Challenge #93: The New Wand Challenge
Title: Most People
Time: 20 min.
Rating: PG
Pairings (if any):N/A
Summary:
Most students walk into a wand shop, are harassed by the wand-seller in question, wave bits of wood around, find one that they like (or like them, depending on the point of view you take), and walk out again.
The harassment is not returned.
Author's Notes: First time posting here--very nice com! I'm more or less a newbie when it comes to fanfiction/writing in general, so please bear with me. ^^ Thanks!
"Beech! Are you serious?"
"As serious as you are, young man!"
"Oh, hah! Very funny. Don't be daft--it's either ebony or mahogany for me."
"Mahogany? You're entirely the wrong person for mahogany!"
"And why would that be, pray tell?"
"Because wizards and witches whose wands are of mahogany are generally smart!"
Remus, giving up on the current situation, wands, and life in general, buries his face in his hands. The argument, unfortunately for him, is like time: waiting for no man, it wages on without him. However, the teenage werewolf was used to blocking out arguments; having friends of a belligerent kind and a strong need to read at all times possible has equipped him with ears that can shut out most noise a human can make at a moment's notice.
It was supposed to be a quiet day, he thinks. Bright sky, cheery sun, chirping birds... He was supposed to be curled up in a hammock somewhere, or under a tree, reading The Iliad for the fifth time.
Instead, he was in Ollivander's Wands, curled up in defensive position, seriously considering making for the exit before the whole shop was blown to bits around him.
Most students, the Gryffindor idly ponders, walk into a wand shop, are harassed by the wand-seller in question, wave bits of wood around, find one that they like (or like them, depending on the point of view you take), and walk out again.
The harassment is not returned.
Most people only have to go through this ritual once, not so many times that the wand-seller has a list of wands broken, leaves time open for the person in question to drop in, and calls him anything from an arsenal of insults, most along the lines of "wand mutilator."
Most people, Remus speculates, take a shopkeeper's word for granted.
The two do not have to reach a compromise.
"I'm going to tell you this one more time, you savage, or I'm going to kick you out of the shop! Unicorn hair is out of the question!"
A whine.
"But I like unicorn hair!"
"Unicorn hair, young man, does not like you!"
"Fine! Dragon's heartstring! On ebony! 9 1/2 inches!"
"Fine!"
Most people, Remus thinks, standing up at the sound of galleons being exchanged, and the feeling of glares being traded in the same fashion, are not Sirius Black.
Time: 20 min.
Rating: PG
Pairings (if any):N/A
Summary:
Most students walk into a wand shop, are harassed by the wand-seller in question, wave bits of wood around, find one that they like (or like them, depending on the point of view you take), and walk out again.
The harassment is not returned.
Author's Notes: First time posting here--very nice com! I'm more or less a newbie when it comes to fanfiction/writing in general, so please bear with me. ^^ Thanks!
"Beech! Are you serious?"
"As serious as you are, young man!"
"Oh, hah! Very funny. Don't be daft--it's either ebony or mahogany for me."
"Mahogany? You're entirely the wrong person for mahogany!"
"And why would that be, pray tell?"
"Because wizards and witches whose wands are of mahogany are generally smart!"
Remus, giving up on the current situation, wands, and life in general, buries his face in his hands. The argument, unfortunately for him, is like time: waiting for no man, it wages on without him. However, the teenage werewolf was used to blocking out arguments; having friends of a belligerent kind and a strong need to read at all times possible has equipped him with ears that can shut out most noise a human can make at a moment's notice.
It was supposed to be a quiet day, he thinks. Bright sky, cheery sun, chirping birds... He was supposed to be curled up in a hammock somewhere, or under a tree, reading The Iliad for the fifth time.
Instead, he was in Ollivander's Wands, curled up in defensive position, seriously considering making for the exit before the whole shop was blown to bits around him.
Most students, the Gryffindor idly ponders, walk into a wand shop, are harassed by the wand-seller in question, wave bits of wood around, find one that they like (or like them, depending on the point of view you take), and walk out again.
The harassment is not returned.
Most people only have to go through this ritual once, not so many times that the wand-seller has a list of wands broken, leaves time open for the person in question to drop in, and calls him anything from an arsenal of insults, most along the lines of "wand mutilator."
Most people, Remus speculates, take a shopkeeper's word for granted.
The two do not have to reach a compromise.
"I'm going to tell you this one more time, you savage, or I'm going to kick you out of the shop! Unicorn hair is out of the question!"
A whine.
"But I like unicorn hair!"
"Unicorn hair, young man, does not like you!"
"Fine! Dragon's heartstring! On ebony! 9 1/2 inches!"
"Fine!"
Most people, Remus thinks, standing up at the sound of galleons being exchanged, and the feeling of glares being traded in the same fashion, are not Sirius Black.