Deeply Thought [Alex]

[Ulysses Holland]

---

"Careful with that please, Georgie, you lunk..." Roger glanced up at one of his new stockboys with a flash of irritation, his fist still moving across the parchment on his clipboard scratching his ledger across the page. Roger loathed the Hewlett twins; they were useless in every way that served Borgin & Burke's. Their usefulness in other ways was the only thing keeping them employed at the moment, but that might even change depending on how their artifacts made it through stock day. Usefulness be damned. Klaus be damned. 

THNK. Roger huffed, his nib snapping as he jumped with the sound of one of their precious artifacts hitting the oak table too hard. They were all precious: Borgin & Burke's did not stock inferior magical objects. Whatever it was Georgie had just bumped, if it was harmed he bought it. "Georgie..."

"Mr. Bradford?" Jerry tapped the shopkeeper on the shoulder, staring down at him with his mouth slacked open. It was this look the twins shared above all that irritated Roger; their mouths were always, always open. Revealing an unfortunate broken piano of teeth. He wanted to hex their mouths shut permanently. "The pensieve's set up in the private viewing room, sir. For your meeting."

"Oh." Roger arched a surprised brow, his quill curling in his hand. One of them had done something useful, for once. "Excellent. Thank you Jerry, please show our guest into the viewing room when they arrive." It had been an anonymous buyer: this was a service Borgin & Burke's provided to some clients if they were willing to pay a certain nominal fee. Hewlett nodded and turned away. Roger watched him closely, making sure he didn't disturb anything in the store as his brother dropped another box on the table with an unceremonious WHUMP.

[Alecsander]

Soon a thing, short man was shown into the room. He gave a disgusted look to the back of the retreating Jerry. Really. Must there be so much drool? He shuddered, straightening out his collar and cuffs as if that would clear his mind of the disgusting memory. He occupied his time looking around the room, then inspecting the pensieve standing in the middle. He was tracing the runes on the stone bowl with a finger when the shopkeeper finally entered the room.

"Good afternoon." He looked down his thin nose, but failed to mention how rude he thought it when shopkeepers played this game. Being late was a common tactic, after all. And he prided himself on doing the best he could for his clients, and antagonizing the shopkeepers did not help his clients.

"It seems to be in good enough condition." He began, tapping his fingers on a few of the stones. He'd already checked the runes, what he needed to do next was test the gems, if they were fakes the pensieve would not work properly, if at all.