Metanoia // George Ezra Fanfic

Life in Color

"Listen, how many times have I gotta tell you, the wand chooses the wizard. You can't just waltz into Ollivander's and request a specific wand." George says, three days after our hike at Lake Lurleen, where we kissed for the first time.

Molly swallows another bite of her soup and leans against the table in the break room, "I just don't get the appeal, then. Surely certain wand cores would have to be more powerful than others, so why wouldn't wizards request specific cores for their wands?"

Victor, who has already finished his lunch but is still on lunch break, shakes his head, "It's like what Harry says in The Deathly Hallows, Molly. He tells Ollivander that he talks about wands as if they have feelings."

"Wands do have feelings." George nods, joking, "The wands don't like you. My name is Ollivander, I speak for the wands, and the wands say you're stupid."

"The wands need some manners, then." Molly laughs.

I chuckle to myself, taking a drink from my water bottle. Lunch hour at Alabamafluent was simply an hour full of foolery and an opportunity for a debate between interns that were supposed to be professionals. Our break room is small, cramped and usually smells like burned popcorn. The mix between all those things is what makes it kind of perfect for a few kids about to graduate college. 

There's a knock on the door of the break room and Amos appears in the doorway, his face unreadable as always. I seriously would hate to play poker with the guy. 

"Everly," he addresses me in his usual dead voice, "When you're done with lunch, will you please join me in my office?"

I stare at him with wide eyes, but nod quickly, "Of course."

He nods once, then turns to leave the break room. 

I turn back to look at my fellow interns, not bothering to conceal the worry on my face. George's eyebrows are raised, and the scar is c shaped yet again. Molly is completely silent. Victor leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, speaking softly, "I'm sure you're fine, Everly. You've been doing an excellent job ever since you've arrived."

"I don't know." I mumble, chewing on my bottom lip, "Maybe Tyler complained about me one too many times."

"Tyler's a douchebag, but he's not that much of a douchebag." George shakes his head, his voice sounding deeper - even than normal.

I quickly clean up my lunch, leaving the others in the breakroom and hurrying to meet with Amos. Whatever he wanted, I wanted to get it over with. Not knowing was going to bother me more than anything. 

I knock firmly on his office door, and he responds quickly, "Come in."

Opening the door and stepping in, I find Amos sitting at his desk, which is immaculately neat, even with the stacks of paper that cover the top of it. He glances up at me when I enter and nods, "Oh, perfect, you're here already. Please, take a seat."

I sit down, nervously, trying to smooth out my blush, linen skirt. 

He takes a moment to finish glancing at a paper, and then peers at me over his glasses, "Well, Everly, I won't keep you in suspense, as I'm sure you would like to know why you're in my office."

"Yes, sir."

"Well," he sighs, setting down the papers in his hands, "your performance over the past several weeks has been positively notable. We've been reviewing your work ethic, and without a doubt, you are the most productive and effective intern, even going to the measure that you stand up to Tyler, who is one of our more difficult writers here. You're blunt and rational. Which is why we would like to extend a permanent, official job offer for you here after you graduate from school."