The shadow hesitated outside the door, the massive hand curled around the handle. I waited patiently behind the counter, watching the bent over figure battle with inner thoughts.

Turning away, the shadow disappeared into the bustling crowd. I sighed.

I glanced down the long corridor to my left at the chaos that lined the towering walls. Walking into the dim-lit corridor, I set my attention on one section and began to work.

Ding. Crunch. Cough. Bang. Huff. Tap. Tap. Tap...

The entrance and impatience of a customer.

I slowly stepped down the ladder I was clinging onto and, with a smile, appeared behind the shop counter.

To my surprise, I recognized the man before me.

"How can I help you, friend?" My smile grew slightly.

The man glared at me, his fingers continuing to tap loudly on the counter surface. His other hand pulled out something wrapped in blood-stained cloth and placed it on the dull wood.

"He will be back for this," the man growled. "You better look after it."

Then the man left.

I frowned. The last time I had seen him he had been a friendly third year, embarrassed after snapping his first wand in two.

I took the carefully wrapped object and pulled the cloth away. I immediately covered it again and hid it in one of the cervices under the counter.

-#-

Ding. I looked up. A young girl and her father had entered the shop.

"Ollivander!" the man grinned.

"Ah, what do we have here?"

"Sophia is looking for her first wand," the father declared, proudly.

"Of course," I replied, myself disappearing into the silent crowd of awaiting boxes. "Let's see..."

Reaching for a pale-coloured box, I heard the shop door swing open, the bell ringing.

"OLLIVANDER!" a voice roared.

I returned to the counter, box in hand.

"You will have to wait your tu-"

"I'm not here for a wand," a voice snarled from the depths of the cape. "Now where is it?"

I looked at the caped figure, ready to repeat that he would have to wait. But the looks of fear on the father and daughter's faces stopped me.

I took out the wrapped object and passed it to him. "Carrying around blood-stained weapons isn't too intelligent." I said.

Snatching the parcel, the figure sneered. "Old man, what do you know of intelligence?"

And, as the other men had done, the caped figure left and disappeared into the crowd.

"Death eaters..." the father stared at me, eyes wide.

"Terrible but great people, Mr Young," I turned to them, arm outstretched, box opened before them. "Now, try this one."

A/N

I was looking through my folders when I discovered this short Harry Potter piece I did for school a few years back. The teacher never took it in and I think only 3 people even did the holiday homework, and I remember being disappointed as I quite like this ^

Anyway, when I came across it I decided to put it up here - it's a fanfiction, right?