuck in your house all day with nothing to do. How did Mimosa survive?

Mercy wasn't quite satisfied with the girl's explanation--after all, she fell down a lot too, that was all part of the fun--but she didn't push it. If Mimosa didn't mind not running, that was her own decision, weird though it may be. Instead she listened to the other girl's offer, smiling at the thought, but shrugging.

"Dad says traveling's expensive, so we don't do it too often. I'd like that though, California sounds nice."

As Mimosa held up the light blue fabric, Mercy rubbed it between her fingers. "It's soft, I like it. The blue looks better on you though, it matches your eyes. Mam says dark features go well with deep colors like red, which is good, 'cause I like red. And Gryffindor's colors are red and gold. But I like blue too, it's pretty. I never really pay much attention to the colors I'm wearing, as long as my clothes are comfortable."

She picked up a spool of cream coloured cloth with an olive green pattern stitched into it. She didn't really know much about fashion, but she pursed her lips like she was seriously considering something, then nodded and said, "This would look good with your complexion."