Marvin Rose's hand groped blindly for his wand. After knocking down a number of trinkets and books, his fingers wrapped around the slender handle; thirteen inches of beech wood with a Thunderbird feather core, the grip carved to resemble a talon. A number of intricate symbols, depicting moments of Marvin's twenty-three years, were etched up the length of the wand. The magical device was simply his most prized possession, and considering Marvin was a man of vast wealth, this was nothing to sneeze at.
"Lumos," Marvin's deep voice muttered, and a bright light appeared at the tip of his wand. It illuminated the impeccably well kept room, bringing the collection of furniture into light: Book burdened shelves, worn leather armchairs, a grand piano, ample fireplace and an impressive wardrobe.
Marvin disentangled himself from the confinement of his blankets and stood, pulling a set of yesterday's robes over his head. He limped to his cane, gripped it by the twisted knob that served as a handle, and gave his leg relief. In his pained gait he managed to exit his bedroom, using his wand to set the coffee pot in motion the moment he crossed the threshold of the sizable kitchen. Marvin murmured an incantation and the paper soared towards him.
"Thank you, Bella," he called up at the long-eared owl, who had settled in her roost with a particularly large shrew. She ruffled her feathers, cocked her head, and turned her back on the wizard.
With a roll of the eyes Marvin poured himself a cup of coffee, settled into his dining room chair, and unwound the thread around the Sorcerer's Select. He pondered the stories, looking for something of interest and found nothing. Emitting a snort Marvin tossed the paper into the middle of the table; there was nothing other than fluff these days. He took a small sip from the chipped mug, patted down his pockets, and retrieved his flask. The wizard poured a healthy portion of spirits into the coffee,and used the tip of his wand to stir it up.
"Good morning Marvin, celebrating happy hour early again I see," the familiar voice of his grandmother, Edna, croaked. She was a small woman, standing no more than five feet, and sporting a grey pointed hat. Her eighty-three years had not been kind on her aesthetics or health, leaving her with a heavily wrinkled face and a number of age spots. Her thin steel grey hair was cut short, and a number of gold bangles spun on her thin, pale wrists. She wore a set of simple black robes, and in her shaking hands was her wand. Elm with a white river monster spine core, and a tartan strip wrapped round the handle. This was the instrument of a pure-blooded, proud, and elegant woman. What she did next with it though, dispatched those credentials: She placed it to her throat, and let loose an inhumanly loud belch.
Marvin laughed, mostly in embarrassment rather than humour. He prided himself on his form, and to be perfectly frank, his eight-three year old grandmother creating magical burps, took a bit away from that image.
"You know what the No-Maj's say, 'It's always five o'clock somewhere.'"
His Grandmother narrowed her stormy blue eyes at him. "Do not quote those people in my presence."
Marvin in return, rolled his eyes at her, "Really Grandma, this is the nineties, perhaps we can have a little more tolerance?"
"Perhaps you can show a little respect for your dear old Grandmother?"
"Ah, you know I love you, Grandma."
She stooped down and kissed him on his stubble lined cheek. "You need to shave," she commented. "How's the leg doing?"
"Hurts like a basilisk bite, but I'll live."
"That's my boy. Now you aught to get to work, Eugene will be waiting for you. Bring a coat, it's raining."
Marvin nodded, downed the rest of his 'coffee' and limped from the room, stopping at the entrance to gather his leather jacket. He donned it, opened the door, and stepped down the stone steps, the rain drizzling down from the grey sky.
The young wizard stumbled into Wand-erers,calling a greeting to the old wandmaker, who sat at his lathe, spinning what looked to be a stem of poplar. His gnarled and long fingers worked with an expert precision, but he still paused when he heard Marvin's greeting. He spun in his stool, with a wide toothed smile.
"Marvin my boy!" Eugene Alton exclaimed. He was seventy-seven years, and just as spry as some of the wands he constructed. His hair was long, tangled, and white as snow, and he sported a beard that matched. Eugene garbed himself in a quilted crimson robe, black dragon scale boots, and at his rotund waist hung a cedar wand with a horned serpent horn core. "Come, come," he said excitedly. "I'm working on a new wand." This happened nigh everyday, the man simply loved his work, and even more he loved displaying it. "Poplar with a mermaid scale core, rigid, and perfect for divination. It's specially made for Joshua Perk, he's known as the Soothsayer."
"That's fantastic, Mr. Alton," Marvin said, with a wry smile.
"Quite so, my boy," the old man replied. "Quite so. Now, I need you polishing scales, honing horns, and grooming feathers. Also Blodwen needs feeding, as does Bendis."
Marvin stretched his back, and limped to the back of the store to find a pair of large bird cages, one housing a male barn owl, the other a female great grey owl. The young wizard approached the female first, she was, as her species specified, large and the colour of ash.
"Morning Bendis, sorry to wake you," Marvin whispered, cracking open the door to her enclosure. With cracking knees he knelt to the ice box underneath it, plucked a rather meaty mouse up by the tail, and plopped it in her cage with a thud. Bendis nuzzled against his hand with her feathered head and gave his fingers an appreciative nip. He scratched her under the beak, gave her a smile, and then proceeded to lock the cage.
Blodwen was a different story, where the female was pleasant and trusting, he was bitter and cautious. Though he couldn't be blamed. Eugene had found him on the side of a No-Maj road in his travels, with a broken wing, and missing eye. That story only reaffirmed Marvin's thoughts on humans being cruel creatures. Nonetheless, proper precautions were to be taken when feeding him. The wizard slipped on a thick leather glove, collected another overfed mouse and deposited it in Blodwen's cage, removing his hand quickly and avoiding eye contact with the beaten up, brown barn owl.
"There you go, boy," Marvin said gently. "Enjoy."
With the birds being fed, it was time to set to work on the other tasks he had been assigned. Marvin walked to one corner of the shop, gathered a large wooden box, murmured the incantation to open it, and selected a long white Thunderbird feather from the wares; he always started with a Thunderbird feather, he considered it good fortune. The young wizard set to work pruning it, plucking the dirt from it, and making it look presentable.
"How many did you want of each?" he called to Eugene.
The old man stroked his long beard. "Four feathers, seven scales, and a handful of horns should do it, I'd think."
This order took majority of the morning, and when Marvin was finished he set it in front of Eugene for his inspection.
"Brilliant work as usual, my boy. These will suit me just fine. Did you want to carve designs on the poplar wand for Joshua Perk? I'm afraid my eyes aren't quite what they used to be."
Marvin had been looking forward to this, this was his forte. "What does he want on it?"
"He wants it to be etched with spirals up the shaft, and the butt of the handle is supposed to represent an eye. Think you can pull that off?" Eugene asked with a wink.
"I think I can manage," Marvin said with a dry grin.
"I never doubted you for a moment. Did you want to rest for a mo' first? Your limp's become quite pronounced since you've arrived."
The young wizard gave the old man an appreciative smile, but said. "I'll be sitting when I do the designs, that should suffice."
"Ah, you'll work yourself to death," Eugene scolded. "But before you start, would you care for a sandwich and a spot of coffee?"
"That sounds fantastic." Marvin admitted.
The old man cracked his knuckles and gestured for his employee to follow him up the stairs that led to his living quarters.
"We'll open the doors after lunch, Mr. Perk is scheduled to be around here near closing," he took a silver pocket watch embossed with the Wampus of house Wampus, "We have a solid five hours and thirteen minutes before that, and I'd say we've earned a break."
Eugene's house, despite his fortune, was small and cramped. This was how the old man liked it, being a character of simple pleasures: Wand making, reading, eating, and of course the occasional whiskey.
His living space was mas made up of a curtained off single bed shoved against the corner., a sitting area filled with cushy, well worn chair, and the kitchen was sparse, consisting of only a wood stove and a small fridge. Wands that he had made lined the walls alongside photos of his deceased wife, Evelyn. Sometimes Marvin would catch Eugene talking to them.
"Egg-salad alright with you?" The old man, who's head was buried in the refrigerator, called.
"That should be fine, Mr. Alton." Marvin answered, running a finger down the length of an intricate cherry wood wand.
"Serpent horn core," Eugene said, holding a platter of rye bread sandwiches. "Surprisingly springy, great for duelling."
Marvin nodded appreciatively, "Brilliant as usual."
"You flatter me, my boy. One day you will a brilliant craftsman as well, I can feel it in my old bones."
"Thank you, Mr. Alton."
The old man set the dish on the coffee table, and sank into his leather armchair. "Now how's about you go make a pot of tea. I think there's a lovely green in the cupboard, and there's cream in the fridge."
"Right," Marvin said with a smile, setting to work with the kettle.