Interacting with @Mistie Meador

Nicholas shrugged when Mistie insisted on calling him Nicholas. Truthfully, he answered well enough to both, on occasion he even answered to Nick. Names were just that after all, names, and he wasn't about to push a point with regard to it. As long as whatever nickname people gave him wasn't particularly cruel or derogatory, he had no issue in answering to it.

However, the boy couldn't help but grin when the girl mentioned the fact that she had no intention of joining her brother in Ravenclaw. The McCowan clan were a mix of Gryffindor and Slytherin, and his mother had been a Hufflepuff, truthfully Ravenclaw was the house he felt the least connection to. Probably because it was the one house that had never entered into the heated discussions about which house was best, and who cheated and how in each particular year, that his vast wizarding family seemed to erupt into every time that they reminisced over their old boarding school days. He still had a distinct memory of his uncle and father almost coming to blows one year over the manner in which Gryffindor had managed to win the House Cup one particular year. There had been a lot whisky consumed that night, although the two men continued to deny it to the children.

Both his thoughts and Mistie's speech trailed off as Ollivander spoke, evidently, his father had finally returned to the counter in order to finalise the purchase. Travis, however, instead of looking sufficiently chastised seemed instead to be harbouring a much greater deal of anger. Or perhaps it was simply boyish mischievousness. Regardless, in that brief moment that his father had turned away, the boy had moved from the bench.

The store turned into a flurry of movement, Mistie was busy discussing her new wand with Ollivander, who was dedicatedly going through the process of showing options. Nicholas's father turned back toward where he had left Travis, only to find that the boy had moved from his seat. In turn, the younger lad had all but rushed toward his older brother. Nicholas, for his part, didn't move, more paralysed by confusion than anything else.

Travis jabbed his brother in this stomach with his outstretched fingers, giggling as he did so.

"Bloody hell," Nicholas grumbled in response, shooting to his feet and pushing his brother to the ground.

Before the two boys could come to blows, however, their extremely irritated father all but stomped over. The tall man grabbed his younger son by his collar and hoisted him to his feet. As he did so, his oldest son returned to his seat, suddenly rather intimidated by the scene that was playing out before him.

"You two are being so flaming embarrassing," The man raged in hushed tones, "Don't hit your brother, Trav, you've been doing this all day and it's absolutely not on."

The boy opened his mouth to speak, only for his father to cut him off, "No."

Before Nicholas could process what was occurring, his father had reared on him, "Stay here."

Just like that, the man was hauling the disgruntled and increasingly irate smaller boy out of the store. Leaving Nicholas sitting on the bench alone. Barely any time had passed since Mistie had gotten up to get her wand and already Nicholas's family had all but stormed out of the shop. What surprised him most, however, was just how quiet it had been. There was none of the yelling and carrying on that usually accompanied a family fight, his father's cold rage had simply manifested and Travis had been hauled off to be brought down a peg or two in private.

As a result, to an outside observer it almost appeared as if nothing had changed with the boy. He remained seated in the same position that he had been prior to his short fight with his brother, only his face betrayed that anything was a amiss. A mixture of confusion and fear of getting into trouble played across his eyes.

So much so that he almost missed when Mistie looked over her shoulder at him with a smug look, it seemed that she had managed to get one over Ollivander. The elderly wandmaker having to put away the wand that he had given the girl to trial before returning to his stock.

With little else to do while he waited in the shop, Nicholas turned his attention to the girl and her wand selection. It seemed that, as was often the case with young wizards and witches, that the old shopkeeper was having difficulty finding her the correct wand.

The latest one that be brought forward seemed to cause him the most apprehension, and he could see that Mistie was apprehensive about it as well. With good cause, as soon as she lifted it, it was in action, a purple light shot out from its tip and shattered a window at the front of the store.

Nicholas was slightly taken aback, jostling in his seat and shooting his eyes from the wand to the window and back again.

Yet to Ollivander and his latest customer, the magic seemed to be the sign that the wand was correct.

Nicholas blinked a couple of times. He couldn't seem to get a grasp on anything that day.

Interacting with @Mistie Meador

As easily as the window had been shattered by Mistie testing her wand, Mr Ollivander set the broken glass right. The portal was repaired, as if nothing untoward had ever happened to it. Considering the business that he was in, this sort of thing must be the exact opposite of uncommon. Such a thought made Nicholas feel almost silly for worrying about breakages within the shop, especially when magic could so easily be used to right the mishaps that were so often caused by his young customer base.

Still, even as he found himself calming down, Nicholas still felt perplexed by what was occurring at the counter. His attention turned from the window and its magical repair, to the girl and the old man, hushed tones that betrayed a conversation that he was certain he was not supposed to hear. What on Earth was going on over there? Curiosity and politeness competed for the forefront of the boy's mind, and the former won out, his ears pricked and his attention piqued, the soon-to-be first year did his best to try to pick up a stray word or two. But it was all for nothing, and he found that all he was rewarded with for his eavesdropping was embarrassment for having done it.

Confusion once again broached his face. Where earlier it had arisen due to the explosion of the window being the surefire sign that the wand had met its witch, now it was due to the conversation that had just taken place before him.

Still, his confused look and the remnant thoughts as to the nature of the conversation he had just witnessed dissipated as the girl walked back over to the bench, positively beaming. The energy was contagious, and the lad couldn't help but give a smile of his own.

Then she suggested something that made him brighten even more, ice cream. After putting up with Travis for the entire day, he definitely deserved something sweet. What was more, he still had some galleons in his pocket from when his father had sent him off to collect his books. He'd wisely not spent them all, and now it seemed his foresight was paying dividends.

"Ice cream sounds great!" He answered with a smile, rising to his feet as he did so. "Very neat!" He added in response as she explained the type of wand that she had gotten, what any of it meant, he had absolutely no idea. But it was longer than his, with a different wood and core, so the mere fact that it was so different to his made him genuinely interested. The subtleties of wandcraft may have been beyond him, but he could definitely note that it was a pretty cool trade, all things considered.

As he smiled at the girl, a brief glimmer of fear washed over his face, before it was quickly thrust the back of his mind. What if his father returned? His ice cream plans would be ruined. Clearly there was only one solution.

"No time like the present! Let's go," The words left his mouth in a hurried rush of nervous yet excited energy.

With a wave to Ollivander, he almost ran to the door of the shop, being careful to keep from doing so. The result was an exceedingly hastened walk. With one hand on the door handle, he turned over his shoulder and shot a grin back to Mistie, to ensure she was following, and then he was out the door.

It must have been quite an odd sight, seeing him move out of the shop as if being chased. But he would be damned if he was going to be stopped by his father at this moment, he needed some time away, and besides, it was so close to the term that even if he was in trouble after the fact, his sentence would be light by necessity.

If Mistie was expecting his nervous energy to subside upon leaving the store, she would be sorely mistaken. Tthe usually reserved boy continued with his hurried pace down Diagon Alley, and even into a couple of windy little side-alleys, fortunately still well-lit in spite of their otherwise dreary location. He moved with purpose, and without thought for direction. It was only once he became aware that he didn't exactly know where he was going, that he finally stopped.

Rather sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his head, "Do you, uh, know an ice cream place?" He did hope that his new friend has followed him in his rather manic display, or rather, in spite of it.