Coral

If manners make the man as someone said

Then he's the hero of the day

It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile

Be yourself no matter what they say



Modesty, propriety can lead to notoriety

You could end up as the only one

Gentleness, sobriety are rare in this society

At night a candle's brighter than the sun

Takes more than combat gear to make a man

Takes more than license for a gun

Confront your enemies, avoid them when you can

A gentleman will walk but never run

If manners make the man as someone said

Then he's the hero of the day

It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile

Be yourself no matter what they say--Sting







--Crisp--







But sometimes, magic made life ever so much more interesting.



It was a Friday afternoon, not too long before the shop should close, and dusty autumnal light fell in through the grimy windows. Amanda had attempted to clean the glass, but had succeeded in only smearing the brownish dust into a solid film.



She was always intending to bring a cloth and some soap, and do it properly one day, but the joy of her impending motherhood had made her forgetful, and not nearly so particular. Besides, the light quality was vaguely flattering.



She thought that if the light were to make a sound, it would be that of a concertina, breathing in and out, in a tired consumptive fashion. The clouds were covering it and uncovering it, making her have to lean close to the ledgers to work the long colimns of figures growing in the margin.



This task was soothing. Seated high on the stool, her quillscratching, she could watch as Edward stacked and restacked the boxes, idling here, briskly climbing the ladders there. He had a habit of talking to the wands as he moved them around. Take the one and place it on top, the other on the other shelf; all with a certain empathy...as though he were listening to waht they desired.



As a person often chastised by teachers and parents for conversing with herself whenver she had something interesting to say, she was completely sympathetic to him, and to the wands.



The murmuring from behind the shelves was comforting; but beside her, on the counter, lay somehting that was not.



Beside her, Edwards measureing tape lay loosely coiled.



Amanda watched it from the corner of her eye.



It had slithered up there only a few minutes ago, and at a sharp glance had froze, reminding her too much of a cat watching a bird.



It had taken to pestering her whenever it could get away from Edward. She had told him once that it seemed to be chasing her, and he had called her claim silly. It was only charmed to take the measurements of the customers.



But the manner in which he said this alerted her to the distinct possiility that he might be teasing. In fact...she had never actually seen him read the measurements off the tape before. Either he had long ago learned to do everything by sight, or the tape was just a prop to make people nervous.



Casually, the tape inched closer, flattening itself out against the wood surface. Closer. It raised up hopefully. When she ignored it., it nudged her wrist. She continued to ignore it even when it raised half of it's length into the air, and sat swaying as idly as a charmed cobra.



The receipts were soon accounted for, and no more customers came in. The shop began to grow sleepy. Amanda took a book from her satchel, and began to read.



" Where is that owl?' Edward suddenly exclaimed, a few moments later.



Amanda looked up, startled.



" What owl is that?"



" My owl!' he stated, incredulously. " I haven't seen him in ages. I wonder did he die of old age? Or just get lost?"



She didn't know.



He scowled thoughtfully at the floor for a moment, then at the ceiling.



" Excuse me a moment!" he sat the last few boxes on the counter beside her, and began to hurry toward the staircase in back, that lead to a small storage room overhead. He was out of sight for perhaps three seconds before he popped his head back around the corner. " Watch the shop for me."



Then he was gone. Amanda blinked at the ceiling as well. He might be,at times, what her American schoolfellows would have called 'spacy', but at least she was seldom bored, and he seemed to be perfectly harmless.



He retunred after a few minutes, with a look of utter relief.



" He isn't up there, at least. " he announced, somberly. Then noticing the tape measure swaying in front of her, he snatched it by it's 'tail', and flipped it across the room.



"No more of that nonsense!" he told it. " Here, let me help you down...we're closing the shop a little early today."



" May I ask why?" she drawled slowly, as she let him set her own her feet.



" We have to go to London. To buy an owl."



" Tonight?" she asked, bewildered.



" Yes, of course." he stared at her as if she were not of this world. Didn't she know that they desperately needed an owl tongiht? " You have been writing letters. You said so yourself. Well, how are you going to send them?"



Amanda had asked herself the same question. However she had simply been prepared to wait for Eloise or Stella to send Snegourka.



" Here, put your cloak around, I wouldn't want you catching chill..." he said briskly, wrapping the garment around her even as he spoke.



" Could he be over the other shop?" she asked as he hurried her out the door. He paused to contempalte the possibility.



" Nope. Absolutely not. I remember now, exaclty what happened. He was lost at sea."



" Now, how did that happen?



" Lost in a gale I suppose. You can never tell. He might be living as we speak on a tropical island, feasting on bananas and small lizards. My unopened letter still chained to his left leg."



If she had learned anything thus far about this strange new world, it was that nothing was too ridiculous to be possible.



Diagon Alley was not as crowded as usual, and they could stroll along without being jostled too badly. The largest crowd was around Quality Quidditch Supplies, where a group of gawping children, and not a few adults, were admiring a broomstick that appeared to be floating in the glass display case.



Edward slowed his pace as well, and came to a stop a few paces away from the crowd.



" The handle is ash..." he said, almost to himself. " Superb craftsmanship, easy to manoeuver. practiclaly indestructable."



" Did you ever play Quidditch?" Amanda inquired.



He contemplated the broom a bit longer. She realized that she had seen no broom except for the very non-magicla utility broom, in his house. Eloise and Winter had an entire closet full, and claimed to have flown them occasionally on cloudy nights. She herself had never seen this.



" No..." he said at last. " Not Quidditch. It was another game, polo . Just like Muggle Polo, only on brooms. Now, that is a game. "



" Were you any good?" she asked flirtatiously.



He rubbed his face absentmindedly for a moment, remembering that long ago plummet.



" For awhile. But then then there was a bit of an accident." he smiled. " Let's move on, shall we?"



" Have you ever been to a polo game? " he asked, as they walked toward Eeylops Owl Emporium.



" No. I've never been to any sporting event."



" Perhaps I could arrange tickets to one. Quidditch, if you like."



" Oh, no...I think I would rather see the polo. Quidditch sounds a little too..." she waved her hand, trying to descibe how it sounded ot her.



" Yes, well, Quidditch is more popular due to the danger, I believe. The height...the bludgers, the speed. I'm afraid the polo isn't quite that exciting."



They had reached the door to the Owl emporium, and he opened it for her. The man behind the counter, obviously prepared to close for the evening, was surprised, and not very pelased, to see Ollivander, and Ollivander's new, young wife, coming in at such a late hour.



" We need an owl." Ollivander informed him gravely. " Not a white one."



The man gestured to the two remaining owls. One was an enormous Phillipine eagle owl, with exquisite plumage, a haughyt air, and a very handsome price tag.



The other was a spectacled owl. Pulsatrix perspicillata, his tag read. Amanda noted with amusement that this advertisement was not just

' whistlin' dixie ' ; the bird also sported a large pair of metal, horn-rimmed glasses, through which it's large yellow eyes peered at her critically.



" I'm sorry but we don't have but the two owls..." the man stated a little rudely "I'm expecting the new shipment on Wedneday, though. Why not wait until then?



Ollivander looked indignant at the suggestion.



" Absolutely not. I have come into this owl shop, to purchase an owl. And when I enter a shop to purchase soemthing, I always do just that." he stated dramatically.



Amanda stifled a small laugh, as he began pacing back and forth between the two bird, appraising first one, then the other. Hands clasped behind his back, head tilted to the side, he examined the beak of the Eagle owl, then the feet of the spectacled owl.



Amanda considered them as well. The Eagle owl was perfect. It had a large plump breast, wide spreading wings, and a glossy, healthy sheen.



The other owl however was skinny, and looked a bit on the skittish side. There was a bare ring around it's neck where a collar or something similar had rubbed away the feathers. The rest of it's plumage stuck out in all directions, as though it had been recently frazzled.



After about six or seven minutes of this, the clerk began to show his impatience in a non-tactful manner.



" Now, see here. It's bad enough we have to put up with them kids and all in here everyday. Either you buy an owl or you don't buy an owl. Which is going to be?"



" Sir, you simply do not rush decisions of this level of importance. I beleive the owner of this establishment would understand that, if I brought it to his attention."



The clerk huffed, but said nothing.



" Amanda, " Edward said, motioning for her to join him between the two perches." Now, tell me, which one do you favor?"



" Well...this one is the most attractive." she pointed to the eagle-owl. " But he is too big for me to manage. So...I think that one is more to my liking."



" My wife would like this owl." Edward informed the clerk.



" If you kow what's good for you, you won't take that one. He's a crazy brute."



When neither of the customers looked prepared to beleive him, he began to ring up the charge without humor.



" He is crazy. " he muttered, as he stuffed the bird into a cage. Amanda became aware of a rather acrid odor, that was not the natural smell of the birds.



" What is that smell?" she demanded.



" Oh, that's his feathers. He was shipped here from an owlery in Scotland that caught fire last month.Struck by lightening. He was nearly burnt to a crisp, and that's why he's not right, in the head."



He tried to hand the heavy cage to Amanda, but Edward intercepted it, giving her a look of warning. She colored slightly, having forgotten for a moment that he did not wish for her to be lifting anything.



They thanked the man, despite his mood, and left the shop, satisfied with their newest purchase.



Once they were home, Amanda let the owl out of the confining little cage, and fed him some leftover bread.



" He'll need a name, I suppose." she said, as he tottered around.



Polly held a hand over her nose.



" He smells just awful!"



" The man said he had almost burned in a fire. Burned to a crisp, so he said. I think we'll call him Crisp! If that's fine with you?" she turned to Edward.



He gave a monosyllabalic answer of approval as he held the empty cage as far from his person as was possible.



" We'll convert the balcony into a temporary owlery. I think the fresh air would be an improvement." he said grimly.



" At least!" Polly agreed.



After a few simple spells, he managed a nice domed covering, a large roosting pole, and a replenishing water fountain. Crisp seemed to approve. Later, Edward and Amanda stood admiring their new pet together.



" I wonder..." he mused after awhile." If they ever get tired of having to sleep standing up."



Amanda considered.



" Not just standing," she said. " But sleeping while balancing on a twig, at that."



" May I never be reincarnated as bird." he said, placing an arm around her waist and leading her back indoors.



" Do you beleive in reincarnation?" she asked, surprised.



" Of course! Don't you?"



" I think so...but I've enver met anyone else who would even imagine it."



" I don't have to imagine it. I know for a fact that I have been reincarnated twice, at least."



" Who were you before?" she asked.



" Well, that 's a very personal question." he replied with mock terseness. " I was hinkypunk. It's not a pretty lfe, I don't recommend it. "



" What was the second time?"



" Now that is too personal to tell on such short acquaintance. " He said mysteriously. " Perhaps if you ask in ten years. "



They had at least learned that they had one more thing in common, and as the nights grew steadily cooler, it gave them something to debate in front of the fire, or over the chess board, where she had still never managed to triumph, but nearly always succeeded in making him laugh.





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Englishman in New York-Lyrics, Sting