Disclaimer: It's all JK's.
Author's Notes: This thing is one giant HBP Spoiler so, if you've not read it yet, proceed no further. Okay, still with me? This actually is not an HG/SS, but I've put it under said category because FFN does not have a OC selection. I've replaced our dear Hermione with one Tacita Ollivander, who, fear not, isn't at all a Sue. The reason I'm using her instead lies with the fact that I wanted to write a story about the missing Mr. Ollivander, and, let's face it, HG/SS isn't exactly a probable match at the moment now is it?
This piece begins a few day before Ollivander turns up missing and proceeds from there. Hope you enjoy and review!
The night was cool and unaffectionate as Tacita Ollivander gazed up at the moon and made her way through the calming blue highlights and shadows of Diagon Alley towards Flourish and Blotts. Somehow late-night literary excursions had become a habit of hers during the summer vacations when she'd come down from her teaching post at Durmstrang and take a room in the Leaky Cauldron. Mostly she spent time in the Alley so she'd be able to visit with her father and help out at the shop, but she also enjoyed the atmosphere and coziness the small neighbourhood afforded it's inhabitants and visitors. There was usually never an excess or scarcity of people on its streets; rather one was always surrounded by just enough other beings to feel comfortable. It was much like living a perfectly sized café, which was entirely suited to Tacita's tastes. It was quite easy for her to lose herself in the twists and turns of Diagon Alley, yet never she never found herself completely lost, and, if she was ever really thirsting for adventure, she could always play amongst the vagrants and dark secrets of the adjacent Knockturn Alley for an evening. p Of course this was hardly advisable now, given the current state things, what with ten criminals escaped from Azkaban, and a fair few other Death Eaters roaming free. Indeed she questioned her sanity for even running about Diagon Alley alone after dark, but she was a capable witch, and one hardly worth maiming or attacking. Besides, there hadn't been any reports of purebloods being attacked, and the Ollivanders somehow found themselves with the happy advantage of being a very pure family.
Moreover, she felt instinctively that tonight was to be a quiet evening, as had been her day. She had spent the greater part of the daylight hours sitting up in her room, taking tea after tea and reading. Somehow she'd managed to finish off the three books she picked up last Friday night at the small bookstore over the course of her week, and now found herself in want of others. She was always stunned at the way she practically inhaled a book. In the two weeks she'd spent away from work she'd managed to go through two muggle poetry anthologies, a copy of Sheldon Shinley's Spectacular Spells, Advanced Addition, and four, rather long, novels. Of course, as business was usually slow at wand shops, she did spend a good portion of her working days engaging herself with literature when she was not straightening or tidying. However, her love of the written word was burning quite a prominent hole in her wallet, thus she resigned herself to peruse Flourish and Blott's used books tonight in addition to her usual favourite sections.
A familiar ding sounded as she stepped into the lighted floor room of the dusty lopsided building. With a casual glance she noted that the shop was practically empty save for a handful of cloistered-academic types who were browsing the shelves at leisure, and, as such, she smiled to herself and proceeded to pick up a shopping basket.
"Hello dear. Back again so soon?" waved a friendly old man from behind a stained old wooden counter.
"Quite, Mr. Flourish. I seem to have made my way through my last purchases already... I suppose I should, perhaps, lay off the reading a bit?" she grinned.
"Oh, nonsense, nonsense girl! Nothing like a good book to expand the mind's horizons! You take after your father, you do."
"This is true. Dad always was something of a bookworm, but, I've got to say, I'm beginning to think I've read everything worth reading! I can hardly think of a thing that might interest me anymore. I guess I'll simply have to work my way through the shelves."
"A most excellent plan m'dear. If you need any assistance, just ask. I daresay I have a decent mental catalogue."
"Yes, I'll be sure to Mr. Flourish. Thank you sir." And with that she set about her evening's business.
It wasn't until she'd made her way through the Potions, Astronomy, and Muggle Studies sections that she found anything that was even slightly to her liking. She supposed it might be nice to own a copy of The Revised Appendix of Magical Artifacts for reference's sake, and Palmistry for Beginners might be amusing, if only learned for its value as a party trick. She was slightly more enthused when she picked up The History of Helga Hufflepuff, and was rather pleased upon finding a copies of Iphigenia's Betrayal, Sir Randall Cupid's Lover, and The Truth Behind Narnia. By the time she'd reached the Charms section she was developing a bit of a crick in her arm, and travelling though the Muggle Literature, Transfiguration, and Herbology sections did nothing to aid the problem. Indeed, when, several hours after her arrival, she finally made her way to the used books section, she scarcely had room in her basket to fit anything more, but she crouched down in spite of herself.
The selection on these shelves was undoubtably dustier and more sullied than the pristine works that filled the rest of the shop, but this did not mean that the content was not just as good. Additionally, these bindings were quite a bit cheaper than the others in the store. Almost immediately she found a copy of The History of Helga Hufflepuff for a quarter of what she had been prepared to pay, and, with a little searching, also came upon a well-loved copy of Heart of Darkness for little more than a knut. 'Excellent,' she thought, as she continued to gather book after book, almost at random. She was sure she'd added at least another pound to he basket before deciding that she'd do well to restrain herself if she wished to afford such luxuries as food and shelter this week.
"Well, I daresay it seems you found a few pieces worthy of your attention then, eh Miss Ollivander?" spoke the Augean bookkeeper as he rang up her bill.
"Yes. I'm not quite sure how that happened," she shook her head confused. "Oh well, these should keep me busy for a bit longer than the last lot."
"Yes, yes I should hope they will," he returned, quickly bagging her selected purchases before taking out his wand and casting a lightening spell on the bags. "That will be -- twenty-one galleons"
Knowing that she had spent a good deal more that twenty-one galleons, she smiled gratefully, and handed over the required coins. "Thank you sir, you're very kind to me."
"Ah, well I'd venture to say that I owe a rather large bit of my gross income to you and your reading habits anyways."
With this she laughed, and moved herself to the door. "Perhaps this is correct. Goodnight Mr Flourish, I'll see you again in a couple weeks!"
"I'm sure you will. Goodnight dear! Tell you father I said 'hello'!" And with that she nodded and disappeared back onto the High Street, having no idea of the wondrous ancient book contained in her bag.
Mr. Flourish - okay, so he doesn't exist in the books, but wasn't he sweeter than the grumpy old ninnywho really works there?