(no subject)

[theo_nott]

Who: Theodore and Graham
What: GUY STUFF. Probably drinks.
Where: Notts, then possibly a bar or the flat for coffee or beer.
When: Closing time (great song), 19th
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Status: Complete

Theo gave a relieved sigh when he saw the last family leave his shop, and he turned to look at the shelves upon shelves of wands. It wasn't too messy tonight... and he was closing in ten minutes. Could he actually hope to close on time? Not if any snotty little children came in... but it seemed to be dying, even out in the Alley. He gingerly put boxes back, smiling softly at his own work. He had originally opened his wand shop to see if he could... and to get away from his disgusting excuse of a father. But he had found a passion in wand carving... it was therapeutic, and he decided, even after he had somehow killed his father, the way he took the life of Theo's mother, he would keep his little shop on Diagon Alley. The people were wretched, but the wands themselves... they made it worth it.

He started to close down his register, collecting the receipts and putting them in a folder under the counter, before he flicked his own wand, setting up the usual spells to make sure that no one but him would open it, or the money drawer hidden at his feet.

Comments

[graham_montague]

The moist humidity was enough to make most evening shoppers to tuck in early, but not Graham Montague. He had business to attend to. His hands were deep in the pockets of his black trousers as he strode toward his destination. The fog was so thick he could barely see more than four meters in front of him, barely making out the shadowy figures of straggling customers across the cobblestone street.

He stopped in his tracks as he passed the front window of Quality Quidditch, admiring the latest and greatest model in the window. "The Swiftfoot Three-thousand," he murmured to himself, squinting as he moved closer to the glass, hardly able to make out the broom's detail through the foggy windowpane. Overrated he thought to himself as he continued along the sidewalk. As a professional Quidditch player, he was confident that his team's management would surely order the best brooms fit for each player, regardless of price.

Finally, toward the end of the Alley, he spotted Nott's. The wand shop must be visited at night for special orders, he knew, as by day it was flooded by children and clumsy wizards and witches who tripped and snapped their wands in half.

He checked behind his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed as he pushed open the door and entered, allowing the door to close behind him before he walked toward his old friend at the counter. "Business is booming, I hear." He rocked back on his heels and looked around the shop, at the hundreds or thousands of wand boxes piled as high as he could see. He hadn't been inside a wand shop since his first trip to Ollivander's when he was ten.

[graham_montague]

Head explode... Clever, Nott. Kicking his right heel on top of his left knee and relaxing back into his chair once more, Graham sipped at his drink more slowly now, shifting a bit. "Didn't know you were so voyeuristic," he replied, looking over at Theo with curious expression. "Get off on watching others? You never struck me as the type. Though you do seem to be quite the V.I.P. here."

At Theo's mention of the blonde, Graham looked over at her once more and shrugged. "Wasn't really my taste, not until very recently. Had quite an evening with a girl like that last night and I'm working out how to entice a part deux, if you know what I mean."