date: july 9th, 1979
time: 3:36 pm
location: hobby shop, muggle london
status: closed // @ofmugglestudies
As far as Gilderoy was concerned, there were very few muggle dilemmas wixen hadn’t come up with a better, more proactive solution for. Under most circumstances, it seemed as if they were living lightyears ahead their mundane counterparts, brimming with knowledge and spells that could simplify the most menial of tasks. The sole exception, in Gilderoy’s most humble opinion, was the act of documenting his esteemed works. That was what led him into parts unknown following a hearty lunch at the Leaky Cauldron.
Since purchasing his beloved typewriter, he has paid this particular shop a visit just a handful of times, making a point to grab a surplus of supplies each trip. Arms loaded down with all the essentials — rolls of parchment, ink ribbons, white paint to fix the errors he seldom made — he takes his place in line behind a persnickety looking fellow with a handlebar mustache steering what appeared to be a carriage full of welding tools. Strange folk, muggles were, with their facial hair and casual whims. The sooner he paid for his purchases and crossed back into familiar territory, the better.
Twenty excruciating minutes later, he finds himself face-to-face with the surly man behind the counter. As the clerk begins to key in his haul, Gilderoy thumbs through his coinpurse only to be met with a collection of sickles and galleons. Perfectly acceptable currency in the Wizarding World, worth nothing more than a piece of jumper lint amongst muggle-kind. “Oh, Merlin. It appears I’m short a few coins.” Kicking himself for the oversight, he plasters on that winning grin in an attempt to sway fortune in his favor. “My good man, could I perchance trouble you to hold on to these items while I scurry over to the bank? I assure you, I’m extremely trustworthy.” Behind him, the line seems to grow longer by the second. Perhaps this little excursion wasn’t such a bright idea after all.
charity is initially persuaded into the store by the massive display of pens visible in the window. despite many trips to the registrar’s office ( in which she had her first encounter with the writing utensil ) , she still found herself fascinated by the inventions. but , as she opens the door , she finds that the boy at the counter has really familiar hair. OH , MERLIN. she’s going to faint. from the very first time she saw him in the great hall in her first year , to the dusty little hobby shop in muggle london -- charity could recognize those beautiful, luscious locks a n y w h e r e.
how wonderfully humble gilderoy is , coming to muggle london -- surely doing so to touch upon his muggle roots -- and purchasing his writing supplies from a humble brick and mortar shop. she knows what her next gift will be. nervously , she grabs the nearest object ( a porcelain figurine of a rosy - cheeked cherub ) and joins the line. as she inches closer to the counter , charity hopes to catch a glimpse of his face , maybe even the musical lilt of his voice.
she gasps , hearing the problem. “ i ... uh ... i can cover. ” whatever the cost of his purchase ... well , it doesn’t compare to the cost of her love. that and with all the gifts she sent to him , she’s probably spent more on him before. charity moves forward , placing her angel on the counter. “ all together , please. ”
