Classroom Four Eight B

<•~| Cafè and Caffeine |~•>

The room welcomed him as the door rewarded his dash through the snow with a hearty jingle. His eyes devoured the scene. The Cafè was quaint per say, definitely smaller on the outside than on the inside, like a circus tent. First impressions told him it was laying in hiding, it's fake facade to a normal Muggle would suggest that it's nothing more than a cafè, but it's secret menu would speak louder than the Cafè's interior. It was teeming with life, never before had Eloise felt so at home. The room was moody, the lighting pampered this warm feel through their orbs of eggy yellow encapsulated in jar-shaped glass casing that hung low from the ceiling, attached by thin strands of black wire. Ropes of tangled ivy and other plants owned the brick walls, twisting besides chalk boards of menus. Several oak tables and chairs were situated in rows, those close to the windows were separated by filled bookshelves perched upon half-walls of fake brick. The chairs by the windows were more couch-like fitted with a variety of shaped and coloured cushions, majorly more comfortable than the hard oak chairs throughout the rest of the Cafè. The windows were shadowed by fancy curtains made out of a thick linen and were ruffled at the bottom.

He gingerly approached the register, no staff seemed to be at it, instead all hiding away in the back room. The countertop was made of a tinted oak wood with a beautiful shiny finish, it was so shiny in fact that Eloise could see his own reflection. Besides the counter was a large glass display case which had plates upon plates and rows upon rows of sugary sweets and savoury specialties. Behind the counter was wooden racks holding a rainbow of coffee mugs and other trinkets that Eloise only assumed were magical. Drawing in the scent of the Cafè slapped him with sugary delights of chocolate stuffed muffins, iced cupcakes and milky hot chocolates with a subtle twinge of hot chips and pastries lingering in between. His focus suddenly allocated to sound, the clatter of cutlery, the whines of chairs being dragged along wooden floors and overbearing sound of the low buzz that was people mumbling between each other.

A sudden ping of the bell alerted him to the counter. "Good Morning, Sir." A young girl greeted. She was wearing a long, baby blue apron, stained with splatters of substances and powder, over a black turtleneck sweater. Her straight, light brown hair was tied up in a messy bun. Lodged within the manic strands was a pencil, with a fluffy white feather attached to the side. She beamed at him as he realise he was taking a bit too long to respond. "Oh- Uh- Good Morning..." He could've kicked himself with how rude he was being to this girl. His eyes traced over to her name tag, plated in a beautiful gold. "Tawnybell." He noted aloud, nodding politely to her. Something about the name stuck out to him and he couldn't shake the feeling he knows this girl. "Do you have a reservation?" She questioned and swiftly pulled out a sleek, plastic and black clipboard with a piece of paper attached from a alcove under the countertop. She then proceeded to pull the pencil out of her hair and spun it around in her fingers idly. "Y-Yes." Eloise stammered, attempting to rack his brain back to the secret code required to enter the 'Wizard Zone'. Quite possibly the most nerdy word Eloise has ever heard. Tawnybell was once again laying in wait but her eyes spoke another story. Her eyes told him that she was trying to insinuate him to say the magic words, that impatience made Eloise all the more worried. He peered around anxiously, so he were sure that nobody were listening too closely. He then leaned a bit closer towards Tawnybell and mumbled "Do you know where the bathrooms are?" The embarrassment he felt was unmatched by his excitement as Tawnybell nodded. "Sure thing, let me show you." She insisted, before walking out from behind the counter and down the corridor on Eloise's side of the counter.

He hurriedly followed suit behind Tawnybell into the grimy place. It was much too bright, the LED light over head buzzed loudly and occasionally flickered. The walls were plastered with dirty white tiles and the floor tiles were equally as disgusting. Four doors, two on each wall lead into four different bathrooms, male, female, disabled and a baby changing station. However at the end of the corridor was a singular door, much better kept than the others. Plated on the door was a plastic yellow sign that read: 'Utility' with dots of brail underneath. The symbol on the door had a weird looking mop, possibly torn due to old age. On second glance and bending over backwards however, Eloise immediately recognised what it really was. It was a symbol of a wand blasting some sort of spell and even more surprisingly the brail formation spelt out: 'Wry Capricorn Wizard & Witch Outpost' in Elvish. Eloise had never before been more happy to know Elvish. Tawnybell pointed to the male bathroom, "This is the men's bathroom." And then her finger was outstretched towards the Utility Door. "Please don't go in there. The door handle is broken. If you see anyone trying to get in there, please inform us." Tawnybell then turned on her heal and wandered out the corridor.

Eloise craned his head towards the door, suddenly drawn to the door handle she had mentioned. He felt like a moth directed on a set corse to a flame, not even the end of the world would dare break his strides. Once he had reached the doorknob his hand connected with the metallic orb almost magnetically. It struck him as odd, a chill rose up his arm and spread to the rest of his body in a ripple. His bones clattered in a shivery dance. There was definitely something magical about it. Quickly he cleared his throat and spoke the eldritch rhyme: "The Witch of the North that nobody knows. She lives by the seaside, where the lemongrass grows. It's yonder the hillside and under the trees. Past all the Bugbears and bumbling bees." The ditsy jingle was something he'd remembered in detail from Aspen who'd sung it to him a rather bit rudely. Eloise reckoned by the tune it'd must have been a lullaby. He reckoned he had butchered the song, he likely would've felt more embarrassed if the door had ears. Then suddenly the door handle clicked open and swung violently open by itself. He was launched across into the small room As he recovered from the whiplash and checked if the door were still on its hinges, his eyes wandered around the room.