the inventor ➝ fantastic beasts

1924

Five months later, Erin was still deep in her grieving period. 

She hadn't left her new apartment for only two months, which was a significantly shorter time than the aftermath of her parents death. But, even though she never would have admitted it, her suffering was far, far stronger for Raymond. 

After all, she had only been a child when her parents had died. Although she had, of course, been upset, she hadn't fully understood. She hadn't known how they had died, only that they had been killed in action. 

But this time, understanding the cause of her cousin's death, understanding the horrible injustice of it all - it was enough to send a girl crazy.

Somehow, on the third month, when she started going outside again, she got herself a job to keep herself fed. It was cleaning up at a woodworking shop. It didn't pay much, but it was enough.

Months later, she would look back and thank Merlin that she had got herself that job - for if she hadn't, she never would have started inventing.

The old woman who had hired her, Geraldine Aster, was a tough, fiery thing. Her back was hunched, and she was just a little shorter than Erin. Her scarred hands were gnarled and leathery, her clothes were forever covered in sawdust, and she always wore her thin silver hair in a tiny bun at the back of her head. 

For the first few days of working there, the old woman rarely spoke, merely giving Erin the odd glance when she made a noise that was too loud for her liking. But her beady, deep green eyes didn't miss the young, dark haired girl intently watching her work. 

Truth be told, Geraldine was rather gifted at her job. Her shop, Not Necessarily Necessary, sold anything and everything that could be made out of wood, that fit the description of the shop's name, such as wooden pipes that she enchanted to puff smoke on their own, extremely complicated geometric wooden shelves, and wand holders in the shape of a Grindylow's hand (but she did make the odd necessary thing, like shelves that could sort themselves to locate a desired object). She considered her shop to be a very sophisticated jokes store. She wasn't surprised at the young girl's attention.

When she worked, she didn't use magic until the very end to charm it or give it a finish. Even though some would consider that to be impractical, especially when using magic to do work faster was growing in popularity, she considered it to be traditional and more personal. She instead opted for saws and hand files. 

So while Erin was manually scrubbing the stained floor in the back of the shop, her arms aching, still in the daze of her mourning, and saw Geraldine shaping away at the wood without even a trace of magical help, it caught her attention immediately, and sparked an idea in her head.

On the first three days of working there, she held back, keeping to the back of the shop while the old woman sold her products to the customers. But by the fourth day, her curiosity of the woman's techniques and trade grew too strong.

So, she approached Geraldine, who had her back to her, as carefully as she could, still psyching herself up to talk to her. 

But then, almost as if she could sense her, the old woman whipped around to face her, oddly fast for someone her age. Erin jumped, and felt her face heat up with embarrassment. 

"What're you sneaking up on me for, girl? Speak, speak!" Geraldine cried whilst Erin recovered as fast as she could.

"Sorry, Miss Aster -" Erin started, pushing her braids out of her face.

"Geraldine, if you please," she interrupted roughly, turning back to her work (a clock that looked disproportionately cut).

"Geraldine," Erin started over again, and took a quick breath. "Do you think you could... um... teach me your trade?"