Post by eleanor gwendolen ollivander on Jan 10, 2019 22:39:10 GMT -7
3:21AM. The green, digital numbers were typically a dull afterthought during the daytime, their only important function was to operate as a timer for the microwave they were attached to. In the dark, their neon glow splashed across the wall opposite the microwave. A teakettle nestled on the back burner of the stove, blue flames tickling it’s underbelly to boil the water inside. The kitchen was tiny, but good enough for one person. She barely cooked as it was, her parents always trying to convince her that it was better to keep the family unit together for meals. They seemed to forget that she was stuck in the shop with them all day too. There were other reasons too; Nell hated seeing her sister’s scowl glaring back at her across the dinner table. It was bad enough to get it during work hours, but at home too? What happened in the shop should stay in the shop, but her sister didn’t know how to do that. Letting things go was a sign of weakness in her eyes. A failure.
Nell was, according to the eldest Ollivander child, a bundle of failures when it came to wandmaking. Too much time spent on carving out a quality piece of wood? That wasn’t efficient for the business. Deviate from the family’s trade of only producing wands with three cores? A crime punishable by banishment from the shop. There were also the never-ending criticisms about not being a good enough wandmaker. Most apprentices would have at least moved onto a junior wandmaker position by their fifth year of training. Nell was on her seventh, though not by her own choice. Her sister had long put off allowing her to make wands for the shop. To test her chops with the family’s skills. That was her downfall though, because Nell knew she could produce decent wands. She had been selling them on the sly for a few years now, utilizing materials she bought on her own when she had a little extra saved up or taking scraps of wood that were going to be tossed if they stayed at the shop. Her small apartment was equipped with the tools to allow her to slowly pick away at her craft whenever she had the free time to do so. It was better than bending over to her sister for the rest of her life.
And that was what she was currently working on – a new wand for her private sales. Acacia wood with a hippogriff feather. An extremely loyal wand with only one wielder for life. That sort of bond was too much for herself. Nell preferred friendly wands, ones that let her create beautiful magic and works of art. The one currently propped up on a mount and under the scrutiny of her sharp eyes was the sort for an Auror or for a person that knew how to actually use a wand. She was currently in the process of engraving a design on the handle when a sharp knock came from the front door of her apartment, causing her to almost chip the wood as her tools jumped off of it. Glasses pulled off her nose, where they returned to their normal spot hanging from her neck, Nell peeled her work gloves off and strode over to the door, furious that someone was bothering her this late in the evening. She didn’t even both to look through the peephole before she whipped the door open.