Coming to the graveyard had become somewhat of a ritual for Ophelia. It was the closest she felt to her parents given they were buried here. The witch came here so often that she saw many people she knew from time to time, they also had friends and family that were buried here. Funnily they had formed their own kind of community. She thought it was comforting, as strange as it sounded. Their grief never away, it was something constant. Ophelia always felt her parents were with her even if they were physically there. She felt especially close to them when the grief got to much for her and it swept over her.

Everyone processed grief differently, Ophelia never shared just how she did it. It was not something she wanted to share, not even with her sister. She never cried in front of Jacqueline, it was just something she did on her own. It was for her own private time. Of course with work keeping her busy, well, it was rather her own doing when it came to pushing herself to work on just one more wand. It wasn’t impacting on her health (too much) so she saw no harm. Instead she was more wanting to just have enough wands available when the new Hogwarts students came to Ollivander’s in a few weeks. She hadn’t served any yet but she thought they would come by soon. It was what kept her busy during the summer. Ophelia didn’t get much chance to go on holiday during the summer, instead, she had to wait for autumn.

She was planning a trip to Hungary and Austria when September rolled around. She could spend forever in those forests. THe colours and the trees were just beautiful. Being a wandmaker she got so much inspiration from nature. The witch was doing that in the graveyard. Even if this place was considered haunted, it was still beautiful, day or night. The witch was just walking past some trees as she looked up at their canopies not looking where her feet were landing on the ground. Her foot caught what was probably a tree root and she tripped. ”Bugger!” Ophelia exclaimed as she landed before she managed to sit up and began to examine her ankle. She tried to rotate it and felt a sharp pain and realised she had twisted it, she looked at her wrist, her left one which she had landed on and thought it was stinging with pain too. Looking around she saw no one. ”Just wonderful….” the witch sighed hoping someone came by soon.
 

One of the rather more morbid sides of smuggling was everything that had to do with necromancy. Sure, there were the odd books and jewels and artefacts that weren't completely gross and disgusting, but mostly? Søren had decided long ago that he would not, now or ever, be smuggling corpses. Never. That was just plain nauseating. He was a hitman and a smuggler but he didn't sell the bodies of people he'd just killed and he didn't rob graves, that was just disrespectful... okay, he did rob graves, but not recent ones! Old ones. A century at least. Give the corpse enough time to decay properly and not smell. Yeah, okay, was he a bit prickly about smells for someone who mostly dealt with animals? Yeah, sure, he was. No big deal, he made a profit anyway. No, this place didn't have anything worth stealing. Normal people's graves had nothing. It was just that being in a graveyard reminded him of things he'd rather not think of. Like hiding under an actual skeleton to not be noticed by guards in an old tomb. That had been an adventure and a half, he'd spent the next five hours bathing with Seline laughing at him- okay, no, don't think about her. That was just the worst idea ever.

So why was he in a cemetery in the first place? Meetings. It wasn't his fault some people felt like being dramatic, he hadn't picked the place. Apparently people thought that going to spooky places made them cool. There was nothing cool about ordering something while surrounded by corpses. They could just as well break into the morgue at St. Mungo's and send a request form for the beauty products of Witch Weekly. Which he read, yes. They had great hair tips. He was not ashamed to admit it. Plus, the quizzes were hilarious and he needed something fun to occupy himself with when he was watching the kids. Only Marisol tended to come and 'keep him company' while he was trying to read and wasn't that more than a little bit of torture? She was far too young, she had no business looking as pretty as she did. He had a job to do, okay. Maybe bringing the kids candy was sending the wrong message...

Lost in thought as he was, he still heard a sound of pain somewhere nearby. Frowning, he looked up from where his eyes had been fixed on the list he'd gotten. As if he could decipher that chicken scratch. He hadn't actually been reading the list, just staring. Still, he folded it and put it in his breast pocket and walked in the direction of the sound, only to find a young woman on the ground. Between the large trees, hidden away, it would've probably taken ages for her to be found. Then again, a strange man emerging from the woods was probably alarming, so he held his hands up innocently as he approached. "You alright, miss?" Sure, she was lovely, but she was sitting down there with what seemed to be a twisted ankle. That was more pressing business.

Ophelia never looked forward to coming to the graveyard but when she did she was at peace. It meant for a short while she was close to her parents and if she was the only one here it meant she was able to have alone time with them. She hoped that no one would think she was crazy if she was ever to tell someone that. That was the last thing she wanted. She had a reputation and if people thought she was crazy and if they knew where she worked they could very well think she was crazy and therefore be making improper wands. That was not true either, she was one to be making fine wands and ones that didn’t fail. The witch prided herself on being a perfectionist with wands. Not only did she take great care with her wands but she was constantly trying to improve her knowledge when it came to wandlore. There was no absolute when it came to what one could learn on the topic. Wandmakers around the world were always coming up with new ideas.

She thought that was a good thing given that they had to keep up with spell creators and they had to ensure that wand cores were capable with casting the spells that creators came up. At the end of the day, Ophelia just made sure her workmanship was up to par so that her wands never failed anyone. She was proud of her work and the fact that no one had come to her with what they claimed to be a ‘faulty’ wand yet. Truthfully she hoped she never encountered that. She didn’t want to bring disrepute on the Ollivander name, they had already been enough around the time that Garrick had disappeared many years ago. She had never asked him about that time, she would not dare to. It was a sensitive topic and Ophelia to could appreciate that. Plus, she saw no point delving into something of that nature. She was far too busy actually learning from him.

When she came to the graveyard Ophelia made sure that she watched where she stepped comma this was not the case this time, however. This, of course, resulted in her falling to the ground. Hearing someone approach Ophelia began to panic as anyone would. The witch hadn’t paid any attention to see if anyone was actually around. She looked up as a man approached her. Great, he was a handsome bloke too. Ophelia continued to curse herself in her head. It really was just her luck. Here she looked helpless and handsome bloke just happens to come out of the woods to approach her. It could have been a cliche plot to some muggle movie for all she knew but it was more important she tended to her ankle now. ”Oh...well, no. I wasn’t watching where I was going, tripped over that” she informed him pointing to the exposed tree root before looking over her wand, it seemed fine and she was very relieved. ”I don’t suppose you could help me, could you?” she asked a little nervously.

His newest client was in search of some rare bird from the desert regions of the middle east. It was pretty hard to find, though he was sure that if he couldn't track one down himself he would probably be able to find some local dealer that could either point him in the right direction or sell him one. He always preferred to catch his own, though, because then he could say for sure where it came from and what quality of animal it was. Such things were delicate businesses. Wild animals being caught and sold was a sad thing, he never gave them away to just anyone unless he knew that they were capable of taking care of it. Of providing space. It wasn't freedom, but the ones that were sold from breeders were always inbred and in bad health. He hated those animals, stunted and mistreated and they tended to die quickly and miserable. Still, that business was done. He would go and see what he could find and then perhaps come back with what was asked. If it could not be done, then it could not be done. All he had to do was find some way to take that many days off of working at Pyxis.

"Ah, well, these paths are treacherous sometimes." Smiling kindly, he stepped closer and extended a hand to help her up, but he halted when he saw the twisted foot. Oh, that was a nasty twist and he tutted as he kneeled closer. That looked a bit painful. He wasn't a healer of any kind, but he had some experience with fixing painful accidents. His own stab wound was one of the most minor things he had fixed over the years. "I think I may be able to do something about that. If you'll excuse me." Carefully, he reached forwards to bring her ankle closer to examine it better. It was just a simple twist of the tendons, thankfully not broken or ripped. Humming, he nodded. It tended to happen to Celine when walking over uneven ground the first few years of their relationship. She had adamantly refused to take off those blasted high heels to walk over rocks and sandy paths and ended up with many twisted ankles. She never learned, but he had taught himself to fix it because the only other choices were carrying her all the way to their destination over and over.

Drawing his wand slowly, he muttered a soft healing charm and the ankle snapped back in place. It made a nasty sound and he winced, it must have hurt a bit, but less painful than having the twisted ankle. Even so, she shouldn't walk on it yet, it would still be sensitive and somewhat fragile. So he let go of the ankle and smiled up at the young lady. "There, all set, but you shouldn't use it yet. It's tender, still." Offering both his hands for her to take, he stood to help her up. Søren smiled encouragingly. "My name is Søren, by the way. May I know yours?"

Accidents happened, hence their name. Ophelia was always cautious when she came out the cemetery but even she was susceptible to accidents. Before the bloke had turned up she had thought she would have been sat on the ground for a while. She knew how to repair an ankle but given that was her ankle there was no telling that she would aim the healing charm just where it had to go. This guy would have a better angle to cast the charm where it had to go. She of course was trying to not be freaked out given that he had just literally appears out of nowhere. But he was not a ghost given that he had a wand. Even if she was used to Vampires thanks to Killian, Ghosts were entirely different. Also since they happened to be in a cemetery the possibility of him being a ghost. But as it turned out he was, he was just a man who had come along at the right time and she was happy to see him. Ophelia was also happy to have him help her out with her injury.

”You can say that again” the witch chuckled nervously as she waited anxiously to see what the man would do. It was not lost on her that the man was handsome but it was far too cliche for a handsome stranger to just come to her rescue. Her ankle had never hurt like this before. She wasn’t sure if she had just twisted her ankle or something more severe, hopefully it wasn’t that bad but the the pain she was feeling told another story. ”Please go ahead” she answered him not minding him picking up her ankle and hopefully fixing it. She wasn’t sure if he was even a healer but right now she didn’t care. She just wanted her ankle fixed so she could finally leave the cemetery. She wasn’t spooked by her surrounds but she still didn’t want to linger here. She had much happier places she could be. It would be possible with her constantly assembling wands to get RSI but she miraculous had not experienced it. She was grateful for that. This, she was not so thankful for. At least if she needed to rest it, she could given that making wands could be done while standing up.

Ophelia watched as the man took out his wand and before she knew it a pain ripped up her leg making her wince and curse. Mierda!” She blushed and shook her head. ”Sorry, I don’t normally speak like that” she apologised, trying to excuse her poor choice of words but hoped he would understand. The witch looked up to him as he spoke of not using her ankle. ”Well, I’m not sure who I’m supposed for get out of here then….I mean you need to stand to apparate” she laughed nervously again before sighing.She smiled faintly as she daintily slipped both her hands into his and allowed him to pull her up. ”Nice to meet you Soren, I’m Ophelia” she smiled. ”What brings you to cemetery, are you visiting someone too?”

"There was a stranger  
passing by"

    Søren wasn't exactly a helpful person. Needless to say, when raised by a family that had built up a fortune on the smuggling and selling of illegal magical creatures, morality wasn't really a very prominent lesson. They were taught how to look after the animals, how to be loyal to their family, what to do when dealing with the authorities, and how to get out of a violent confrontation. Helping strange people one came across wasn't really in the Smuggler 101 handbook, but he thought he'd been doing a lot of weird things lately. From starting to work at Pyxis to helping that young Lady Mountbatten find her pendant in a nightclub, he'd been doing a lot of things out of a mindless thought of why not? Just like now. He was in no hurry, he lost nothing from it, and the young lady must have been in quite some pain and discomfort. It was no bother in his day and it helped make hers a little less bad. So, here he was, fixing an ankle and helping a stranger to her feet. As if it were normal. Well, it wouldn't be, but just this once he didn't think there was anything wrong with it.
    "Well, I'm sure I can help you out of the cemetery. If by then your foot isn't completely good as new I can accompany you to some making pub or café nearby so you may use their Floo." Giving her a polite smile, he offered an arm for her to lean on. Now that she was standing, it wouldn't really do for her to put all that much weight on her ankle until it felt fully recovered. The ground was uneven and really, it would be far faster if he carried her, but it was not an offer he was about to make. Coming up to wounded women in graveyard forests and offering to carry then was beyond terrifyingly creepy. He may not know much about appropriate behaviour, but he knew that wasn't it. "It's lovely to meet you as well, Ophelia."
    How to get out of that question without sounding like an arse? He was obviously not particularly sombre or moved, so saying he'd come here to see a relative or a friend was unlikely to be believed, despite that being exactly what Ophelia had asked. If he told her he was meeting a possible client here it would sound very insensitive and no matter if he clarified that the location had not been his idea, he would look like a jerk. Was he going to tell the truth? Absolutely not. "I was accompanying a friend, he wanted to visit his grandmother. Thought I might take a walk after he left, it's very peaceful here." 
    Gently and slowly, he started to guide her through the trees to the way out. He kept a close eye on the ground and on her feet, making sure her ankle didn't twist or move in any weird ways and that he wouldn't take her over any path that would hurt her more. "And yourself?"

@ ophelia - # # # - outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRPHY 2.0