Chapter 52 - Occupied by Another

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I walked down all those steps just to reach a bust of Ignatia with Floo Powder, my school bag still around my shoulders. 

"You can't IMAGINE ho-"

The hell with it. 

Green swirls sucked me into a pence size hole and before I knew it, my feet planted in the Nothern South Sea Bog. 

It was late, and the sky was black. The streets were noticeably more empty, 

I pulled a jacket out of my bag and hastily put it on, flipping the collars upwards to hide myself from the sharp night wind. 

I walked down the cobbled road, empty of any living souls, till I saw the warm light of a vendor wagon. 

I walked up and looked over the baskets of Mallowsweet leaves, potions, and mandrakes. 

A twisted black wooded broom was suspended from the propped-up shop wall. 

"The Family Antique," Priya Treadwell took notice of my starring. "They do not make them like this anymore."

"What would it fare?" I asked looking at the clustered black bristles wrapped tightly with tethered red ribbon.

"100 galleons and 6 knuts."

"Pff," I pushed out of my teeth, shaking my head. 

"They do not make them like this anymore," Priya repeated with a smile, unbothered from my reaction, looking at the broom proudly. "It bonds to its rider."

"I would do it a great disservice to separate that bond then," I quipped, not willing to purchase anything for that big of a price tag. 

"Sadly there is no such risk. It's last rider, my sister, is no longer with the living," Priya Treadwell spoke with a matter-of-fact tone as if discussing any other deceased acquaintance. 

"My condolences," I apologised, regretting the tone of voice I had spoken with her. 

"You remind me much of her. Determined, sceptical and distrusting," she smiled still looking at the broom, her eyes blurred as tender memories flowed through her. 

"Th-thank you?" I managed to say, not sure it was meant to be a compliment. 

"It wasn't a compliment," Priya looked to me with the same smile. 

Well that answered that. 

"I loved my sister. But it was difficult to live with her intensity. The same intensity that in the end shortened her life," her eyes glimmered with sorrow, the glimmer I intimately knew to be regarding loss of one's own blood. 

I cleared my throat not knowing what to really say. I looked back at the broom. 

It was not by any means beautiful. It was haunting, yet I did faintly feel kindred to it. 

"I'll tell you what. I'll offer it for you for 80 galleons and 20 sickles. It's dear to me and I will only hand it to a buyer who I feel is worthy of it. For the broom's sake and for Aditi's."

I sighed. I could not believe I was going to spend this amount of money on a new broom. 

I finally hesitantly nodded. 

I needed a new broom.

"You won't be disappointed, I can promise you that," Priya Treadwell's voice sang as I reluctantly went for my coin purse. 

She rose her wand and the broom slowly levitated to us. 

"There dear girl," Priya beckoned me to reach for it. 

A Man Has Horns  // Sebastian SallowWhere stories live. Discover now