Post by Salted Squid on Nov 21, 2016 11:28:23 GMT -5
Skylar Brennnan
Powell's Bookstore was peaceful and quiet at this time of morning. The doors were open, and every once in a while a customer would come through the doors, but for the most part the little shop remained quiet. The only sounds came from the rustle of paper behind the front desk, the periodic scritch of cat claws, and the soft, consistent blow from the store's ventilation system. Every once in a while, there would be the sound of heavy footsteps coming from the floor above; the owner's family lived in a small apartment above the tiny bookshop, and at this time of day his wife would be getting ready for work and his kids for school. Once or twice, there would be a tiny squeak from the wheel of the book cart. Beyond that, however, the bookstore remained peaceful, quaint, and quiet.
That was exactly the way that Skylar liked it.
Cloaked in the silence in the bookstore, she walked up and down the aisles of the store, blue green eyes scanning the rows upon rows of the books on the shelves. Every once in a while, she would stop, pulling a book from the shelf where it was out of place, or other times placing one in its proper place. Skylar had always been so dissatisfied with the carelessness of muggle patrons. Many of them would pull a book from the shelf, then leave it halfway across the store, not even bothering to leave it on one of the clearly marked return carts. Sometimes books would be left on tabletops, abandoned and unwanted, and she cringed every time she saw one. It fell upon the young Slytherin to return these rejected books to their proper homes so that new, excited eyes could discover them for the first time.
It had been this way since she had first come to America. Skylar had needed a job. The owner of Powell's Bookstore had needed someone to clean up his store every morning. She earned ten dollars an hour, working perhaps three hours a day, just re-shelving books and dusting the shelves. It wasn't much, but it was enough to put food in the muggleborn's belly. Thankfully, she wasn't responsible for paying rent. She just cooked dinner.
Being muggleborn, Skylar understood the necessity of having a job in the muggle world, a concept that many purebloods didn't understand. But if you wanted to look normal to muggles, having a normal job was essential. So was having money. Skylar saw that, and accepted it. She even did all of her work without her wand-- though she did keep it tucked into her pocket, just in case.
Living in the wizarding world, you never knew when you might need protection.
Skylar stopped the now empty cart at the end of the last row, pausing to stretch. Heading to the front, she paused to lean against the front counter. "I'm headed out for coffee. You want anything before I go?"
The old, wizened muggle man behind the countertop looked up from the reciepts he was filing. Skylar liked him, unlike a lot of muggles. He was kind, and generous, and seemed to understand the way that her mind worked. Even among wizards and witches, Skylar had always felt out of place. Her mind worked faster than most, was more efficient. Not many people understood that, but Mr. Powell did. Skylar appreciated him for that.
Mr. Powell smiled. "I'm good for now, thank you. Enjoy your day, miss Brennan."
With a smile and a nod, Skylar pushed her way out the door. She headed straight for Expecto Expresso, a little wizard-owned coffee shop. It wasn't a long walk, and reaching the door, she pushed her way inside, getting in line at the front counter. She ordered a regular coffee, black, no cream or sugar. Taking her seat, she headed to a booth up against the window, taking a seat and leaning back to sip her drink. She'd recognized Damian, the Slytherin house leader, as well as Rhea Seymour, the Gryffindor house leader. Oh, boy. This ought to be interesting. With a smirk of amusement, Skylar flipped Damian a wave, as if to say, good luck with that one!
One thing was for sure-- this promised to be an interesting day.
Powell's Bookstore was peaceful and quiet at this time of morning. The doors were open, and every once in a while a customer would come through the doors, but for the most part the little shop remained quiet. The only sounds came from the rustle of paper behind the front desk, the periodic scritch of cat claws, and the soft, consistent blow from the store's ventilation system. Every once in a while, there would be the sound of heavy footsteps coming from the floor above; the owner's family lived in a small apartment above the tiny bookshop, and at this time of day his wife would be getting ready for work and his kids for school. Once or twice, there would be a tiny squeak from the wheel of the book cart. Beyond that, however, the bookstore remained peaceful, quaint, and quiet.
That was exactly the way that Skylar liked it.
Cloaked in the silence in the bookstore, she walked up and down the aisles of the store, blue green eyes scanning the rows upon rows of the books on the shelves. Every once in a while, she would stop, pulling a book from the shelf where it was out of place, or other times placing one in its proper place. Skylar had always been so dissatisfied with the carelessness of muggle patrons. Many of them would pull a book from the shelf, then leave it halfway across the store, not even bothering to leave it on one of the clearly marked return carts. Sometimes books would be left on tabletops, abandoned and unwanted, and she cringed every time she saw one. It fell upon the young Slytherin to return these rejected books to their proper homes so that new, excited eyes could discover them for the first time.
It had been this way since she had first come to America. Skylar had needed a job. The owner of Powell's Bookstore had needed someone to clean up his store every morning. She earned ten dollars an hour, working perhaps three hours a day, just re-shelving books and dusting the shelves. It wasn't much, but it was enough to put food in the muggleborn's belly. Thankfully, she wasn't responsible for paying rent. She just cooked dinner.
Being muggleborn, Skylar understood the necessity of having a job in the muggle world, a concept that many purebloods didn't understand. But if you wanted to look normal to muggles, having a normal job was essential. So was having money. Skylar saw that, and accepted it. She even did all of her work without her wand-- though she did keep it tucked into her pocket, just in case.
Living in the wizarding world, you never knew when you might need protection.
Skylar stopped the now empty cart at the end of the last row, pausing to stretch. Heading to the front, she paused to lean against the front counter. "I'm headed out for coffee. You want anything before I go?"
The old, wizened muggle man behind the countertop looked up from the reciepts he was filing. Skylar liked him, unlike a lot of muggles. He was kind, and generous, and seemed to understand the way that her mind worked. Even among wizards and witches, Skylar had always felt out of place. Her mind worked faster than most, was more efficient. Not many people understood that, but Mr. Powell did. Skylar appreciated him for that.
Mr. Powell smiled. "I'm good for now, thank you. Enjoy your day, miss Brennan."
With a smile and a nod, Skylar pushed her way out the door. She headed straight for Expecto Expresso, a little wizard-owned coffee shop. It wasn't a long walk, and reaching the door, she pushed her way inside, getting in line at the front counter. She ordered a regular coffee, black, no cream or sugar. Taking her seat, she headed to a booth up against the window, taking a seat and leaning back to sip her drink. She'd recognized Damian, the Slytherin house leader, as well as Rhea Seymour, the Gryffindor house leader. Oh, boy. This ought to be interesting. With a smirk of amusement, Skylar flipped Damian a wave, as if to say, good luck with that one!
One thing was for sure-- this promised to be an interesting day.