School Shopping (open)

Mercy studied the design that Mimosa had chosen. She knew the other girl was trying to be nice, and she didn't want to hurt her feelings by expressing distaste, but she really didn't like dresses very much. They were always so constricting, and you had to be so careful with them.

"It's pretty, but I'm afraid I'd get it dirty," she explained apologetically. "Besides, Mam only gave me enough money for my Hogwarts robes, I can't buy anything else."

Mercy listened as the other girl started talking about work. Work? With designers? She gasped as she came to a realization.

"Are you a fashion model?" She turned to look at Mimosa, seeing the girl in a new light. She'd never met a fashion model before. Weren't they all supposed to be dumb and stuck-up? But Mimosa seemed nice enough. Maybe it was only the grown-up ones that were mean.

Mercy wondered what had happened to Mimosa's mother, but she thought it might be a sensitive topic, so she let it be. Instead she focused on the other word, which had made her pause.

"What's a Clara?" She asked. Was it the name of a person? Or maybe it was some American slang for a nanny or something. Mimosa spoke fondly of her, whoever she was. Mercy hoped she was a good replacement for Mimosa's mam.

Despite all of Mimosa's efforts, it was clear Mercy wasn't liking the idea of a dress. the long haired brunette didn't really understand but she did know that she didn't have to. Mercy could like and dislike things that were beyond other people's understanding. The realization dawned as a bit of an epiphany, making the child remember the friend she had met in the Museum almost a week ago..

Her reasoning sounded like something Victoria would say. The little witch grinned.

"That's okay, we can put it back," she offered, taking away the book and fabric. Maybe one day when she and Mercy knew each other better, they could talk more about it. At being asked if she was a fashion model, the girl concentrated for a moment before answering.

"Sometimes. other times I also model for toys and candy and a whole bunch of other stuff. Last time I was in the UK I was doing a set for the new theme park. It was really weird because the park wasn't open so I had to pretend to have fun on a ferris wheel when there was no ferris wheel," she explained. The child knew there had to be some kind of magic to the advertisement because when she had seen the ad, the park was there when the girl clearly remembered her photo shoots taking place in front of a bright green backdrop.

"What do you do in your spare time?" Mimosa asked politely. She worked so she figured every child would do something too, and she was really interested in knowing what Mercy did.

"What's a Clara?"

"Clara is my Godmother," the little witch explained with a smile. "When i was younger, people used to ask me why I didn't have a mom and dad, and I asked Clara. She said it was because I was super special and had a Grandpa and a Clara instead." The way Clara had phrased it, everyone had a mom and dad, but Mimosa was too special to have those so she had a Grandpa and a Clara.

"Clara is a psy-kick," she elaborated, blue eyes open wide in seriousness. "She also says she sees the future, but not all the time." Looking around as if the older American witch would appear through the shop door, Mimosa whispered. "I don't think she's very good, but no one is brave enough to tell her that."

Mercy was relieved when Mimosa didn't seem too upset or offended that she'd shut down her recommendation. She gladly turned her attention to the other girl's description of her job, intrigued by the idea of working at such a young age. None of the kids Mercy knew had jobs yet--she'd always considered work to be an adult issue, which she would worry about when she was older.

Modeling sounded kind of fun, but Mercy didn't think it was the kind of thing she'd like to try more than once--especially if it meant standing still, and having to dress up in skirts and frills. She'd be willing to model for sweets or theme parks though, especially if she got to eat the sweets afterward.

When asked about herself, Mercy shrugged. "I don't have a job or anything like that. I usually play football with the boys, or sometimes rugby. And there's an older boy named Callum who lives down the road, he's got a broomstick and sometimes he lets me fly it, as long as I don't go high enough to be seen by the muggles in the city. I like to go exploring by the docks sometimes too, or in the city, or anywhere really. Mam and Dad homeschool me, so I have some flexibility in my schedule most days, and I can go exploring if I want to."

She listened intently as Mimosa explained who Clara was. She nodded her understanding, and her eyes lit up as Mimosa told her about Clara's psychic abilities.

"We used to live a few doors down from an old lady who could see the future. Dad said she was crazy, so I wasn't supposed to talk to her, but I did sometimes anyway. She invited me in for tea once, and her house smelled funny and made me sleepy, so I didn't stay long. She was nice though, just a little weird."

"Rugby?" the little witch asked, confusion once again the dominant expression on her unusually symmetrical face. "Is that a game played on rugs?" If it was anything like sock sliding, Mimosa would be behind it a hundred and twenty percent. She and Charles had sockslid once and even if she had gotten terribly bruised afterwords, it had only taught the young witch to cast a cushioning charm on the area beforehand.

The girl paid particular attention to football and flying, two past times she was well aware of to different degrees. Mimosa knew of football as every American knew of the Superbowl. That is, she knew that when it happened, everyone got lots of food and took to yelling in front of their TV as the national pastime. Flying though was something she had always personally loved.

"Oh, you are lucky! I love flying but I'm not allowed to do it on my own. And I don't even have a real broom, just a toy one that only goes up to here." To demonstrate the unfairness of the universe, Mimosa held up her hand to a little above her own head. "Can you imagine, a broom that won't even reach the ceiling," she concluded, the distaste clear in her voice.

"I hope Hogwarts has lots of brooms you can fly on, then you won't have to borrow your fiends'." As she said this, her eyes wondered to the former line of students being ready for fittings. The line had been relatively long when the two girls had walked in but now there was only one student left. "Hey look, it seems like the uniform line is smaller now, let's go before more people show up," she suggested, walking with Mercy to get her fitted for her school robes. Mimosa was very interested in watching the whole process herself, never having gone uniform shopping this way before.

When they were in line and Mercy was telling her about their street psychic, Mimosa listened carefully, intent on telling Clara about another one of her kind. Clara had always said people with the gift were rare. Surprisingly enough when Mimosa had asked her if Clara was rare, the older witch had only laughed, saying no, she was a dime a dozen.

"Well Clara isn't crazy, per say," Mimosa began, quoting her Grandpa word for word when Mimosa had asked him the same question many years ago. "Just a bit cooky, but we're all a bit cooky in our own way, at least that's what Grandpa says." Mimosa still wasn't sure exactly that that meant but the way Grandpa had said it implied it was an important thing to live by.

Mercy laughed at Mimosa's question, remembering that they didn't play rugby in America. "No, rugby is like American football, but the rules are different and it's more fun. You don't wear helmets, and there's more wrestling."

She suddenly remembered something else that was weird about America, which might have caused some confusion for Mimosa. "Oh, and when I said football earlier, I meant what you call soccer. We call it football, which I think makes more sense, since you kick the ball with your foot. Only Americans call it soccer for some reason."

As she followed Mimosa to line, she nodded enthusiastically. "Mam says Hogwarts has a flying class! And I'm allowed to get my own broomstick next year if I want to try out for the quidditch team."

Mercy considered Mimosa's grandpa's words with a grin. "Kooky. That's a fun word. Your grandpa sounds nice."

As the last student in front of her went up to be fitted, Mercy started a bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. She was next. An attendant finished up and motioned for her to hop up on a little stool, which she did with gusto. Following the attendant's instructions, she held her arms out to the side and stood as still as she could while a little tape measure flew about and measured her of its own accord. She'd never been fitted for anything before, and she found it to be a very interesting experience. She giggled a little as the tape measure wrapped around her waist. It was kinda cute, the tape measure. She wondered if it had a name.

Mercy's face fell a little bit as Mimosa pulled out her phone. "Oh, I don't have a mobile. Mam says I can't get one til I'm twelve. We have a home phone though, and my parents have mobiles. I can give you my Mam's number if you want? She doesn't use hers all that much, and she lets me use it sometimes to take photos and stuff. I'm sure she won't mind if you text me through her."

After a bit of thought, she added, "I won't be able to text you from Hogwarts though. Oh, but we can write letters! I don't think an owl could fly all the way to America, but I could send a letter to my parents addressed to you, and they could take it to the post office. And then you could send your reply to them, and they could owl it to me. We could be pen pals!"

As Mimosa's grandpa entered the shop, Mercy beamed and gave a little wave in greeting. The attendant frowned and tsked at her, and she quickly put her arm back in place.

"Hi, Mr. Harrington sir! You went to Hogwarts? Really? What house were you in?"

The attendant finished up what she was doing, seeming satisfied. She motioned for Mercy to put her arms down and hop off the stool, then she went to the back of the shop, coming back a few minutes later with Mercy's robes in hand, neatly folded.

At Mercy's question, the distinguished American gentleman grinned, a grin that remarkably matched his granddaughter's, making it clear where Mimosa had learned it from. "Good old Slytherin," he replied jovially, making the youngest of the two witches frown slightly. There were those funny words again. "Though i dare say i made my way around the other houses often enough." Then, almost as if catching himself, the man stopped, instead turning to Mimosa instead.

"So, what will it be? Did we find a color Clara would like?"

"I don't know," the almost nine year old replied, pointing to the pattern book she had left on the other side of the shop. "There's a book there but Mercy and I couldn't decide. Can't we just get everything and then Clara can go through it all?" Though she had come into this shop to look for dresses, the young girl no longer found shopping to be on the forefront of her mind, she was much more interested in noting down Mercy's mother's mobile number.

"Very well," her grandfather agreed, pretending to roll his eyes but unable to keep the fond smile from his face. "If you two ladies would excuse me, I'll go sort out that book." With that, Kit disappeared momentarily with a shop assistant who looked like she couldn't believe her ears. Away from the girls, the two adults discussed matters of payment, Kit making his way to the counter a few minutes later and extending his card to the witch who took it as though in a dream.

"Hogwarts can't have phones?" Mimosa turned to Mercy, a worried expression on her face. Unlike Mercy's mother, Mimosa had been told to always keep her phone on her, in fact, one of the first things she'd been taught was to call nine one one in case of an emergency. Perhaps there just weren't that many emergencies in Ireland?

"Alright, I'll text you my US address for the letters, though owl mail will be quite strange. I've never had an owl before, we just use emails for everything in America," she explained.

Kit returned a moment later, the shop girl still at the counter directing her wand to pile up boxes after boxes of fabric in a neat row. "Shall we head off then, sweetheart? Or would you like something else?"

Mimosa considered the question a moment, then shook her head. "No, I think that's all." Turning to Mercy, she gave the older witch a quick hug. "Good luck at Hogwarts, I'll text you." she spoke before raising her hand in a wave as Kit took her other hand.

Mimosa waved all the way out of the shop, and even from behind the glass door until she disappeared from sight. It would only be when Mercy tried to pay for her school universe that she would find out two things. Firstly, Kit Harrington had bought the entire uncatalogued when his granddaughter couldn't choose a dress. And secondly, he had also paid for Mercy's school uniform as a small gift.