immortality [wizarding world] | ⚐

四

the start of their friendship

"A wand?" Ambrose breathed, sounding incredulous. "Something like that actually exists?"

"Of course," said Nicholas, as they sat together in the kitchen that Ambrose had created. She was getting better at handling illusions, and she had crafted a new house for them already. "Did you think witches and wizards just waved their arms around and hoped for the best?"

"Sort of." She smiled meekly. Nicholas laughed heartily, but she knew it wasn't in an unkind way.

"Oh, Rosie. Sometimes I forget that you are new to these things. And that you're only four!"

"That's easy enough to forget. I'm incredibly mature." She said, sitting up straight.

"That's true," Nicholas admitted. "We've been chatting for two hours in this kitchen and you've only swatted my elbow sixty-three times." She swatted his elbow once more. "Sixty-four." He whined.

"Stop changing the subject." She pleaded, curious about the wands that Nicholas had just mentioned.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine."

"Well –" Ambrose looked baffled. "Aren't you going to tell me more?"

"No." Nicholas taunted her, ruffling his blonde curls. "I'm going to show you."

"Show me? How?"

"I'll take you to Ollivanders."

"Ollivanders?" Exclaimed Ambrose, her confusion flashing on her face.

"It's a wand shop." Nicholas patiently explained.

"Wait – does this mean we're going back to the real world?" The realisation dawned on her, and she looked up to Nicholas, her face enlivened at the prospect.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Rosie, but you're not ready for that yet," She sighed. "But we'll be going as a form that I prefer much more than being visible," She tilted her head, confused. "Invisible." He said, and she raised her eyebrows.

"That sounds like a rubbish idea."

"I'm going to count that as sixty-five, Miss. Littleray," he gasped, and rose from his seat. "You didn't even hit me – fine – but your words had a much bigger impact on me than any of your hits so far." Nicholas grabbed her hand. "Are you ready?"

"Honestly, Nicholas, at this point, I think I've seen it all." Ambrose grinned at him.

"Rosie, you have no idea. Now do me a favour and close your eyes."

Ambrose shook her head, laughing, and closed her eyes.

◦

After what seemed like two seconds, Nicholas poked Ambrose in the side. She opened her eyes and covered her mouth, amazed at what she was seeing.

"Where are we?" She whispered, and glanced at the people walking around her. They were wearing strange robes and hats that looked far more advanced than any clothing she had ever seen.

"Melrand, Brittany." Nicholas boomed, and Ambrose jumped two feet in the air. He looked at her, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "They can't hear us, Rosie. That's the entire point of being invisible."

Ambrose was shocked at what was around her. She tried to absorb everything – from the various wooden houses that seemed to be overflowing with magic to the witches and wizards chatting amongst themselves. The village itself wasn't developed, but the magic that rested amongst it was breath taking. Even Ambrose, who had been introduced to this world a mere hours ago, could feel it. She stared as a group of younger children chased a horse down a path, and almost cried in shock when the horse morphed into a human. She turned her head again, and saw a shop with various vials and glasses, holding everything from eyes to what appeared to be toenails. Further ahead, she saw a battered sign advertising a place called Carthweld's Clothing and Wizardly Wear. Ambrose shook her head in disbelief when she saw the millions of owls perched on the roof of the largest structure in the medieval village. She thought she saw a man who hair had turned a shade of electric pink, but as she turned to look closely at him, his hair had already changed to a fiery rouge.