August 13th, 1889 — High Street, Hogsmeade
Sloane Bixby
Sloane Bixby
After spending an entire summer in a magical household, Cammie was, for some reason, surprised that his life hadn't become an extension of Hogwarts. He was still forbidden to use his wand, had nothing solid to study until his supply list came in the mail, and spent much of his time doing exactly what he used to. The only difference was the occasional trip to Hogsmeade and magical London, and, more frequently, the trips to the quidditch pitch to watch a match.
Today, though, was not one of those occasional trips that took place to simply get the kids (minus poor Greta) out of the house; it was Hogwarts shopping day, and Cameron's excitement could not be contained. Suddenly he was around other wizards in witches his age once again, in a crowded city, with the newest supplies on display in every shop window.
Somewhere along the way, Cameron had found himself in front of Gladrags, his step-father and step-siblings no where in sight. He needed new robes desperately, having shot up a number of inches since he'd begun his third year. Never again would be let his robes touch the middle of his calf like he had during second year—especially now that each growth spurt became more intense than the last.
He moved to enter the shop, but was stopped—not by a barrier, but by the sight of a familiar face. A friendly face. A pretty face. He pushed the thought from his mind like he'd tasted something disgusting, but nevertheless found his eyes stuck on Sloane's face as she exited the shop.
"How is it that you look both older and shorter this year?," he teased, crossing his arms across his chest. "Or did you make yourself look shorter to get one of the first-year bundles?"
Today, though, was not one of those occasional trips that took place to simply get the kids (minus poor Greta) out of the house; it was Hogwarts shopping day, and Cameron's excitement could not be contained. Suddenly he was around other wizards in witches his age once again, in a crowded city, with the newest supplies on display in every shop window.
Somewhere along the way, Cameron had found himself in front of Gladrags, his step-father and step-siblings no where in sight. He needed new robes desperately, having shot up a number of inches since he'd begun his third year. Never again would be let his robes touch the middle of his calf like he had during second year—especially now that each growth spurt became more intense than the last.
He moved to enter the shop, but was stopped—not by a barrier, but by the sight of a familiar face. A friendly face. A pretty face. He pushed the thought from his mind like he'd tasted something disgusting, but nevertheless found his eyes stuck on Sloane's face as she exited the shop.
"How is it that you look both older and shorter this year?," he teased, crossing his arms across his chest. "Or did you make yourself look shorter to get one of the first-year bundles?"
