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Quidditch and Love by Ivona Queens

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A/N: This takes place the same day as "The Tryouts"

I woke up, expecting a lazy day. It was only a week from Christmas, yes, but most people had hurried up and ordered their hand-made jewelry from my shop ahead of time. I almost never had orders this close to Christmas. I stretched, and went to my bedroom window. I saw very few people walking up and down the streets of Hogsmeade. The cold wind blew, and I could see my shop sign swinging in the wind, reading:


MADAM RICAMATO'S FINE HANDMADE JEWELRY


Today was bitterly cold, I noticed as I pulled my bathrobe around me tightly and shivered. People with sense - that being most of Hogsmeade - were indoors today, waiting for the chilling wind to pass. Yes, I expected today to be a lazy day filled with reading and waiting for customers.

However, today was going to be a different story. As I was eating my breakfast (coffee, bacon and eggs to get my day started), I heard a tap, tap, tap on my kitchen window. I opened it, and a burst of feathers flew into the room and landed on my table. It was a short eared owl with a letter tied to its foot. I quickly untied and read the letter while the owl poked at my meal.

After reading the letter, I felt a quiver in my hands. I've never made something like that before. I've made unicorns and pixies and a phoenix once, but never have I made a...

My thoughts were interrupted by yet another owl. I was a little confused - it was uncommon for two owls to come at nearly the same time, unless they were coming from the same starting point. This time, it was a snowy owl, and a bit more calm than the last one, which was now zooming around my kitchen. I scanned the letter and nearly fainted. It was rare enough to get an order at this time of year, but to get two of the same animal...

My fingertips twitched in excitement, and I knew this was going to be a masterpiece. When I first started to make jewelry, I had excitement in my fingertips nearly every time. Now, after twenty years, the excitement had faded as a result of customers asking for hearts, ovals or rectangles instead of exciting, challenging pieces of art, as as I liked to call my jewelry. I quickly began to mentally plan what the piece would look like. Without even bothering to brush my hair or change from my bathrobe to my work robes, I ran downstairs from my apartment to my shop below, sat down at my work table, and began to sketch out designs. I read and re-read the letter, but it didn't say anything specific. Onyx, with diamond eyes, about the width of a bottle of ink. I loved unspecific letters. It left room for creativity, for the true artist to flourish and magic to work its ways. Jewelry making wasn't a profession where you could simply wave your wand and boom! the jewelry is ready. This was a job for hands and for the true joy of working to emerge.

I was working rapidly and was nearly ready to start setting the stones in when I heard my shop door bell ring.

Completely forgetting that I was still in my morning attire, I ran out to assist them, and usher them away as quickly as possible.

"Good afternoon. How may I help you?" I asked, brushing back a gray-streaked lock behind my ear. The young adult, about 20 or 21, looked back at me in utter shock.

"I'd...I'd like to look at some of your earrings." he managed to stutter.

"Gold or silver?" I asked.

"Gold."

I motioned to the right side of a glass case and impatiently waited for the boy to make his decision. I desperately wanted to get back to the piece that I was making. There was a strange pull in my fingers, as if they were attempting to pull me back to my work desk. Finally, the youth made his decision and paid for the gold earrings. I was so excited to get back to the workroom that I didn't notice that I gave him five more sickles in change than intended. As soon as I saw him walk out the door, I whisked away once again to my desk. After furiously working for two more hours, painstakingly setting the stones in place, I was finished. I held it in my palm, and watched as it caught the light. I held my breath in awe. I had made some gorgeous pieces in the past, but this one topped it all. I carefully, lovingly, put it in the corner of my desk. Now...to start on the next one...

This one was more complicated than the last. Yellow, with red eyes, the letter instructed, in a walking position. I worked on this one until the candle on my desk started to drip wax. Careful not to stain my art, I blew that one out and lit another candle. When I was finally finished, I sent wrote out separate letters explaining how much the pieces cost. I saved the letters and waiting until morning to walk down to the post office and send them. Realizing that I didn't know where my customer was located, I searched the front side of the letters. It wasn't until I turned them over that I realized that on both of them, there was a postscript:

P.S.: Please send to Hogwarts, Gryffindor Table

Hogwarts? I thought, I smile curling at my lips. Ahhh...I realized. It's young love - about to blossom.