Haunted

6 | a darkness

A/N: 

This chapter contains some racist opinions presented as fact (racism of the blood purity variety). Please read with caution. 

"Hello?" she called into the empty shop, eyeing the dust collected on every visible surface, and beginning to wonder if she'd stumbled into a closed down business. She meandered over to the front desk and gave the bell on the counter a gentle ring. At once, a man appeared from the back of the shop, striding so quickly towards her that she jumped back instinctually. Had it not been for the kind smile on his lips, she would have run out of the exit.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, my dear," he said, his light eyes open wide so she could see both irises in their entirety. "You've come for a wand, I suppose." She only nodded, anxiety freezing her vocal cords. She wished she'd accepted her mum's offer to come into the shop with her, wished that she hadn't let her ego allow her nose to rise into the air and proclaim that she'd be fine on her own.

In a whirl, he turned towards the stacks of boxes and reached up to the top shelf of the one nearest to him, withdrawing one that looked like a shrunken version of a shoebox. It was deep violet in color, and when he removed its lid before her, she found that the inside was lined in crushed velvet of the same shade. But the velvet was not the main attraction. No, what grabbed at her attention was the wand nestled amongst it. It was drawing her in, begging her to pluck it from the box. The pull was magnetic in feeling.

She obliged, her right thumb and index finger gently seizing the wand from its box. She didn't need to see the beaming grin on the shopkeeper's face to know that this wand was her wand. She could feel it. Something in her bones was clicking into place. A warmth was spreading through her body, and she could imagine shafts of light bursting through her organs into her bloodstream, rushing into every vein under every inch of skin.

She jumped at the sound of the shopkeeper's voice. "Ten and three quarter inches of vine wood with a core of dragon heartstring," he breathed, his tone faraway. Her eyes flicked up and his silver ones were boring into her soul. She gripped the wand tighter, an uncharacteristic possessiveness taking hold of her. "Go on then," he urged. "Give it a try."

There was likely no need because she couldn't imagine that this wand wasn't the wand for her. But her curiosity outweighed her logic, and hesitantly, she flicked the wand in a semicircle in the air, only her wrist moving. From its tip shot out a beam of brilliant light, so bright that she had to look away. But the shopkeeper stared right into it, his face illuminated, turning his pale skin a golden yellow.

"Brilliant," he said, and his voice in the silence broke the spell, the light fading until she was blinking rapidly in an effort to readjust her eyes to the dim interior of the shop. "You are a most powerful witch, indeed," he murmured, and his eyes found her again, a chill dancing down her back.

He led her over to the counter where she paid for the wand, reluctantly setting it back in its place in the velvet box. He tied a measure of thin black ribbon around it before offering it to her with a grin. "I look forward to seeing where this wand takes you, Miss...?" His statement ended on a higher pitch as he waited for her to fill in the rest of her name.

She flushed. "My name is—"

A flurry of pounding on her door pulled her ruthlessly out of her dream. "Hazel!" a voice shouted. "Are you in there?" There was another series of knocks on the door as she sprang from the bed and swung open the door to find Red with her hand curled into a fist, raised and poised to continue knocking.

She rubbed her bleary eyes, taking in the sight of her friend already dressed in training clothes. "What?" she asked dumbly.

Red huffed. "Did you sleep through the alarm? Breakfast started five minutes ago!" Her eyes flew open, all traces of disorientation clearing, and she whirled around to the armoire, pulling out her own set of training clothes. Red stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, turning to give Hazel privacy as she tore off her pajamas and changed. "I knocked on your door, but you didn't answer. I assumed you'd already gone down."