Photo Day, the Hopping and Aperture way!
Date: Wednesday, May 3, 2000
Time: Early afternoon
Place: Hopping and Aperture's, Ottery St. Catchpole
Characters Involved: Luna Lovegood and open to EVERYBODY! Come one and all!
Rating: We'll say PG to PG-13
Complete or Incomplete: Complete
Ottery St. Catchpole was so close to the Otter River that most of the area carried a refreshing fragrance if you were used to riverside living, or a questionable odor if you weren't. And right on the edge of it, through a network of cobble streets and narrow alleyways, was Hopping and Aperture's photo shop. Those who visited today would find that the narrow building, snug within a long wall of similar buildings at the end of town, was indeed located at One Hidden Country Lane. In fact, the dirt road that lead around Stoatshead Hill, through a thick wood of trees and brush, and up to the very end of Ottery St. Catchpole was the only country lane in sight.
For anyone who bothered to investigate, it would appear that Hopping and Aperture's was turned around the wrong way. The side that faced inward to the Muggle town had nothing but an old wooden door in its brick wall, and should they manage to force that door open, they would be confronted with more brick. It was as if someone placed a door there as a prank; simply for humour's sake.
Those who left the town and circled round the back, however, would find the true face of the shop. A wooden sign on a wrought-iron hanging by the door declared the place "Hopping and Aperture's Expert Portraiture." On either side of the door, two huge windows displayed enlarged fliers much like the ones distributed through Britain. Outside a small queue was forming of wizards and witches ready to have their photos taken.
Inside, the shop had a very clean look to it, despite the clutter. Everything about it looked busy. Framed photographs covered the walls, up to the ceiling. Some black and white; some color; others various monotones; all moving. There was a very large portrait of a past Minister of Magic sitting in a chair, looking down at the activity in the shop with quiet indignation. Another was of a boy--a tree-bordered country lane behind him--who was staring out in unabashed curiosity. His mother was silently alternating between reprimanding him for ruining their portrait and trying to get him to smile.
More framed photographs were on shelves, along with various cameras, accessories and more obscure gadgets that looked both complex and fragile. The narrow wooden floor led to a huge tapestry on the back wall, in which there was a beautiful image of the the eastern coast off Devon. Standing in front of it were a wizard and witch and their two children, all beaming as a man bent under a black cloth, one hand on the camera before him and another signaling the family to move closer.
There was another flash from the right, where there was a shallow relief in the rectangular shape of the building. Here, Mr. Hopping's young assistant, Barry, was taking shots of a very well-dressed--and very old--wizard and witch. The backdrop here was less interesting, simple solid tones for more formal portraits. The current selection shimmered a soft cream colour.
"That'll do it then, Mr. and Mrs. Nettlefield, eh? Luna, who's next?"
"This kind gentleman with the receding hairline," Luna replied pleasantly, leading said gentleman--who didn't look at all appreciative of Luna's mention of his hairline--up to Barry's station. Luna promptly left them without another word to take a quick survey of the room. There was still a young couple browsing a selection of decorative frames on the wall and a harassed-looking woman trying to collect her brood of raucous children, but other than that the shop had emptied. Ever since they opened there had been a steady stream of people placing orders and posing for photographs, and among those, individuals looking to purchase frames or have portraits touched up. With Barry and Mr. Hopping manning the cameras and Mr. Hopping's granddaughter, Frances, taking orders, Luna was left to maintain the flow of traffic.
It looked like Mr. Hopping was finishing up and would be ready for the next customer soon. Luna drifted through the open door and out into the fresh air. "You may go in now," she said brightly to the next group in line, but as they entered she remained out in the grass. The rest could manage on their own for a few minutes while she took a moment to breathe.
Time: Early afternoon
Place: Hopping and Aperture's, Ottery St. Catchpole
Characters Involved: Luna Lovegood and open to EVERYBODY! Come one and all!
Rating: We'll say PG to PG-13
Complete or Incomplete: Complete
Ottery St. Catchpole was so close to the Otter River that most of the area carried a refreshing fragrance if you were used to riverside living, or a questionable odor if you weren't. And right on the edge of it, through a network of cobble streets and narrow alleyways, was Hopping and Aperture's photo shop. Those who visited today would find that the narrow building, snug within a long wall of similar buildings at the end of town, was indeed located at One Hidden Country Lane. In fact, the dirt road that lead around Stoatshead Hill, through a thick wood of trees and brush, and up to the very end of Ottery St. Catchpole was the only country lane in sight.
For anyone who bothered to investigate, it would appear that Hopping and Aperture's was turned around the wrong way. The side that faced inward to the Muggle town had nothing but an old wooden door in its brick wall, and should they manage to force that door open, they would be confronted with more brick. It was as if someone placed a door there as a prank; simply for humour's sake.
Those who left the town and circled round the back, however, would find the true face of the shop. A wooden sign on a wrought-iron hanging by the door declared the place "Hopping and Aperture's Expert Portraiture." On either side of the door, two huge windows displayed enlarged fliers much like the ones distributed through Britain. Outside a small queue was forming of wizards and witches ready to have their photos taken.
Inside, the shop had a very clean look to it, despite the clutter. Everything about it looked busy. Framed photographs covered the walls, up to the ceiling. Some black and white; some color; others various monotones; all moving. There was a very large portrait of a past Minister of Magic sitting in a chair, looking down at the activity in the shop with quiet indignation. Another was of a boy--a tree-bordered country lane behind him--who was staring out in unabashed curiosity. His mother was silently alternating between reprimanding him for ruining their portrait and trying to get him to smile.
More framed photographs were on shelves, along with various cameras, accessories and more obscure gadgets that looked both complex and fragile. The narrow wooden floor led to a huge tapestry on the back wall, in which there was a beautiful image of the the eastern coast off Devon. Standing in front of it were a wizard and witch and their two children, all beaming as a man bent under a black cloth, one hand on the camera before him and another signaling the family to move closer.
There was another flash from the right, where there was a shallow relief in the rectangular shape of the building. Here, Mr. Hopping's young assistant, Barry, was taking shots of a very well-dressed--and very old--wizard and witch. The backdrop here was less interesting, simple solid tones for more formal portraits. The current selection shimmered a soft cream colour.
"That'll do it then, Mr. and Mrs. Nettlefield, eh? Luna, who's next?"
"This kind gentleman with the receding hairline," Luna replied pleasantly, leading said gentleman--who didn't look at all appreciative of Luna's mention of his hairline--up to Barry's station. Luna promptly left them without another word to take a quick survey of the room. There was still a young couple browsing a selection of decorative frames on the wall and a harassed-looking woman trying to collect her brood of raucous children, but other than that the shop had emptied. Ever since they opened there had been a steady stream of people placing orders and posing for photographs, and among those, individuals looking to purchase frames or have portraits touched up. With Barry and Mr. Hopping manning the cameras and Mr. Hopping's granddaughter, Frances, taking orders, Luna was left to maintain the flow of traffic.
It looked like Mr. Hopping was finishing up and would be ready for the next customer soon. Luna drifted through the open door and out into the fresh air. "You may go in now," she said brightly to the next group in line, but as they entered she remained out in the grass. The rest could manage on their own for a few minutes while she took a moment to breathe.