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The more that Fynley looked around the shop, the weirder it seemed to get. Nothing was complete, objects were broken and clothes were holey and used. He understood that maybe there were people in the Wizarding community who weren’t able to afford brand new but surely there were other ways to buy what they needed that wasn’t as gross as some of this stuff was?
And anyway, couldn’t magic fix all this?
Still, it hadn’t stopped Fynn from entering the shop and it wasn’t going to stop him from buying his textbooks if he needed them. The book he was flicking through at that second had pages torn out from it but he figured that the missing spells couldn’t have been that important and therefore was worth the very little money he was about to spend on it. What the point in spending a fortune on books when you could use that money for other things was beyond the fifteen year old. Being curious about the shop had also brought him face-to-face with a potential future classmate and being the friendly guy who had been thrown into the deep end and had to be the new boy again meant that he was going to take an social interaction he could before the term started again. “That would make my life so much easier.” Everyone needed a personal companion who could tell them all the answers they needed. He wouldn’t have to charm the answers out of his compatriots anymore.
The question took him off guard slightly but he didn’t take offence to it at all. He supposed that his accent had become a weird concoction of both his parents and he was able to disguise it to match one or the other dependent on who he was talking to. “Kind of?” he answered vaguely. “I was born here to an English mum and an American dad. We moved to the US when I was ten so I’ve been going to Ilvermorny up until now.” So he was technically both nationalities. Which one he preferred he hadn’t actually made a decision about yet.
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