Samuel Sykes
Well-Known Member
- Messages
- 649
Samuel dropped his last suitcase onto the floor of the apartment with a heavy sigh. All he owned in the world was currently packed into two trunks, three suitcases and a carry-on bag, all heavily laden with spells shrinking furniture to fit into the cases. Sam couldn't even contemplate the beginning of his unpacking process, and so settled for slumping back onto the long sofa that was one of the few items that came with the studio. It wasn't the grandest of homes, but it was his. For the first time, he truly owned something that hadn't belonged to someone else beforehand, and it was something that he'd worked very hard to achieve.
Paris was an odd choice for a young Australian man fresh out of a Hogwarts education, but work for potions masters was plentiful in the wizarding sections of the city. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the more delicate-physiqued Europeans, but Sam was a sore thumb just about anywhere. At six feet and five inches, a shy man like himself could not hide in a crowd and he was finding Paris terrifyingly beautiful. The women, too, he had to admit, were beautiful in an almost ethereal sense. He hoped this was natural and not a product of glamours or charms from the witches who caught his eye; nothing was more disappointing than sweet ladies who thought that they had to hide their true faces in order to be noticed. It was becoming a common thing, nowadays, to drop a Shimmer potion into one's morning tea before heading out, adding a somewhat unbelievable glow to one's face.
The intercom buzzed before Sam had a chance to get comfortable. He sighed aloud and began the trek downstairs to pick up whatever item he'd ordered but forgotten about. Hopefully it was his potions stand so he could begin setting up the vials and jarred ingredients, but Sam did not make it as far as he'd hoped to.
The building that he now occupied was in the city's outer north, close to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. He'd noticed a few young women in blue uniforms heading up to their own studios, which brought him to the conclusion that it was a popular area for families to house their girls while they were in school. A few of them had tried to strike up a conversation as he'd hauled his trunks up the long flights of stairs (conveniently forgetting his ability to levitate items like a normal wizard), but Sam had simply blushed and kept walking, to the amusement of the young ladies. There was no such luck in avoiding embarrassing himself this time. Samuel's hall cupboard had arrived, fully assembled and completely blocking the third corridor where the halls grew thinner while the transport wizards argued and prodded the object around.
"Hang on, hang on!" Sam called out as he took off at a jog down the hall to where the blockage was. "What's all this, then?"
"We've gotten it this far, sir," said a worker in the muffled voice from behind the cupboard. "But it looks like the fancy work at the top is sticking into the plasterboard."
"Why don't you shrink it down?" asked Sam, gentle but exasperated. The light pine cupboard squeaked as it was shifted heavily from behind, and there were some quiet mumbles between the workmen.
"Well," admitted one finally, "We can't. Those charms you had placed on it for extra storage will probably collapse it if we try to shrink it down. Not collapse it in the portable sense of the word, but more, er, reduce it to curlings." he explained.
The look on Sam's face would have been spectacular to behold had anyone been able to see him behind the bulk of the cupboard. Immediately, his problem-solver's brain went into action, and the potioneer told the workmen to wait while he fetched an extra curricular Charms manual.
"Okay, so a regular shrinking charm is going to ruin the cupboard ... how about and irregular charm?" he muttered out loud as he made his way back up the stairs to retrieve it. To his horror, an attractive witch was headed into the opposite direction to him and was soon going to encounter his unintentional road block. Sam blushed heavily, screwing up the courage to speak.
"Um ... madame? Sorry to bother you, but ... " said Samuel, growing quieter with chagrin. "Just up ahead. It's, er, stuck. The cupboard, that is. My cupboard." He struggled to explain. "That is to say, mon placard is ... oh sorry, do you speak English? Parlez-vous anglais?" What a nightmare.
Paris was an odd choice for a young Australian man fresh out of a Hogwarts education, but work for potions masters was plentiful in the wizarding sections of the city. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the more delicate-physiqued Europeans, but Sam was a sore thumb just about anywhere. At six feet and five inches, a shy man like himself could not hide in a crowd and he was finding Paris terrifyingly beautiful. The women, too, he had to admit, were beautiful in an almost ethereal sense. He hoped this was natural and not a product of glamours or charms from the witches who caught his eye; nothing was more disappointing than sweet ladies who thought that they had to hide their true faces in order to be noticed. It was becoming a common thing, nowadays, to drop a Shimmer potion into one's morning tea before heading out, adding a somewhat unbelievable glow to one's face.
The intercom buzzed before Sam had a chance to get comfortable. He sighed aloud and began the trek downstairs to pick up whatever item he'd ordered but forgotten about. Hopefully it was his potions stand so he could begin setting up the vials and jarred ingredients, but Sam did not make it as far as he'd hoped to.
The building that he now occupied was in the city's outer north, close to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. He'd noticed a few young women in blue uniforms heading up to their own studios, which brought him to the conclusion that it was a popular area for families to house their girls while they were in school. A few of them had tried to strike up a conversation as he'd hauled his trunks up the long flights of stairs (conveniently forgetting his ability to levitate items like a normal wizard), but Sam had simply blushed and kept walking, to the amusement of the young ladies. There was no such luck in avoiding embarrassing himself this time. Samuel's hall cupboard had arrived, fully assembled and completely blocking the third corridor where the halls grew thinner while the transport wizards argued and prodded the object around.
"Hang on, hang on!" Sam called out as he took off at a jog down the hall to where the blockage was. "What's all this, then?"
"We've gotten it this far, sir," said a worker in the muffled voice from behind the cupboard. "But it looks like the fancy work at the top is sticking into the plasterboard."
"Why don't you shrink it down?" asked Sam, gentle but exasperated. The light pine cupboard squeaked as it was shifted heavily from behind, and there were some quiet mumbles between the workmen.
"Well," admitted one finally, "We can't. Those charms you had placed on it for extra storage will probably collapse it if we try to shrink it down. Not collapse it in the portable sense of the word, but more, er, reduce it to curlings." he explained.
The look on Sam's face would have been spectacular to behold had anyone been able to see him behind the bulk of the cupboard. Immediately, his problem-solver's brain went into action, and the potioneer told the workmen to wait while he fetched an extra curricular Charms manual.
"Okay, so a regular shrinking charm is going to ruin the cupboard ... how about and irregular charm?" he muttered out loud as he made his way back up the stairs to retrieve it. To his horror, an attractive witch was headed into the opposite direction to him and was soon going to encounter his unintentional road block. Sam blushed heavily, screwing up the courage to speak.
"Um ... madame? Sorry to bother you, but ... " said Samuel, growing quieter with chagrin. "Just up ahead. It's, er, stuck. The cupboard, that is. My cupboard." He struggled to explain. "That is to say, mon placard is ... oh sorry, do you speak English? Parlez-vous anglais?" What a nightmare.