Homecoming Who: Ollivander, Helena Ravenclaw, whomever else want to When: At the beginning of the new week Where: The Library, Diagon Alley entrance Why: He just can't stay away from that place... -____- Rating: General Status: Open/Incomplete
The day was bright, the birds were chirping, December was announcing fresh and barely drizzling. The lack of Muggle factories did a wonder to London weather, no doubt.
Ollivander strolled down the Diagon Alley, nodding at fellow shop keepers. One would think nothing ever happened around there.
It was a shame that Igor Karkaroff died, and this Dolohov fellow. They were agreeable company, though pestered with their fair share of troubles and lacking sight of the truly important matters in life. He was just getting into his analysis of that mark of theirs too. Perhaps he could go and ask Voldemort about the spell's construction? The least the man could do was to compensate the trouble he caused his peers by disturbing a scholarly shrine in such a high handed manner. What in the world brought that about anyway? It wasn't as if the Library forbid entrance to anyone.
It was with those reflections that Ollivander made his way to the main doors of the Library, and squinted at the building with a criticizing eye. The scorch marks and creaks were repaired, but the material was obviously stretched thin at places, and the wards were fraying at the edges, where new layers setted turbulently against the old ones. It would take time for those to blend in smoothly, perhaps a month, perhaps a year.
The repair work itself was good craftsmanship, however, and attention was paid to details. Ollivander liked that.
Satisfied, Ollivander walked unhurriedly into the main hall, double doors decrypting gold painted sphinxes opening before him without a noise. Had he not have his customary distracted and unfocussed facial expression, one would think he was stalking claim to his own property, the way he went about greeting every painting and statue in the hall with overbearing familiarity.