## of July, 2025, at 9.42 a.m. Flourish and Blotts, Diagon Alley.

notes: 𓅥

PV with @Lauren Wong Word Count: ~408/200

The bell dinged softly over her head as Ellaine crept in through the door. Her hands lingered for a moment on the door handle, the only sign of hesitation she was willing to show, before abruptly letting go. With every breath she took, the scent of old, crisp parchment and leather-bound books settled into her chest, a permeating atmosphere of what could've been quietness and peaceful tranquility broken by the fussing of children and adults alike, hovering nearer to the bookshelves which housed the standard books required for most of the school years.

Ellaine was terribly, terribly glad that her mother was a witch, and a woman of foresight! She had insisted that they buy the books early in June, back when she hadn't even gotten the letter and they weren't even sure that Ellaine was magical. She didn't seem to mind that point when it was brought up, shrugging her shoulders (perhaps she meant that either of her brothers could be magical?) before going back to what she'd been saying. "--the list of books don't change much over the years. We could get most, if not all of it before they send out letters--"

She was right, of course. Ellaine had no real reason to be standing here in the late weeks of July when she'd already bought all of her books, but she had vaguely attempted to persuade her mother towards this shop-- she wanted more books. Her mother had given her that knowing look, before allowing her inside the shop, going off to another direction (maybe a clothing shop?) with a muttered agreement of meeting in the Leaky Cauldron's entrance at 11.

That was more time than she'd expected, but who was she to complain?

Ellaine walked over to the other aisle of book shelves, the one far, far away from where the small crowd most gathered in. And here, Ellaine set about looking through the shelves, tilting her head to the side constantly to read the titles. She felt like an owl, but needs must be met.

A title caught her eye -- it was something about the history of magical traditions -- and she reached out a hand to pick it up, intent on skimming over the book. Her fingers gently admired the realness of it, before pressing herself against the bookshelves so as not to be in the way of a stray customer. Of course, that couldn't prevent every single chance encounter...

I hope you're having a good day/evening/night, wherever-whoever you are.