9 Chapter:9 Trip(3): The Town Of Eldermoor
The morning came bright and bustling, the sun's soft glow piercing through the thick foliage of the forest, passed through the van's glass windows, and landed on the sleeping duo.
Victoire awoke to a faint rustling sound and through her groggy eyes saw that Hector, her father, had just slid out of his sleeping bag and was banging his face into the van's back door.
Good to know that she was not the only one who didn't favor early mornings.
Using the 'Aguamenti' spell, Hector conjured a large orb of clean, drinkable water and plunged head-first into the sphere. This was quite a surprise for Victoire, she never knew Hector hated early mornings this much.
Around an hour later, both of them had freshened up and were now having an early morning tea and snack which consisted of some packed fruits and a loaf of cream-stuffed bread. Suddenly, Hector started speaking to Victoire which, once again, was a surprise since she knew he had a particularly fierce aversion to long, meaningless conversations.
"You know Tory, dear. I have been thinking about it for a while and I couldn't help but doubt that our little trip here hasn't been as fun as I hoped it to be."
'Damned right it hasn't! Victoire had imagined a resort, or a magical community as a whole, or maybe somewhere with significance to witches and wizards where they gather. But she had never imagined that he would instead choose a Van trip through the countryside.'
Despite having quite a lot to say, she simply asked,
"Why do you say that, Pa?"
Hector sighed, putting aside his cup, he waved his wand in a circular motion. At once the clearing sprang to life, and the spot where the campfire had been last night was swallowed by the earth. A fresh patch of green appeared in place of the ashes and the foldable chairs, tools, and other items bounced back into the Van.
He turned to look at Victoire and said,
"Well, I admit that when I planned for a countryside trip, I never imagined it to be this monotonous."
He laughed, good-heartedly,
"So, I have decided to start teaching you some basic spells other than Lumos and Incendio."
Good!
Deep inside, Victoire was shooting her hands up in the air and screaming at the top of her lungs, 'LET'S GO', but outside she merely nodded her head.
A broad grin appeared on his face and he started to teach her a spell she had been dying to learn. The repairing charm.
[Spell Name: Reparo
Incantation: Reparo
Wand Movement: The wand movement for the Reparo spell involves a swish and flick, followed by a precise and deliberate point toward the target object or area that needs to be repaired.
Effect:
The Reparo spell is a fundamental mending charm used to repair minor damages or breakages in objects, restoring them to their original, functional state.
Procedure to Perform the Spell:
1. Preparation:
- Ensure you have a clear intention to repair the target object and focus on the desired outcome.
2. Hold Your Wand:
- Firmly grip your wand, readying yourself for the wand movement required to cast the spell.
3. Speak the Incantation:
- Clearly and confidently say, "Reparo," emphasizing the intent to mend and repair.
4. Perform the Wand Movement:
- Execute a swish and flick motion with your wand, followed by a precise pointing towards the damaged object or area.
5. Visualize the Effect:
- As you perform the wand movement, visualize the object or area coming back together, mended, and whole.
6. Focus and Intent:
- Keep your focus on the intended repair, concentrating on the target being restored to its original form.
7. Verify the Repair:
- Check the object or area to confirm that the Reparo spell was successful in mending the damage.]
It took her a better part of an hour to barely be able to mend a broken matchstick but she did learn it quite quickly.
[Spells:
- Reparo (Level 1) (15/100)]
A good start, to a wonderful day ahead, as always 'or so she thought'.
They were just about to go back on their way to Mystic Hollow when a green van painted all green with flowery patterns all over it pulled up right next to them. Inside was that group of teenagers or the Scooby gang as Victoire remembered them being named on TV.
They had been lucky and contacted the curator early in the morning and were about to visit the museum that was supposed to have that knight's armor delivered to them.
Not far behind them was the same blue pick-up truck being driven by what appeared to be a museum staff. Probably there to complete the delivery. They covered roughly five miles before they had to pull into a lane that led to a museum that was, for some unknown reasons, built miles away from the town of Mystic Hollow.
The curator was a small, balding man. Wearing a trench suit, he looked like someone who should be supervising an excavation sight rather than a museum. It didn't help that he was also wearing a particularly expensive brand of leather shoes.
"Oh Dear, Oh Dear, Oh Dear, I suppose I should thank you for finding the black knight, but with Professor White's mysterious disappearance and all... I wish you hadn't."
He sighed while rubbing his palms together. Looking rather ruefully at the armor set being hauled into the museum.
Daphne couldn't help but question,
"Why's that Mr. Wickles? Isn't this piece of armor priceless for an archeologist?"
The Curator, or rather Mr. Wickles, sighed loudly and began his unfortunate circumstances.
"Because of the legend."
And without waiting for others to question him further, he began telling the story,
"The black knight is supposed to come alive when the moon is full and the moon was full yesterday night."
Velma interrupted his narration and asked a rather practical question,
"Then what was the professor doing with tall, tin, dark, and creepy in the middle of the night?"
Taking no offense at the rude interjection, the curator began to answer her question.
"He was delivering it to the museum. All the way from England."
Right at that moment, the two museum staff who had been driving the pick-up called loudly over the hallway,
"Where do you want it Mr. Wickles?"
The curator thought for a moment and then pointed to a hallway that climbed up toward the second floor.
"Put it in the Medieval Room. In the European section. Its plaque is still not ready yet, once they finish polishing that up, we will see where it fits the best."
"Right."
Scooby followed after the two staff members who were pushing the cart and entered a showcase that had a Chinese...ish resemblance. Victoire didn't pay much attention to him after that, she was more focused on what they were gonna eat now that they were so close to their destination.
Shortly after they finished talking with the curator, Hector received two free tickets to the museum. He had made quite an impression on the man. After all, Hector and Victoire looked like tourists and were potential customers instead of the teenagers who showed every sign of being American.
They tanked him, bid the Scooby group farewell, and made their way to Mystic Hollow. Finally, they were so close to their destination. Hector couldn't stop talking about how beautiful the place was, the scenery the magical fare, the community, and the crime rate. Yep, he bragged about how the Aurors had a competition on who could confiscate the largest amount of dark magical items or cursed objects.
"Now, I am even more certain that the Armor is cursed. It's enchanted to confuse the wearer into haunting a place. But the user must be a thief or have impure intentions for the armor to take hold of them."
Hector said in a rather amused tone.
They covered the remaining distance and finally saw the sign that said,
[WELCOME TO MYSTIC HOLLOWS]
'Finally!'
The Mystic Hollows is one of the most enchanting realms of magic in the whole of America. A captivating magical community thrives here, a testament to the rich history, natural beauty, and cultural tapestry of this region.
Located within the picturesque landscapes of New England, the magical community flourishes in harmony with the region's historical charm and natural wonders. Hidden from the eyes of non-magical individuals, this secret realm exists parallel to the bustling towns and scenic countryside that define New England's allure.
The heart of the magical community lies within the magical town of Eldermoor, nestled amid rolling hills and shimmering lakes. Eldermoor exudes an aura of timeless elegance, with its cobblestone streets, colonial-style buildings, and enchanting gas lamps that cast a warm glow as twilight descends. The town's magical aura is palpable, weaving through every corner and imbuing the air with a subtle, ethereal energy.
Eldermoor boasts one of the world's largest magical gathering spots. It Supports a variety of magical establishments that cater to the needs and desires of all who venture into this ancient town.
And it was everything that Victoire had envisioned it to be.
It was about eleven, eleven thirty in the morning when Hector and Victoire finally passed the gates of Mystic Hollow or, as known by the wizarding community, Eldermoor Town. They pulled into one of the driving lots, parking next to a rosewood carriage drawn by winged horses and an open carriage that was drawn by a small group of thestrals.
She was shocked to find that the magical creatures were roaming around, and spells were being performed in broad daylight, despite the somewhat scarce but obvious presence of muggles. But these doubts died down when Hector told her that there were no muggles there, only squibs.
Hector charmed the van with an anti-thieving jinx and Victoire felt the crown around the, was somewhat thinned after that. The higher the prosperity, the more there are crimes, a rather rueful truth but the truth nonetheless.
Their first stop was the well-known Apothecary, owned by the family of yours truly.
The Spellbound Apothecary, with its charming storefront adorned with herbs and mystical symbols. Its display shelves are adorned with a vast array of potions, elixirs, and herbal remedies. Wizards and witches flock around its gate, screaming and shouting out their reputation as well-known Potioneers.
"MOVE OUT OF THE WAY RABBLE!"
"MY GOOD MAN, I AM THIBERUS ZOFER, A MASTER POTIONEER. LET ME GO FIRST!"
"TIMBERWHO? WHAT THE HELL YE TALKING 'BOUT. NONE OF US HERE IS BELOW A MASTER."
"LET ME..."
"NO LE..."
"..."
Suddenly, an extremely sharp voice, amplified by a 'sonorous', made an announcement,
"AND SOLD!!!
THE LAST VIAL OF BANSHEE TEAR IS OFF THE RACK!
THE TREASURE GOES TO THIS NAMELESS GENTLEMAN HERE FOR 15,000 GALLEONS"
And a young man burst through the crowd, running as if his life was at stake here. And it may very well have been, with the looks that other Potioneers were sending after him, Victoire wouldn't be surprised if that young man didn't live to see the moon tonight.
Hector passed by the open auction area and entered through a door labeled 'VIPs'.
The inside of the shop was surprisingly large and clean considering that it sold potion ingredients. Right after the door, the shop opened into a wide hall filled with glass and steel shelves displaying various rare ingredients on them.
Victoire saw a jar labeled 'Veela's hair' and a string of silvery white hair was floating within it. A fit of nameless anger burst in her heart and she stomped on Hector's toes.
Startled, Hector looked down to see why his daughter was acting so strangely and when he saw the hair floating in the jar, he understood and smirked.
"Don't worry, that's not your mother's. It's from a Veela who used an expired "Potters' Conditioner", she lost most of her hair but now she is doing fine."
Potters' Conditioner.
Really?
So the potters did have their fortune based on hair conditioning products. Well, funny as it may have been, she still didn't like the fact that there was a Veela's hair for sale, a part of whoever that idiot was. The anger was surprisingly baseless but still burning with a hot fury waiting to burst forth. She couldn't understand what was the reason for such a violent emotion, such a thing had never happened to her before.
Hector too had sensed her mood. He stooped down and grabbed Victoire by her shoulders and embraced her in a warm hug.
"Don't worry, it's just the bloodline acting up. Once that hair leaves your sight, these violent emotions would disappear as well."
Slowly, the anger left her body, and the usual stillness returned in her mind.
She couldn't say that this incident wasn't terrifying, it was. And a whole lot more scarier now that she knew of the wizarding world. A muggle would have chalked it up as impulse or stress but a wizard couldn't. There were ways to control others without them even knowing what had happened, potions, herbs, spells, curses. Heck, even some magical beings could influence emotions.
Hector didn't stick around the apothecary for much longer. He had a conversation with the manager, who was a loyal member of the household, but recently the profit had been stagnant and from the looks of it, it ain't about due to the lack of customers.
He soon returned and ushered Victoire into the van, constantly talking about how fun the trip was going to be soon.
The next stop was the Library of Arcane Secrets, a magnificent repository of magical knowledge, where ancient tomes, spellbooks, and scrolls rest upon shelves that seem to stretch into infinity. And her 'infinity' thoughts were somewhat right too.
The library was enchanted with an ancient variation of traceless extension charm, such was the effect of the enchantment that the library automatically expanded or collapsed with regard to the number of readers inside.
Hector told her that the library was designed after the Ouroboros structure. A serpent eating its tail, a symbol of infinity and endless academic achievements. And similarly, the library went round and round till you were back at the starting point, One may feel like they have walked for several kilometers, and yet, only one circulation of the Library would be finished.
After the library came the infamous town square, hosting a bustling marketplace, where vendors from across the 'World' gather to showcase their enchanted wares, trade or barter magical items. Here, one can find enchanted artifacts, handcrafted magical trinkets, and whimsical creations crafted by skilled artisans from communities across the globe. The aroma of freshly brewed potions and the tantalizing scents of savory and sweet magical delicacies fill the air, enticing residents and visitors alike.
Beyond the town of Eldermoor, there lay a forest, a region where wonders from across the world were sent as a tribute to the sentient magical beings who inhabited that region. The Whispering Woods, a dense forest shrouded in mystic whispers, serves as a sanctuary for magical creatures, including unicorns, centaurs, and elusive fae folk.
Legend has it that the Elemental Springs of the fairy and fae are hidden deep amidst a secluded grove, emanating magical energies that provide rejuvenation, power, and healing to those who drink their ethereal waters. Of course, it could also be some loony pond where expired potions are dumped in and someone drank it and spread the story of the elemental pond.
Within this community, thrives an education bureau that rivals Ilvermorny itself, the renowned New England School of Magic and Sorcery, an esteemed institution tucked away in the foothills of a majestic mountain range. The school's sprawling campus blends seamlessly with its surroundings, incorporating natural elements and ancient stonework. Here, young witches and wizards receive comprehensive magical education.
This school is particularly famous for its teachings in various complex disciplines like potion brewing and divination. These are the two subjects that built the very foundation of this school.
A guide paid 5 galleons an hour by Hector, explained to her that throughout the year, the community comes together to celebrate the changing seasons and the unique traditions of New England.
The most famous Samhain Harvest Festival marks the bountiful autumn harvest, with feasts, magical displays, and communal rituals that pay homage to the region's agricultural heritage. This festival is known throughout the world for its wide variety of food and cuisine from all over the world are made during the month-long celebration.
Following the Samhain festival is the Midsummer Night's Revelry, held beneath the starlit sky, which is a joyous occasion filled with music, dance, and spellbinding fireworks that illuminate the enchanting landscape. This festival has a particular significance to young and old couples. Pairs from all over the world gather there to get one lucky chance to dance at the center of the town square and it is believed that whoever does dance at the town square, receives the blessing of a healthy relationship.
The Lefevre family had several other magical properties in the vicinity. The Mystic Wandcrafters: Enchanting Wands since 1692 was a shop opened by Hector's great-great-great grandfather. This was probably the oldest and the most profitable shop in the town.
Wizards all over the world used different mediums to channel their magic, the Japanese had their short staff with white ribbon-like material at the end of it, and some from the Middle East had a strange iron tong-like item. But when it came to diversity, the Indians won the crown, they had swords, shafts, a small water bucket-like thing that they used to spray spells out of, a flute, f-ing bows, and whatnot.
It gets too messy to keep track of who did what so the Eldermoor community specially hired the wand store to make wands for all these foreign merchant witches and wizards.
What can she say, business was booming.
The day was spent merely getting to know what all was there to see.
