Post by Jacquelyn Cartel on Oct 26, 2008 21:28:01 GMT 8
open.
Saturdays were the busiest time of the school year for the shop owners and shopkeepers in Hogsmeade Village. Flocks of students would come to the village and go to nearly all of the shops there. Most residents chose to handle their business on Monday through Friday, and then on Sunday if necessary. Many shopkeepers refused to work on Saturday. Jacquelyn was one of those shopkeepers who had chosen not to work on Saturdays. It wasn't because she didn't want to work, though. She worked every other day aside from Saturday--Monday through Friday, then again on Sunday, unless it was a holiday like Christmas. Saturday was the only day she could really get out, meet new people, and have some fun.
She probably would have taken Sunday off rather than Saturday, but she wanted to meet the students who attended the magical school. She had not had a chance to really meet any of them, mostly because she had just started working at the Three Broomsticks and because she had other things to do on her off-day. Her parents wanted her to visit, or she had to take up her internship, but she had managed to get Saturday off from that, too, unless it was absolutely impossible. With the gain in workers at the Three Broomsticks, Jacquelyn found herself with a set number of hours a week, rather than a spring of extra hours because no one was put on the night shift or the morning shift. She didn't mind though. She loved working, regardless of how slow some days seemed to be, but she didn't mind having some time off. It meant that she could get more time to herself and more hours to put in at the Ministry for her internship. Hopefully that internship would be worthwhile sooner or later, because she didn't want to be a shopkeeper/waitress for the rest of her life. And her parents didn't want her to, either.
When the sun rose into the sky Saturday morning, Jacquelyn was already wide awake and ready to go. She had always been one to rise before the sun and go to bed at decent hours. On rare occasions only would she stay away past nine or ten at night and wake up at seven or eight--that was any day, not just her off-day. The early bird catches the worm, she always said to people. She believed that people got more if they woke up early; their reward was far greater, because most people remained in bed when they didn't have to be awake. And then there were procrastinators, who waited until the last minute to get things done. That was not Jacquelyn by any stretch, and she was proud of herself for being the way she was.
As the sun rose more and more into the sky, Jacquelyn could see from her window the lights of the surrounding shops filtering into the barely lit cobblestone path. Many of the shop owners and shopkeepers were preparing for the early arrival of students that morning. Jacquelyn was, too, but she wasn't working. It was Saturday, after all. She was not preparing to serve these students, but to meet them and get to know some of them--probably the older ones since they'd probably be more on her level. Regardless of who she met, though, she was sure they'd be nice and civil with her, and willing to talk. At least that's what she hoped and wished.
Sometimes she wasn't the easiest person with whom to get along. People found that her constant happiness and optimism was a bit annoying; she even did at times, but there was nothing she could do to change the way she was. She had tried before, but it made her more irritable than she tended to be, and far more strange than she already was. It made her seem stuck-up and snotty, like her parents, which she was not. Her parents, both pureblood, had not been stuck-up some years ago, before they had had their children. Now that they had high-paying jobs and five kids, they were snotty and stuck-up. The blonde woman had trouble trying to figure out how both of them had been in Hufflepuff while at school. The thought of her parents' attitudes changing over the period of more than twenty years bothered her. Would she be the same way? Would she become snotty and stuck-up like them? She desperately wished not.
Most people looked at stereotypes and oftentimes compared her to them, her parents in particular. Her parents weren't poor people by any stretch; neither was Jacquelyn. She got a decent amount of money on her own--nothing like her parents, but it was something. Her parents, to help her out, or rather, make sure she had every single thing she wanted, gave her a large sum of money each month. She spent a lot of it on clothes and some on food; she usually used her own money to buy her food and pay random expenses that she had each month, or week. Though appreciative of her parents' money and their willingness to make sure she had enough money to buy anything and everything she could have wanted, she did not like the fact that they were spoiling her in such a way. She was a pureblood, she had rich parents. They wanted her to be perceived as such. This bothered her, because she felt like they were pushing her into something she didn't want. But she couldn't find enough courage to tell them no when they handed her money. It was a weakness of hers: She couldn't go against anything her parents said or did or gave. It was just part of who she was. She respected them and appreciated them; they had, after all, given her life and raised her to be who she was, for which she was grateful. That was just a rule of hers, as well as a commandment in the Bible: Honor thy mother and thy father. And that did she.
By the time all of the shops were lit up and ready to serve those early birds and students who would be in before long, Jacquelyn Cartel had already managed to get dressed and prepare herself for departure from her small, one-bedroom cottage at the far end of Hogsmeade, near Madam Puddifoot's, which was a while away from the Three Broomsticks. It was quiet there, almost secluded since most students stayed away. That was probably a good thing, though, since not all students, and people in general, were honest and trustworthy. That was really a shame, Jacquelyn thought, that all people had flaws and that most people could not be trusted.
The young blonde had dressed herself this morning in fairly pale colors, whites, pinks, and grays. She wore a calf-length skirt that rested at her hips nicely and a matching, plain shirt. Her shoes were not heeled today, but flat, and added not height to her simple five feet and four inches. Her attire was somewhat dressy, probably too dressy for a Saturday walk through Hogsmeade, but it was also casual and a bit professional, even though she had no purpose for dressing as such. She had a lot of dress clothes and owned very few pairs of jeans or shorts. She liked looking nice everyday, which was why she had so many clothes and so many shoes.
She had not bothered to do anything with her hair that morning, which was a bit unusual. Usually she pulled her hair back in seemingly complicated and extravagant styles that made people envy her and her hair. Today, though, she had let her blonde hair fall over her shoulders and about a fourth of the way down her back. It wasn't perfectly straight this morning, but there was some wave to it, which didn't bother her. The only thing she had done with her hair was brush it and make sure it wasn't all over the place. Once that was done, she had left her small cottage and locked it before walking across the street to Madam Puddifoot's.
She did this each morning, even on work days. She would walk across the street and talk to whoever was in the small tea shop in the morning. It was usually Madam Puddifoot herself, and the two of them would sit and chat before business got too busy. Jacquelyn would drink a nice cup of tea with her before heading down to the Three Broomsticks, which was exactly what she did that morning. The two of them sat, talked, and had their tea. This morning, though, Jacquelyn sat and talked with her for about an hour or two until people started showing up and making business with the various shopkeepers. It was then that she departed and went down to the Three Broomsticks.
Busy already, she thought as she approached the small pub. She blinked some and peered through the glass window. There were two people in there. Saturdays when students showed up usually needed three or four. Now Jacquelyn had to make a choice: Should she go in there and risk having to work, or should she just go on her way? With a sigh, she walked into the pub, which caused a bell to sound above her head. She had forgotten about that. Now they'd know someone was there, look at the door, and realize that she could work.
It surprised her though. The owner hadn't asked her to work or even help them out. This pleased her, especially since she didn't want to work that morning. She was trying to enjoy her day and spend the time she had off, well, off.
"Hey, Jac, what are you doing here? You don't have to work today," one of the shopkeepers, Jake, had said to her.
"I know. I just came in to see how it was going. Maybe grab a drink or two--you know, the usual." He nodded his head in response to her and went on his way, serving people.
It was then that she found herself a seat at the bar, right beside some other person. She lifted herself onto the stool and made herself comfortable. She then requested a drink from Rosemerta, who was actually surprised to see her there that morning. Nonetheless, she got the young blonde woman her drink and went back to serving other people. Jacquelyn just sat there and sipped lightly at her butterbeer, one of her favorite beverages, and glanced around the pub in search of someone with whom she could talk. Usually she didn't seem so shy about talking, but this was different. These were students, people a few years younger than herself. She wasn't sure they'd like her talking to them. So she sighed and just sat there. Maybe someone would come and talk to her instead.
