|
|
Post by Fred Weasley II on Feb 6, 2014 12:35:15 GMT -5
The stock room was locked, the money was removed, the lights were off, and the joke shop was shut. Fred stood on the step outside the family business and gave a contented sigh, smiling to himself as he watched the end-of-the-day shoppers hurry up and down the street trying to grab the last few items on their lists, or amble towards the pub for an well-earned tipple.
Speaking of well-earned, the amount of snotty little kids that Fred had had the misfortune of dealing with alone that day (Roxanne was Merlin knows where!) resulted in him making a beeline straight down the street toward Quality Quidditch Supplies. He'd worked more days at the joke shop than usual that week, having been given the week off from practices to rest up before the coming match, and it was for the sake of his morale that Fred considered buying himself something nice.
Being a reserve for Puddlemere United had more perks than just being able to stand in the vicinity of Brigid Finnigan for several hours a week; players were given priority on the first shipments of brand new brooms and equipment that came in, sometimes a couple of days before they were set to go on sale. And this week, Fred was in search of a new broom.
He pushed open the door to the shop and gave a nod to cashier behind the counter, a bald fellow whom Fred had spent hours of school summer holidays chatting to about the state of the league, and although he wasn't certain he even knew the guy's name, they shared a smile and a nod before Fred turn towards the magazine rack on the wall. He needed some professional help in picking out the best broom within his price range, and his team-mates had all insisted that he couldn't go wrong with a copy of Which Broomstick. After a moment, Fred spotted the last copy of the latest edition stuffed haphazardly back into its place on the right, and once managing to wrangle it out and flick it open, he sort of wished he hadn't bothered. A complicate grid of statistics that folded out so that it stretched to approximately the length of a decent broomstick itself, claimed it was the 'quickest and simplest way to find a broom that meets your specific needs'.
What he needed, Fred thought, frowning down at the page, was someone to translate the bloody thing. He had the sudden urge to stuff the thing back where he'd found it and leave, which, it occurred to him, was probably what the last person had done.
|
|
62 posts
Offline
Slytherin
|
Post by Vivienne Vaisey on Feb 6, 2014 13:17:59 GMT -5
Vivi didn't pay much attention to the door of Quality Quidditch Supplies as it opened, too busy examining the newest broomstick in the shop which hadn't made it to the shelf yet. It would be going up tonight, she figured, judging from the space that was being cleared in the window display. Last season's Lightning 2020 was being moved aside, which was what had caught her eye when she'd been walking down Diagon Alley looking for something new and expensive to buy. She desperately need the pick-me-up after that disastrous incident in the Leaky.
Of course, she'd instantly gone in and asked what'd be replacing the Lightning 2020, and the sales assistant had been glad to comply by showing her this beauty: the Skyline Arrowhead, the first offering from the trendiest broom company of recent times. She scrutinised every twig - fine-tuned and arranged to improve aerodynamics - individually set into the magically mixed wooden handle. She also minutely examined the distinctive shape of the handle to its shiny but not slippery polish, and the golden Skyline carved into the head of the handle, with a dark silver arrow underlining the Skyline logo. She analyzed every aspect of the broom, before nodding and smiling at the sales assistant.
Hopefully, this new broom would sweeten the pot so she could get on the Slytherin Quidditch Team this year. Her eyes gleamed; she couldn't wait to show her friends and her father and Dhruv her newest acquisition.
She looked around the shop for other accessories that she might need for the new broom. Her basic cleaning kit was nearly out, so she figured she might as well stock up on supplies. And, of course, whatever little nifty additions that would happen to catch her eye. She walked around the shelves, mouth scrunched contemplatively as she fingered a Snitch - she could always have one around to keep her company whenever she was studying, she rather enjoyed the whirring sound of its wings. And of course, the Quidditch strategy board with its moving players would definitely be helpful...
She was distracted from her pondering when she heard a little annoyed sound, head swivelling to eye a fellow customer who looked to be frustrated with the latest copy of Which Broomstick?. Vivi nearly smirked, knowing how annoying and technical that darn magazine could be. She sauntered over, Snitch in hand, and smiled. "They're supposed to be helpful in choosing a broom and they're not really, are they?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Fred Weasley II on Feb 6, 2014 19:27:47 GMT -5
Putting the magazine back proved far more difficult than it should have been. He grumbled quietly to himself, trying to neatly replace the fold-out section and close the darn thing but managing only to make the opposite side tumble open. It hung nearly to the floor and Fred swore under his breath. Unfortunately, this was also the same moment he was approached by a young girl who looked strangely familiar for someone he had never met before.
"Not in the slightest," he admitted, smiling back a little wearily as he clawed the pages back into the magazine. "I don't know how anyone'd decode that lot. But then I couldn't even get past the origami stage, so."
Neat or not, Fred shoved the magazine back onto the rack and turned to smile at the girl properly, whom he had first thought was a newly hired sales assistant, but on further inspection realised she looked not much older than Lucy. She had an air about her though, that made her seem completely at home within the Quidditch supplies store, and she toyed with a Snitch in her hand as she spoke. "Do you work here?" Fred asked, wondering whether she knew anything about brooms herself. He'd never given as much interest as his team-mates to the latest models of broomstick, preferring to rely on strategy and skill of play than speed during a game. It was different, however, now that he was earning the wage to perhaps add a little speed to his technique, but he was going to need help.
|
|
62 posts
Offline
Slytherin
|
Post by Vivienne Vaisey on Feb 10, 2014 15:27:10 GMT -5
Vivi grinned as the older boy struggled with the pages in the magazine. She was about to offer her own services, but just before she could get the words out, he'd managed to haphazardly get the page to fit in the magazine before stuffing it quickly back on the stand like it was poison. She laughed out loud at that, before reaching for the magazine herself and pulling it open with the intention of folding it properly. Instead, her eyes caught on the numbers, some of which she figured, and she figured she might as well explain some of it to the confused boy.
"I don't know all of this," she admitted, "but this one is supposed to be height ratio to length of broomstick, and this one is about heavy handed you are with your broom." She grimaced at the charts and tables and endless numbers. "I think it's really useless. I just use my own hands to tell if a broom would suit me or not."
She carefully folded the page properly back into the magazine, and was in the process of idly ironing the creases out of the magazine when he asked if she worked there. Teeth showing in a wide grin, Vivi replied, "Nope. I wouldn't mind on summer holidays, though, I suppose. I just came here to check out the newest broom." She pointed at the counter, where the shop assistant was in the process of wrapping her new Arrowhead. "That was more of a splurge buy, though," she laughed uncomfortably. Vivi may be spoiled and know it - even brag about it sometimes - but she knew when to keep it in and when to let it out. This guy was nice and friendly (unlike that blasted waiter in the Leaky, her whole darn afternoon was wasted because of him), she didn't want to get started on the wrong foot with him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Fred Weasley II on Feb 15, 2014 19:55:19 GMT -5
Fred watched her eye the numbers and shuffled around to peer down at the bit she was reading. He failed to find exactly where she meant, but gave a nod anyway so as not to appear like a complete idiot, which he was increasingly feeling like stood next to the young girl. Never in his life had he considered his height when picking up a broom, nor how heavy handed he was, and it suddenly horrified him that he had been neglecting these apparently extremely important details.
It was somewhat of a relief when she said she thought it was useless, and Fred gave a huff of laughter. "Yeah, I've always just gone off how fast it says it is and how I feel when I'm on it, y'know? And I think I've always been okay," he finished, a little uncertainly.
"Oh, sorry," Fred mumbled quickly, before turning to look where she had gestured, and noticing the broom on the counter, let out a soft 'oooh' sound. It was even more beautiful than he'd heard the guys at the stadium say it was. He walked over to get a closer look and the sales assistant halted his wrapping. "Skyline Arrowhead," Fred breathed, grinning back at the lucky young girl. "It's a beauty, isn't it?" He reached out as if he was going to touch it, but stopped short, letting his hand hover over it as though just being near it was enough.
"Wait a minute, you bought this?" Fred raised a curious eyebrow, only just getting her meaning that she had indeed checked it out and was now purchasing it. "I heard these weren't going on sale until tomorrow? What are you, youngest pro quidditch player in Britain or something?" he joked light-heartedly, because she had to be something special to be affording that work of art.
|
|
62 posts
Offline
Slytherin
|
Post by Vivienne Vaisey on Feb 15, 2014 20:48:13 GMT -5
Vivi felt her face heat up a bit (just a tiny bit, mind you) when his head was bent near hers as he also had a look at the page in her hands. She'd never really been this close to a guy before and she was finding the proximity a little disconcerting. It didn't help that the guy was fairly good looking (she knew her girl friends who squealed over boys and talked about crushes would just about die if they ever came this close to someone like him), and there was the added bonus that he talked Quidditch in a way that didn't put her off. She liked Quidditch as much as the next boy, but talking Quidditch with boys was something Vivi didn't like very much when they were so intent on showing her she was wrong or when they absolutely loved bragging. She was a player, not a cheerleader.
Nodding in agreement with the guy, she replied, "It's the best way, really. These things are made by people who don't understand flying and try to define it by putting numbers on them." Folding the pages neatly back into the magazine and ironing out the creases made by frustrated broomstick buyers, she placed the magazine back on the shelf. "You'll be fine," she assured him with another smile. "I've always done the same thing and not had a problem, either."
"Not a problem," she replied at his apology about mistaking her for a shop assistant. "I wouldn't mind so much working here, really." She followed his eyes back to her newest broomstick and grinned at his reaction. She did love fellow Quidditch enthusiasts - he was like a breath of fresh air to her droll summer, really. She'd been stuck at home with her sisters who only cared about Quidditch when they were looking at hot guys or waiting to see how well Puddlemere did in the league table to get something out of their dad. Vivi'd also written to Zaira Zabini, and that, too, was a nada on the Quidditch talk front. Her only Quidditch hope this summer would be when she would go to India and play a match against her cousin Dhruv. And probably meet someone at the Puddlemere training game in three days.
She followed the guy over to the counter, watching with delight as he appreciated her broomstick. "It really is," she answered with a bright smile when he said it was a beauty. "I just love how they've made the handle this time, and the twigs are individually set and tailored for aerodynamic perfection and maneuverability." She let out a small laugh as he looked to be itching to run a hand over the broom. She usually wouldn't trust random people touching her stuff, especially this broom, but he seemed to be a careful kind of guy, and she trusted him. "You can touch it, you know. It won't bite," she teased gently. She had the decency to look a bit uncomfortable when he picked up that she'd bought it. "Erm, I suppose technically, my father did - it's his money, really. And nope, although I wish I could play for my house team this year. It's... my dad who's a professional player, although he'll actually be retiring this season so..."
The Indian girl cleared her throat uncomfortably, not knowing why she'd felt the need to explain everything, nor why she'd felt the need to downplay her fortune.
|
|
|
|
Post by Fred Weasley II on Feb 25, 2014 20:15:11 GMT -5
He had only known her all of five minutes, but Fred couldn't see why they wouldn't give her a job right on the spot with all of the knowledge she clearly had. Hell, they'd given Fred work for a couple of weekends around fifth year at school, when he was trying to earn his parent's trust back by showing responsibility, and he knew next to nothing compared to this girl. He was about to say as much before he became distracted by the sight of the broom. Fred grinned as she started gushing about the details of it, as if she'd memorised the specifications right out of the advertisement. He raised an eyebrow when she insisted he could touch it, astounded by her generosity, and wasted no time in grabbing the handle. He ran his thumb over the carved name and gave the wood a sturdy grip. "It's mixed wood, isn't it?" Fred asked, sure he had read that somewhere and determined not to sound like the most out of touch quidditch player in the world. He let go again quickly, not wanting to overdo it. He knew exactly how it felt to see somebody touching something that belonged to you even before you'd had a chance to have a go yourself. Fred had spent most of his childhood letting Roxanne get first dibs on anything new of his, or else face having a headache from hearing her wail about it for the rest of the day. He soon found that getting Roxanne to let him show her how to use it was the trick to getting first go and appeasing her curiosity at the same time. Fred rolled his eyes at himself. Of course she was from a wealthy family; much more convincing than being the youngest quidditch player in Britain and not having heard of her. He really was, as Roxanne put it, a plonker, sometimes. And it made even more sense, as the girl casually mentioned, that her father was a pro player. Fred paused to do a little mental math - daughter of a pro player about to retire, of apparent Indian descent - "You're not-?" He raised a curious eyebrow and took a wild stab. "Are you Rich Vaisey's daughter?" OOC: Sorry this took ages! And is really poo!  |
|
62 posts
Offline
Slytherin
|
Post by Vivienne Vaisey on Feb 28, 2014 19:22:43 GMT -5
Because Vivi was keeping a keen eye on his face - under the pretense of being very interested in what he was saying (she was, really) - so she noticed that he was about to say something before the topic of the broomstick was brought up. She opened her mouth again, about to stop him in his tracks to ask him to continue what he was going to say, but she figured that he'd probably be more interested in the broomstick anyway. It'd be weird, anyway, if he showed more interest in talking than in checking out the broomstick. At least, that was what Vee was trying to convince herself. She plastered a smile on her face and followed him.
But Merlin, that grin on his face when she was off talking about numbers and crap that didn't actually interest her. He probably thought she was some first-year Ravenclaw with her spouting of random broom facts but really, it was that smile on his face that kind of just unloosened her tongue a bit. She didn't usually talk this much, especially about broomsticks to a fellow Quidditch player / fan. Matches, games, team rankings in the league, who'd make it to the national teams - those were normal things for her to talk about. Ratios and centimetres and heavy-handedness in flying? She just wasn't a normal girl, clearly. Maybe it was some sort of pathological need for attention, something she'd always loved at home.
Again, though, she found his attention being diverted by that blasted broom, and she wondered idly if she would be better off finding a boyfriend who didn't play Quidditch. She was so horrified by that thought - of finding a boyfriend more than him not playing Quidditch - that she gave herself a mental slap. "Yeah," she replied to his question. She wanted to give him all the details from what she'd read, but she figured that would be a complete unloading of information and she really didn't want him to run screaming about Quidditch-obsessed first-year Ravenclaws trying to impress him. Not that she was, of course.
Another trickle of discomfort went through her, and Vivienne was unsure why she felt a bit funny when he asked her if she was her father's daughter. Maybe it was the nickname 'Rich', because they were pretty rich - not by their own means - and sometimes people weren't really appreciative of that, especially when Parvati Vaisey got a bit high and mighty while strolling down Diagon Alley. Vee cleared her throat again. "Mmm, possibly?" Well, that was rather a straightforward answer. "I mean, yeah, I'm Vivienne Vaisey." She stuck out her hand, almost knocking her new broomstick out of his hands in her nervousness.
(( it's cool, lovely! ^^ ))
|
|
|
|
Post by Fred Weasley II on Mar 8, 2014 8:05:10 GMT -5
Fred couldn't help but notice the way her replies suddenly became shorter as they continued looking over the broom. She looked like she wanted to say more, and he would have been glad to hear it, but for some reason she had stopped herself. Fred just smiled politely and distracted himself with his own revelation.
He couldn't help but feel like he'd said something wrong when asking whether her father was one of his role models and favourite players of all Puddlemere United history. She skirted around it before admitting it and then almost smacked her own broom out of his hand. He gave a light-hearted laugh and made a point of putting the broom back down in front of the shop assistant to let him finish wrapping it up, before taking her hand and giving it a warm shake. "Nice to meet you, Vivienne," he beamed, "Fred Weasley. I'm on the reserves for your dad's team."
Fred wasn't sure if she was okay with talking about her father, but he felt the need to say his piece about the guy. "He's a great man," he all but felt himself gush. "I've heard he doesn't stop talking about you and your sisters even on the pitch." He stopped himself there, not wanting to be one of those who forces you to talk about somebody else and completely disregard the thoughts or feelings of the person stood in front of them.
"I can see where your passion for all of this comes from now," Fred chuckled, gesturing to the quidditch equipment and gadgets lying around the shop. "I grew up with it all too. Hard to get away from it really, when it's there in the family, isn't it?"
|
|
