thaumobabble | extradimensional space

Here is a house.

It is pretty and trim and green-and-cream and really ought not to be able to hold itself up like that, and yet here it is, somehow defying the laws of architecture. It is surrounded by a neatly bordered garden of ornamental and useful plants of all sorts: here vegetables, there herbs, there spell components, there rows of flowers.

There is a sign out front. It says only: Magic. Not, Beware, Magic or Magic Emporium or anything like that. Just: Magic.

Sitting on top of this sign is a cream cat with smoke-dark points of color on each paw, his ears, and his face and tail.

All in all, you could be forgiven for thinking that a witch lives here.

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From:

thaumobabble

"All right then," says Bella cheerily, and she settles in to work.

She wears her spectacles the entire time, flicking occasionally between lenses, and performs an eclectic series of procedures, occasionally swearing at the staff under her breath. At one point she produces what looks like a piece of another wizard staff and waves it in a detailed pattern through the air. Something that makes her sneeze convulsively is involved a bit later on.

Finally, about two hours later, she whips out a few yards of red cloth, wraps the wizard staff in it, and stuffs it lengthwise into her right sleeve. "All right!"

From:

calendarofcrime

"Excellent. Shall we continue?"

From:

thaumobabble

"I do believe we shall."

From:

calendarofcrime

Sherlock continues to lead them, then.

From:

thaumobabble

"So," says Bella, "has soapy lemon water stopped working, then? I keep expecting them to find a way around that; perhaps they finally have."

From:

calendarofcrime

"A bucket of soapy water with lemon is useful only against things in need of a good scrub," she says, "of which wizards are by far the most threatening. A sword protects against more dangers and is less awkward to carry."