Post by Deleted on Jul 18, 2015 8:44:19 GMT -6
((OOC: I wrote this mostly as a way to get into Constance's head a bit more, figure out what she likes and how she feels about Divination. I'm still figuring her out.))
The door of the shop chimed softly when Constance pushed it open. Inside, the shop was a bit dusty and dim, lit mostly with candles. A delicious, spicy scent hung in the air. The shelves were filled with colorful crystal balls, packets of tea leaves, beautifully painted tea cups, and crystals. One wall held bookshelves, mostly filled with thick books in colorful leather covers. A short woman with dark brown skin and a wide-brimmed witch's hat over her wild gray hair stood behind the counter. She smiled at Constance as she walked in.
“Good morning, my dear,” the woman said in a rich voice. “Taking divination at school this term?”
“Yes, ma'am,” Constance said.
“Aurora?”
“Yes, ma'am.” Constance picked her way through the colorful displays to the counter and pulled out her supply list. “I need some things for class, but I don't understand exactly why they're on the list,” she said.
The witch behind the counter took the list. She put on a large pair of purple glasses and read the list, then handed it back to Constance. “Looks like you're doing tarot readings this term,” she said. “The journal, the cloth, the candle—they're all for tarot.”
“What's tarot?” Constance asked. She'd heard the term before but didn't really know what it meant.
“The reading of the future through cards,” the witch said. She gestured to a table near the counter that held what looked like decks of playing cards. “You won't need one of those, since that list said your teacher will lend you one, but if you ever need one, you come back here and pick one out. Everything you need is near the back, by the books. I'd pick a journal first, if I were you.” She smiled at Constance, showing several gold teeth.
Constance made her way to the back of the shop. One of the bookshelves held journals and diaries. She looked them over carefully, taking some out to see the covers. None of them seemed right until she came to one on the bottom shelf. It had a pale pink spine with a small butterfly embossed on it. Constance pulled it out. The front cover had swirls of darker pink with more embossed butterflies. There were no words on the cover. She opened it and found it had smooth creamy white parchment pages. It was beautiful. Constance could see herself using it, and she didn't spend much time writing in journals.
She looked for a cloth next, on a rack of colorful silks and satins. She didn't know what kind of cloth Professor Skye (another one? She'd had to read the letter twice before realizing that the woman had a different first name than her head of house, Professor Esmerelda Skye) wanted her to have. In the end she chose a piece of silk that was the same pale pink as her new journal. Constance loved pink and the smoothness of the silk felt cool in her hands.
The last thing to find was a candle. There was an enormous display of them. Handwritten labels described some of them as beeswax and others as tallow, some as scented and others as containing helpful herbs or spices for specific divination tasks. Constance looked at all the labels, hoping one of them would say, “Good for tarot” or something, but none of them did. She finally found a short, thick candle that smelled faintly of peaches. It was a pale creamy gold and the label, when she checked it, said that it was made of beeswax.
Constance made her way to the counter with her selections. The old witch smiled at her. “That'll be one Galleon, two Sickles, dear,” she said. “I think you've made very good choices. You'll enjoy tarot.”
“I hope so,” Constance said. She hadn't been too fond of Divination last year. It had mostly been about reading tea leaves and Constance hadn't been good at seeing shapes in the mess at the bottom of her cup. Maybe she would like tarot better, though. She handed over the money. The witch folded her new journal in her new cloth. She wrapped the candle in tissue paper, then put all three items in a bag.
“Be careful around your new teacher,” she said, handing the bag to Constance.
“Why?”
The old woman just smiled. “You'll find out,” she said. “Goodbye, Constance Revell. Have a good term. I hope to see you in here again some time.”
Constance left the shop, wondering how the witch had known her name when she hadn't told her.
The door of the shop chimed softly when Constance pushed it open. Inside, the shop was a bit dusty and dim, lit mostly with candles. A delicious, spicy scent hung in the air. The shelves were filled with colorful crystal balls, packets of tea leaves, beautifully painted tea cups, and crystals. One wall held bookshelves, mostly filled with thick books in colorful leather covers. A short woman with dark brown skin and a wide-brimmed witch's hat over her wild gray hair stood behind the counter. She smiled at Constance as she walked in.
“Good morning, my dear,” the woman said in a rich voice. “Taking divination at school this term?”
“Yes, ma'am,” Constance said.
“Aurora?”
“Yes, ma'am.” Constance picked her way through the colorful displays to the counter and pulled out her supply list. “I need some things for class, but I don't understand exactly why they're on the list,” she said.
The witch behind the counter took the list. She put on a large pair of purple glasses and read the list, then handed it back to Constance. “Looks like you're doing tarot readings this term,” she said. “The journal, the cloth, the candle—they're all for tarot.”
“What's tarot?” Constance asked. She'd heard the term before but didn't really know what it meant.
“The reading of the future through cards,” the witch said. She gestured to a table near the counter that held what looked like decks of playing cards. “You won't need one of those, since that list said your teacher will lend you one, but if you ever need one, you come back here and pick one out. Everything you need is near the back, by the books. I'd pick a journal first, if I were you.” She smiled at Constance, showing several gold teeth.
Constance made her way to the back of the shop. One of the bookshelves held journals and diaries. She looked them over carefully, taking some out to see the covers. None of them seemed right until she came to one on the bottom shelf. It had a pale pink spine with a small butterfly embossed on it. Constance pulled it out. The front cover had swirls of darker pink with more embossed butterflies. There were no words on the cover. She opened it and found it had smooth creamy white parchment pages. It was beautiful. Constance could see herself using it, and she didn't spend much time writing in journals.
She looked for a cloth next, on a rack of colorful silks and satins. She didn't know what kind of cloth Professor Skye (another one? She'd had to read the letter twice before realizing that the woman had a different first name than her head of house, Professor Esmerelda Skye) wanted her to have. In the end she chose a piece of silk that was the same pale pink as her new journal. Constance loved pink and the smoothness of the silk felt cool in her hands.
The last thing to find was a candle. There was an enormous display of them. Handwritten labels described some of them as beeswax and others as tallow, some as scented and others as containing helpful herbs or spices for specific divination tasks. Constance looked at all the labels, hoping one of them would say, “Good for tarot” or something, but none of them did. She finally found a short, thick candle that smelled faintly of peaches. It was a pale creamy gold and the label, when she checked it, said that it was made of beeswax.
Constance made her way to the counter with her selections. The old witch smiled at her. “That'll be one Galleon, two Sickles, dear,” she said. “I think you've made very good choices. You'll enjoy tarot.”
“I hope so,” Constance said. She hadn't been too fond of Divination last year. It had mostly been about reading tea leaves and Constance hadn't been good at seeing shapes in the mess at the bottom of her cup. Maybe she would like tarot better, though. She handed over the money. The witch folded her new journal in her new cloth. She wrapped the candle in tissue paper, then put all three items in a bag.
“Be careful around your new teacher,” she said, handing the bag to Constance.
“Why?”
The old woman just smiled. “You'll find out,” she said. “Goodbye, Constance Revell. Have a good term. I hope to see you in here again some time.”
Constance left the shop, wondering how the witch had known her name when she hadn't told her.
