Shy little Eloise Moreau found herself the proud owner of Ollivanders after his death in the war. Now she's left to cope with the loss of her mentor while attempting to run a business.
When Charlie Weasley drops by one day in hopes of buying a new w...
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Eloise was filing away her latest creations in the back of her shop when she heard the tap-tap-tap of an owl at the front door. She quickly jumped down from the ladder and hurried to unlock the door and accept the owl's letter and small parcel, repaying him with one of the owl treats she kept in her pockets during business hours for situations like this.
She opened the door for the owl to depart, heading back to the counter and hopping up while she unfurled the letter, placing the tiny parcel aside for now.
Eloise-
Hoping you're well. I'm sure you're aware, as Charlie must've mentioned, but one of our rescues was attacked late last week, and despite our best efforts, did not survive.
I've shrunken down the package, since as you know, the heartstring can be quite large depending on the dragon. He was a pretty big guy, one of the Welsh Greens that Charlie rescued. I'll leave you to treat it, I don't know a whole lot about the process.
If you need anything else, or any other information, please let me know. If you see Charlie, please let him know I'm eagerly awaiting his response. See if you can put a bit of pressure on him from the London angle, eh?
Paul Wyznewski
Romanian Dragon Sanctuary
Eloise frowned at the parchment in her hand. Surely Charlie would've reached out if he was distraught about this? She thought back on when he had disappeared for that period of time, and how he had been handling his grief. He wouldn't have.
She started pacing, abandoning the letter on the surface of the front counter.
It wasn't her responsibility to bother Charlie about the job for Paul, and she certainly didn't feel obligated. However, finding out that he hadn't yet accepted or declined the offer was slightly comforting. She hadn't heard anything from him in weeks, and she was starting to wonder if she'd ever hear from him again. What if he'd left already, without telling her? Or saying goodbye?
That's it. Today was the day.
She quickly ran the parcel and the letter up to her Ollivander's study, locking the parcel away for safekeeping, and leaving the letter on her desk to file away in her records at a later date. She ran back downstairs, grabbing her cloak to throw on over the casual robes she'd spilled tea on earlier. As an afterthought, she used her wand to magic away the stain.
Diagon Alley was bustling with people on that windy Tuesday, and she crossed her fingers in hopes that her journey out into the crowded street wouldn't be for nothing, and that Charlie would, in fact, be at the joke shop that day. She knew she was chancing running into one of his brothers, but at this point, she was willing to take the risk.
When she reached the shockingly orange and purple shop, she found that her sudden burst of confidence evaporated on the spot. She planted her feet at the base of the steps leading inside, looking over her shoulder and wondering if there wouldn't be a better day to do this.
