xgeorgetteollivanderx - Tumblr blog

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

There had never been pain like this. Unforgivable curses; she supposed she they were unforgivable for a reason now. No one deserved this hurt. Georgette had emotional scars and now she imagined her body would never heal from what what being done to her. She was sure she would always feel the pain scouring through her veins. If she stayed alive that is.

“Pretty when she begged.” If only she had something to say. Even if she did her voice box wouldn’t allow it. A tear fell down Georgette’s cheek. Not only was she being physically tortured, whoever this was wanted to mess with her mind as well. It was was working.

Finally the masked individual took the wand from Georgette’s side. A small relief. However it was short lived. This person put the wand to her head. Georgette was terrified about what this would mean.

She barely heard the curse before feeling the pain soar through her head. Georgette’s brain was on fire. It crawled down to her chest. Her heart felt like it was going to explode. She groaned and attempted to grab the stone slab with no luck. All she could do was shake and shiver. Her head was slamming back and forth. Georgette grabbed on to her memories of the shop as much as she could to get her through this ordeal. But the pain — the pain. It was unreal. Was she going to make it?

Alecto knew that their time together was limited. To remove a memory, a short term memory, would only allow for a certain period of time. "You sound so pretty when you beg." She sneered, wanting the witch to pay for the way she treated her. No one insulted Alecto Carrow and got away with it. The edge of the wand digging into the other's side is removed, instead Georgette can feel it glide down her cheek. "Crucio." The pain from the unforgiveable curse strikes the witch confined to the stone table. A delightful smile seeps on her features, enthralled by the withering body in front of her.

Moving around the table, hazel hues glance over Georgette, deciding where she wanted to mark the witch, leaving her with a scar that would confuse her come the morning.

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

It took Georgette a moment to realize that Rabastan was actually listening to her instead of getting bored with her rant about the wands. It put her more at ease. She hadn’t found someone to talk so freely about them without their sheer boredom. It was wonderful, she had to admit. Wands were her passion and to have someone so interested began to warm her icy interior as well as exterior. Not entirely but it was there. How Rabastan Lestrange was doing that was beyond belief but it was happening.

Georgette didn’t have a lot of friends. Hardly any if she had to be honest. She had Emmeline, of course so at least there was one. She wasn’t anticipating calling Rabastan a friend by any stretch of the imagination but it was nice having a real conversation. Not many could keep her interested let alone keep her talking. He had some sort of power over the situation but she didn’t dare stop it because she wanted — needed and craved — some sort of attention and he was giving it to her hand over fist.

“I’m glad we can agree that there are secrets worth keeping. One day they might come out but they’re a secret for a reason. I accept your secrets as well,” she said being keenly aware of the splinters in her fingers from wand making and handling. They were a constant reminder of who she was and the love she had for what she did. Sure there was pain but what love didn’t have pain?

Then there was a shift in conversation. A shift that honestly intrigued Georgette and made her think about the use of magic more than she had before. “Controversial, yes.” She raised both eyebrows as she thought. “The wand and the witch or wizard it belongs to is vital in the magical world, that’s true. Without a wand we are just like anyone else. Yes there are other ways to perform magic but the wand is a part of our magical being. Anyone without a wand is, well, different. And, I’ll admit, having been in the wand shop my entire life …it’s odd to think of anyone being without one. I’ve never thought of mingling with muggles. Let’s be honest about what you’re getting at.” Georgette shifted in her seat. “Magic must be protected,” she paused,” but I personally don’t know how I would go about doing so.” She said thinking of her morals.

The more she spoke, the more he listened. His excited interest spread like wildfire beneath a calm exterior, his eyes perhaps the only window to sheer thrilled and hungry delight. Everything she said spoke volumes. These were the causes for which he fought. Blood purity was only the beginning. It was the basis for something far greater. Weakened blood meant diluted magic, and in time there would be too few who were able to achieve the great things she described. He believed it with every ounce of his being. There were plenty in their ranks who would gladly kill muggles or torture their way to power, but there were few who understood why it was important beyond mere selfish greed.

"Agreed," he said slyly, thinking of his own secrets, the greatest lying dormant in almost plain sight - hidden beneath the material covering his arm like a torturous shroud. What he would give to see the day when his commitment could be flaunted in public, given the respect it deserved. All in good time. Ordering her butterbeer, he resisted the urge to comment on the almost zero percentage alcohol content in the original variation - a fact he knew to be true, since it had taken an awful lot of the stuff to make his house elf drunk as a child. The poor creature consumed a large volume and was scolded for obeying such a ridiculous command; a pointless reaction from his own mother, considering the elf had no ability to refuse.

"I have many thoughts on magical use," he told her, once they both had their drinks. The tone shifted marginally, edging towards something more serious. He wanted to keep this interaction casual, but the strength of his faith in such details was too great to restrain for long. "Some of them are perhaps controversial. You said that the wand and the wizard are meant for great things, that the masses are incapable. I believe this is endemic. It could lead to terrible things, to the loss of great magic if there are none left who understand it. But it could also be prevented if we change our ways."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

EMMA MACKEY photographed by Laura Jane Coulson for Pop Magazine Issue 49, Autumn/winter 2023

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

"Of course there are people I know on a cursory level but that hardly equals much of anything now does it?" Georgette asked. "It's impossible to go through Hogwarts without being forced to know who people are. But knowing them is a whole other ballgame."

Lily's choice of argument wasn't a workable one. "The drunkards are part of the problem. I doubt there's a soul in there who hasn't been drinking." Georgette would have been willing to put what little money she had on such an assumption. Georgette was always the only one who didn't drink or touch any kind of drug -- not even pot. All she did was chain smoke cigarettes. With her parents' addiction problems leading to giving Georgette up the last thing the witch wanted anything to do with was mind-altering substances. But that was a story not told. "If you have to drink to have a good time then something is wrong."

Georgette pinched her eyebrows and lit another cigarette. "I think I made a mistake coming out here tonight," she said to Lily as a group of drunks came through the doors. "Nice chat," Georgette said in a half-assed way as she walked back to her safe space. A space she truly needed after such a big mistake.

[ END ]

Lily was doing her best to encourage the other to come in and join them. But of course she knew she also couldn't force her. She also knew she'd had enough to drink that it was equally as likely that she was doing a poor job of trying to be helpful. The cool fresh air outside had done little to alleviate that tipsy feeling. She had to consider her statement for a moment before she shrugged, eyeing the other. "Is that your way of saying you don't know anyone there?" It seemed rather unlikely, there were so many people inside celebrating after all.

"In any of their defense, there are a lot of people in there...many of them completely hammered. I don't think they're likely to notice anyone's absence. I imagine a few might still think they're in there talking to me." She attempted to joke, a smile playing on her lips. "Doesn't your curiosity make you want to go in? At least have a peak at what's going on inside?" She wiggled her eyebrows at the other.

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

The nasty truth of the matter was that Georgette did want someone in her life. She had struggled so much on her own and had no one to share it with. She also had kick ass moments that no one knew about. It was getting tiring keeping to one’s self all the time. She wanted someone to share things with — even if she was bitchy while doing so. There problem was she wanted someone to be around who accepted her just as she was. She didn’t want to change just to please anyone. And she wouldn’t. Probably why she didn’t have anyone in her life. It has always seemed easier to just stay to herself and be herself rather than trying. Trying for Georgette was showing up.

“Knowing someone and knowing someone are two different things,” she replied. Of course she knew the people inside. From school or the shop she knew everyone but that didn’t mean any friendships. She was always looked over in her dirty clothes and quiet demeanor. It took time for her inner bitch to come out. She wasn’t always this way but it’s what she became when she felt she had to protect herself.

“I doubt anyone has noticed my absence,” she admitted in a melancholy tone. “But I notice everyone’s absence.” She took a drag of her cigarette. “I came out of curiosity.”

Lily recognized the other woman, recalled the occasional run in while in school. Georgette, her name coming to her suddenly. She was also sure she'd been the one to mend her wand for her after one particular nasty mission where she thought it irreparable. They weren't necessarily friends, but Lily tried to be friendly with everyone she came into contact with. She only hoped she wasn't making a complete fool of herself in her mildly drunk state.

She frowned at the response, and for a moment she didn't know how to respond. Why had the girl come if she felt no one inside knew her or considered her a friend? She also couldn't understand how someone could be so pessimistic, it clashed with her typically sunny demeanor. "Georgette, right?" She shrugged. "You're here for a reason aren't you? Surely you know someone." She offered her a small smile. "And if you don't consider anyone inside a friend, maybe now is the perfect chance to start?" She paused. "Only if you want to of course...but I think it's worth a shot. We might surprise you."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

The brunette was nosy. Georgette wished she had never opened her mouth. She should have known she wasn’t alone. Stupid Georgette. To think she would have time to herself to decide what she was going to do was an impossible task. She wanted to go home but something was telling her to stay, even if she spent the entire party outside chain smoking. She didn't know what it was. Georgette was not the socializing type. Not at all. So what the hell was she doing? And here was this witch trying to figure it out for her. Who did she think she was?

Georgette didn't know who this person was. She was uncomfortable -- more so than usual. She shifted, working to get away from the other woman, crossing her legs and arms. Closing herself off as much as possible, looking the other direction while smoking her cigarette.

"Try both," she finally said reluctantly.

A moment of air needed in between all the celebrating, all the chatter and the noise. Beatrice didn't mind either but at certain points even someone as accepting of the chaos was bound to demand a breather. It was only meant to be for a moment, something short to let some oxygen replace whatever the crowd had turned the air inside the Three Broomsticks into.

A voice cut into the silence. What had been assumed to be a moment alone turned into the witch being faced with a yet unfamiliar face. "Not one for crowds, I take it?"

The blonde let out a sigh as she sat down next to the other, not even thinking about asking in the spur of the moment. "That, or not very familiar with a group of people you've somehow landed yourself in between." The former Gryffindor turned toward the other. "So, which is it?" - @xgeorgetteollivanderx

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

Georgette didn’t know how she didn’t hear the door open. She must’ve been complaining too much in her own mind to even notice. Immediately her eyes rolled.

Lily — of course she knew who Lily was. Everyone did. She was oh no sweet and open to people but also forceful when she needed to be. She was little miss perfect. Just the kind of person Georgette was not. Nor did she want to be. It was too much work to get people to like you. And for what in return? A big old nothing.

“To have a good time? With people who don’t know I exist? Hardly.” She replied, seriously asking herself why she was there. “Friends? Who in there would call me a friend? The answer is no one. Trust me on that one.” She blew cigarette smoke out of her mouth.

“Friends,” she scoffed. “Yeah right.”

Lily hadn't realized just how much she'd likely drank until she stood. Suddenly it was a little stuffy inside and her head swam. She waited a moment for it to clear before excusing herself to head outside. James was in the middle of a conversation and she gave him a little wave before stepping out into the fresh air. She let out a breath of relief as the cool air cleared her head, and she moved to lean against the side of the building.

She hadn't realized anyone was outside until she heard them speak, opening her eyes as she spotted the other witch. "You were thinking it would be a good time?" She offered, a soft laugh slipping past her lips. "Everyone is having fun in there. It's nice...a night to let go of the stress and spend time with friends."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

where: outside three broomsticks / frank’s birthday. who: open.

Georgette had somehow been invited to Frank Longbottom’a surprise birthday party. Parties weren’t her scene and she had no intention of going but at the last minute she decided to stop in. Curiosity had gotten the best of her. But when she walked in the place was jam-packed.

Anxiety crept into Georgette’s skin. Before going all the way in, she stayed outside. She pulled out a cigarette and leaned against the wall, hearing the door and noise close behind her.

“What was I thinking coming here?” She asked out loud not realizing she wasn’t alone.

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

For some reason Georgette was finding herself almost intrigued by the conversation with Rabastan. She had always found him smarmy and full of himself -- she still did -- but sitting there and talking there was something interesting coming about. She didn't know how she felt about it. She never wanted to have anything to do with someone like him yet there she was, actually engaging.

"I'm glad to hear you say there are idiots in your circle as well. It shows honesty," and Georgette fed off honesty. "For someone to not tap into their true talent is a waste. It's the waste of a wand that has been by your side since you were eleven. There's a reason the wand chooses the wizard. It's because the wand and wizard were meant for great things, not simply spells to open locked doors and simple spells. Wands weren't created for the weak but the masses don't find themselves or what they're capable of and it's shameful." Georgette could talk about wands all day if given the chance.

"Yes, an extension. That's precisely it. There's a reason we're magical beings. A muggle can't walk into a wand shop and be given a real life, living wand. They're not suited for muggles. They're suited for us." She continued. "Without a wand there's only so much magic we can produce. I'm happy to hear you keep yours close to the vest. It's of the utmost importance."

Realizing she had been talking nonstop, Georgette took a swig of her drink. It allowed him time to ask her a question. A question she wasn't prepared to answer. And she wouldn't. "They are worthwhile. But there's a reason they're secret. Everyone deserves their secrets, wouldn't you agree?" she raised a brow. "I'm having a butterbeer. No alcohol."

Georgette was beginning to intrigue him. While her sharp retorts had previously been annoying, he now found them mildly engaging. He knew she was skilled and intelligent, and he believed there was more to discover; a potential that could be unlocked and somehow put to good use. He had not considered beyond that thought, but it was likely to take root and solidify. Once he developed faith and aspiration, he did not easily give them up. He wanted to know more.

"Quite," he agreed, bluntly and with amusement. "But I don't disregard everyone. Only those who are inconsequential, and let me tell you there are plenty of pointless existences in my circle too, irrespective of blood and status. I should think that an unknown talent is in fact more dangerous, wouldn't you agree?"

Her commentary on wands and magical use was pleasing. Moreso, it excited him. He identified with her words and was satisfied to find that she agreed. So he smiled with more self-assurance and looked at her directly. "Yes, an extension of oneself. That is why I wouldn't leave it behind. I would never leave it. It's part of me, more essential than anything else." Considering her thoughtfully, he took a steady gulp of his drink and motioned to order another. "Well, I hope those ways are worthwhile. I would like to hear about them if you're willing to share. What are you drinking?"

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

Georgette wanted to try another bar for a quick trip out of the store. This time The Leaky Cauldron. It seemed to becoming a little more often that she wanted to get out. Just a little. Her home and comfort zone would always be store and the home she had created upstairs but the truth was that she was getting lonely -- but don't tell her that.

She had been waiting for some time. Glancing at her watch she wondered if it was work it to stay but decided to give it a few more minutes. Just then another witch came in. She seemed to have purpose. Running away perhaps. It was all over her face. Georgette was intrigued. But of course the barkeep helped her right away. "What the fuck, man? I've been waiting here and no one has come to help me?" The witch would pay for her drink? How could she say no to that? It's not like Georgette was swimming in extra money. "That would be great, thank you."

When the barkeep came back, she ordered. "Butterbeer, cold and non-alcoholic," she insisted. "You give me alcohol and I hex you." Not kidding in the slightest. It was always her go to when she was in a bar to explicitly say that she get zero alcohol. There was no way she would end up like her birth parents. Getting the cold drink and sipping it for signs of alcohol, Georgette approved and lit a cigarette.

"Well, are you going to say what you're running from? It's plastered all over your face."

ϟ  ━ OPEN

Daisy wasn't sure she would ever get used to appearances. A small crowd in a room, dozens of eyes boring into her skull, everyone here to see her. Am I really that special? To some, yes. To some, in fact, they were a hero - how brave to write a book praising the muggles in a world where only the pure are valued! Daisy Hookum, a paragon of the Order's cause, we should all seek to be more like them. To others, of course, the opposite was true - how selfish to write a book on muggles when you should be grateful for your magic! Daisy Hookum, watch us turn you into the martyr you so crave to be. Of course, to Daisy, neither was true. She wasn't a hero, or a martyr, or a blood traitor. She was simply an author. They didn't even particularly like these events - it had been several months since the release of My Year as a Muggle, and sales had already far exceeded her expectations. But their publisher was insistent that this exposure was only going to benefit them - both of them. And Daisy hated letting someone down.

This particular appearance - a reading and a Q&A - had ended as many of them did: How do you feel knowing you've put yourself and your loved ones in danger with the publishing of this book? A question that had cut the event short, a quick thank you from the bookshop owner and she had been ushered off the stage. They couldn't help but breathe a small sigh of relief as she wrapped her coat tight around her shoulders and rushed out of the store before any further questions could be asked. She knew this streets well, and quickly found herself at the bar of the Leaky Cauldron, their order coming out as more of a sigh then a sentence. "One butterbeer, please - warm, if you can." Daisy paused a moment before quickly turning to the person to her left with a start. "Oh - I'm sorry! Did I cut in front? Gosh, I'm all over the place today, how rude of me - let me buy you a drink, please."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

“I’ve never understood what good a Seer is when they can’t actually see anything. Prophesies are vague and don’t mean anything until they happen.”

Georgette was frustrated. She had let this get under her skin. She didn’t ever believe in Seerers but there was something about this that she didn’t like. She didn’t want to be shrouded in darkness. Her life had already been dark since the day she was born.

“If you had to wager a guess?” she pleaded.

Aurora nods her head at the other, feeling the awkwardness settle in and wishing she was anywhere else but here. "I'm sure it means nothing." She tries to cover it up, not knowing what truth came in them.

"It was a blurry vision, a body surrounded by a cloud of darkness." A small shrug to her shoulders. "I told you, you heard it." Aurora couldn't remember it word for word, but it wasn't on her to remember that stuff.

"I don't have anymore answers for you."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

"It's a plant." Georgette said with no expression. "A plant." This was ludicrous. "A plant doesn't know when you're calling it by name. It's not like a creature." She didn't know much about plants -- aside from wood properties. Then again, she never cared about them. They were boring. They didn't do anything worthwhile. They sat in windowsills and died. "Plants are boring. Get a jobberknoll or something slightly interesting."

Then the Snarfalump spoke Georgette's language. "Fuck you too, Ilene."

Something about the other girl's tone cut sharply through the blissful, dreamlike air that always seemed to surround Pandora. This wouldn't do. She had no time nor patience for any judgemental energy. "Of course I did," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Plants deserve the same basic decency and respect we offer every other creature. They're alive. They have feelings, and hopes, and dreams, and personalities. See?" Gesturing down to Ilene, she watched Georgette's reaction as the Snarfalump's red and green tentacles waved at her, before forming what oddly resembled a middle finger. Pandora smiled.

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

This witch was acting odd. Then again, she should be acting odd considering what she had just said after falling into Georgette. She scratched the side of her face, adjusted her hair, placing it behind her ear.

"So you're a Seer?" Georgette said flatly. "Great. I've had a Seer tell me that I'll be embracing darkness." She groaned not knowing what she could possibly be referring to. Her resolve wasn't full of darkness -- unless the witch considered being a bitch dark. "What else did you see? What do you know?" Georgette asked looking her directly in the eye. She had to have known something or seen something more than she was letting on.

"And, no, if you didn't want these questions then you shouldn't have touched me."

Aurora felt mortified for what happened second ago. There was no controlling her powers, and the last thing she wanted, was eyes on her. She takes a step back, creating more distance between them, moments from making an exit.

"I get visions, or it goes blank and I speak words that are your future." Which was a more complicated way of saying she was a Seer, not wanting to utter that word. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have touched you."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

The screams subsided but the pain did not. It crept through Georgette's body like a disease causing every internal organ to give out. She was sure she was dying. She had to be with that kind of pain. Her facial muscles couldn't relax. It felt distorted and stuck in place. Her vocal chords felt scarred. At least her body wasn't writhing anymore -- that had to count for something.

While Georgette could breathe, the breaths were shallow. She couldn't give an answer to the voice speaking to her. Her mind couldn't even come up with an answer. Normally she would have some sort of smart ass comment about her screams being beautiful but this was not normal circumstances. Georgette winced when the wand dug into her side. She shook her head feverishly when asked if the voice should hear it again and managed to squeak out a small, "please --"

Georgette was a sight before her. The way her body wished to twists in ways that were not natural. The echoing of the screams that filled the stone dungeon, music to her ears, and a warmth washed over the witch. This would teach her to hold her tongue when in her presence, not that it mattered. Alecto would know the pain she caused and each time they would meet on the streets, a delightful smile would seep onto her lips.

A hand waved, the sudden pain disappearing, and the tip of her wand could be felt on the other side. "Has anyone told you how beautiful your screams sound." The altered voice breaks, digging her wand hard into the side of her hip. "Should I hear it again?" There were a few other hexes, curse, and her trademark, to puzzle the witch on how it got there.

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

"I'm sure there are many things you would enjoy about me." Georgette hid behind her secrets. She hid behind the life she came from, behind the wands she made, the way she lived, the things she cared about -- she didn't let anyone in. No one knew her. No one knew her innermost thoughts or desires. Hell, half the time Georgette didn't know them herself until the time arose and she found herself in a particular situation. Many beings were complicated but Georgette was certainly one of a kind. Rabastan Lestrange was known by everyone whereas Georgette Ollivander was known by no one. Quite the pair to be sitting at a bar together.

"You should learn lessons. Just because someone isn't known in the wizarding community doesn't mean they shouldn't be watched after." Of course Georgette didn't mean she would actually harm anyone to a point of intense pain but she had the smarts to match many out there and knowledge could be a very frightening thing.

Georgette listened and actually agreed with Rabastan. It was the majority that never mastered using the best magical resource they would ever own. "A wand should be an extension of one's self. That means knowing how to properly use it. It's a fucking shame," she shook her head. "At least I'm not one of those people."

But her talents and her future -- Georgette hadn't given it much thought. She always saw herself in the store, taking over once Garrick had finally died. Perhaps after he died she could finally sell her wands since he was against her making wands in the first place. That wouldn't be the worst but what if there was more? And out of everyone, why was Rabastan raising these questions inside her?

"I -- I have my ways," Georgette responded thinking about one day being able to sell her wands and creating even more.

The dry sound of her laugh and the subtle curve on her lips told Rabastan everything he needed to know. Nasty little thoughts did indeed toy within her mind. "A pity, indeed." Dark mirth backed his agreement, barely contained as he watched her sip her drink. "I'd have enjoyed hearing about it."

It was curious how little he knew about this witch. They had spent shared years at Hogwarts, yet she had never been worth his attention. So he had not troubled to waste time considering her existence at all. How times had changed.

"Believe it or not, Ollivander, I do learn lessons when they're presented to me. I would not dream of underestimating you." This time, he did laugh, wryly and incredulously. Her arrogance surely equated his own, such were her bold claims to excellence. But it did seem she was entitled to make them. Placing his wand onto the bar, he turned it indolently against the wood and considered it. It had been in a god-awful state. Now, it was pristine; better than new. "How do you intend to use your talent? Surely you cannot spend the rest of your days in that shop, selling wands to witches and wizards who will barely use them to their full potential. It is almost a crime, how barely people master their magic. Their weapons deserve more. The craft deserves more."

It was lamentable. He meant his words sincerely, his devotion to magical excellence bordering on consuming reverence. It was an almost religious attention. Georgette, with her skill for channelling their art, should put her skills to better use.

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

Instead of out front in the store, Georgette had decided to spend time in the back working on her own wands. The wands no one knew about. She could hear the jingle of the door of anyone came in yet she hoped against hope that no one did. She was in her element in the back of the store creating. She didn’t even know how many she had made at that point. She’d been making them since she was sixteen — without Garrick’s knowledge. The only wand he knew about was Georgette’s personal wand she’d made for herself. Her uncle was rather scared at how good her skills were — something she clung to.

She loved the ways wands worked. How they found the right witch or wizard. And, most importantly, how they were pieced together to create something powerful. No wand was the same just as no person was the same. Finding the right wand was like a dance between two partners. It was beautiful. And if Georgette was sentimental about anything it was that.

That stupid jingle finally happened. She dusted her hands off on her jeans as she stepped behind the desk into the store proper only to be greeted by an insulting question. “Ollivander is standing right in front of you,” she said with a deadpan expression.

who: @xgeorgetteollivanderx when: Late morning where: Olivanders Wand Shop

Regulus was desperate. He was very quickly running out of options for his father, ones that his father would find acceptable anyway. He knew deep down, that he was going to have to put his foot down, he was going to have to get a healer to see his father, and it wasn't going to go over well. Regulus only hope to lessen that argument was to truly exhaust all options. Thats what leads him to Olivanders. He never paid much attention to wand lore or what each wand meant, he did however, know that his wasn't meant for healing spells. The Blacks had a long string of wands meant for battles, leading, healing was too...Less than to be acceptable and fit properly into their family. Regulus was desperate though, and if that meant being seen as less than for something as major as saving his father? Well he was going to do it. It was family and nothing was more important than family. He steps into Olivanders in the late morning and he isn't the slightest bit patient when he walks up to the front counter, he also isn't very polite to the girl behind it. "Please tell me Olivanders here today." Its not that he likes the guy, if Regulus was honest, he had scared him when he was a child coming for his first wand. But Regulus could at least trust that he knew his stuff.

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

Georgette hated how crowded the streets seemed to always be anymore. She was coming to the realization that she did need to leave the shop a little more than usual but had been constantly disappointed. She was shoving through people, just wanting to take a damn walk. Georgette shoulder checked as many people as she could, attempting to get the point across. She wasn't one to take anything lying down. If she were to be completely honest, yes she hated the crowd, but she did enjoy getting aggression out.

There was a bit of a lull in the crowd. A bit. And she saw an olive skinned, dark haired witch clutching a plant for dear life. It seemed odd. Then again, many people seemed odd. That was the wizarding world in a nutshell. When she got closer, this witch started talking. Dammit. I have to engage in conversation.

"Ilene? Please tell me you didn't name the plant."

── *✰ ۫ OPEN STARTER !

The bustling streets of Hogsmeade were a rather unwelcome change from the four walls of her bedroom and the stream that ran behind her family’s house, yet the excitement of her new purchase had left Pandora on a high. Clutched in her arms was a potted Snarfalump plant — one that she had been wanting for some time, but had been putting off for this very reason. Several times, as she wove in between passersby, their shoves had her dangerously close to dropping it. Luckily, they both seemed to have made it past the rush unharmed. “You’d think Madame Bletchley was here, the way there are so many people gathered around. Ilene may not have made it,” she remarked as she saw someone else who had pushed past the crowd.