My family has been present at Elsewhere University for three generations: this requires quite a bit of college prep to prevent shenanigans. My parents spent almost every summer vacation of my childhood teaching me how to work the deals in my favor, the traditional methods of protection, and the things they had discovered during their own time at college.
But more importantly; they taught me magic, they taught me about family, and they taught me how to turn a profit from the muggles.
Walking to the little out building that has been settled in the middle of college dorms since my grandmothers time, I grip my hagstone necklace and the wards come crashing down. Pendants that send the eye wandering, keep the mind distant, and drive off the curious: all of them crack and turn to dust. I’ll have to reset them before the end of my senior year, but that’s a worry for later. And it’s not like those were the only pendants, or even the biggest protections.
The building is made of red bricks and black roof tiles. The doorway is a large arch covered by a silken curtain, it almost looks like a wide open mouth. Rowan trees sprout to either side of the doorway, their red berries waiting to be harvested. My parents always said that Rowan had special meaning to our family.
Rowans are good for travelling.
I part the drapes and walk in to the shop, paying no mind to the disembodied wind chimes that show I am human.
I do jump when a shimmering woman of white-yellow light bursts into being right in front of me, though.
“Gah, Elaina!” I shout, grasping at my chest.
“Hmm, you always were a bit jumpy,” she smirks, tossing her bouncing curls behind her.
“Well maybe I wouldn’t be if you guys hadn’t been spent my entire childhood trying to give me a heart attack,” I say, putting my hair back into place.
“Come now, don’t be so dramatic. Your great-great-uncle had three heart attacks, and look where he ended up,” she says.
“Wasn’t he executed?” I point out. I decide not to mention the reason.
“Entirely unrelated,” she says, entirely to primly for someone speaking about a man who’d been found fooling around with the governor’s daughter and her dog. “Now, on to business. Ready to set up shop?”
“Of course Grandmother.”
That week, a poster is stapled to every notice board, telephone pole, and amicable tree on the campus.
“Need some help with love? Need a little bit of protection? Want a genie’s wish without the genie?
Come to La Tienda Magia, home of the Longwitches!
Hours: 10am to 6pm on weekdays
11am to 5pm on the weekend
Location: East side of the dorm quad
Please note that for poorer students, barter is permitted, and even encouraged.”
((OOC: If you’d like to visit La Tienda Magia shoot me an ask or reblog this))