(no subject)
Date/Time: July, 1999
Location: Ollivander's Wand Shop, Diagon Alley
Open To: Elizabeth
Currently Involving: Richard
Richard wobbled on the ladder, pulling out the top rows of wands and dusting them off with a wrinkled nose. "Oi!" he called back over his shoulder at the rather ancient man standing at the counter. "You run around here, picking wands at random--"
"They are not at random," Old man Ollivander interrupted pointedly, glaring up over the top of his glasses.
"Right. So you go picking up all these wands that er, call to.. you.. but these up here?" he added, pulling one out to show for example. "Yeah, they're never touched."
He looked down, then blew sharply on the box and watched as a clump of dust twittered down to the old man's head. He reached up, angrily brushing it off his graying hair and giving the young man a rather contemptuous glare. "Those do not call to me," he replied in an almost indignant grumble before turning back to count the morning's till.
Richard sighed, wishing that it was a Thursday. Thursdays were the days that he spent his full hours at the Ministry, working toward what he'd hope would be his ultimate career. It was far more exciting than dusting shelves for a grumpy old wandmaker. Furthermore, there was to be a new parttime worker coming in, and he'd been informed that he'd do the training.
Better for the new coworker, obviously, but not better for Richard! He didn't want to train anybody.
Location: Ollivander's Wand Shop, Diagon Alley
Open To: Elizabeth
Currently Involving: Richard
Richard wobbled on the ladder, pulling out the top rows of wands and dusting them off with a wrinkled nose. "Oi!" he called back over his shoulder at the rather ancient man standing at the counter. "You run around here, picking wands at random--"
"They are not at random," Old man Ollivander interrupted pointedly, glaring up over the top of his glasses.
"Right. So you go picking up all these wands that er, call to.. you.. but these up here?" he added, pulling one out to show for example. "Yeah, they're never touched."
He looked down, then blew sharply on the box and watched as a clump of dust twittered down to the old man's head. He reached up, angrily brushing it off his graying hair and giving the young man a rather contemptuous glare. "Those do not call to me," he replied in an almost indignant grumble before turning back to count the morning's till.
Richard sighed, wishing that it was a Thursday. Thursdays were the days that he spent his full hours at the Ministry, working toward what he'd hope would be his ultimate career. It was far more exciting than dusting shelves for a grumpy old wandmaker. Furthermore, there was to be a new parttime worker coming in, and he'd been informed that he'd do the training.
Better for the new coworker, obviously, but not better for Richard! He didn't want to train anybody.