It was a proud feeling, being a father. His eldest, Laura, had finished school in June, and after months of celebration with friends and her small family, she had decided to go ahead and get the "Zimmerman World Tour" done with early. It was tradition that a Zimmerman child, when they were finished with shooling, went to each of the outstretched shops around the world to pick up the idiosyncracies of the work, essentially playing apprentice to countless cousins and aunts and uncles, learning the nuances of different cultures. If anything in particular struck their fancy, they would then start a tutelage at the original Zimmerman's -- now a very big, very successful retail warehouse not far from Dublin -- and learn the trade before specialising in whichever country they wished. This way, the tradition remained, as did their home country's culture, but then they could learn from others as well. Hanselm had managed to get his daughter to agree to stay until Crimbo -- he still was uneasy about letting his little girl go -- but now, his time had run out. Still, this was a momentous occasion, and he wanted everyone to know how proud he was of his daughter. In the most discreet, and yet not, way he could. A sale. Mind, he was already going to have a post-Crimbo sale, but he bumped it up from 25% to 30% in her honour. She was very pleased.

The shop was tidy, as usual, countless mannequins dressed in fine stripes and designs. An entire display of ties boasted silk and satin. Suits of various cloths and designs and builds, and of various price ranges. Coats of wool and leather and more. Shoe polishings and tie clippings and gloves and scarves and wallets. There was even a very lovely hat display in one corner. All around an island that held his register -- triggerwired, lest an unworthy hand cross its boundary -- and three mirrored stalls for fittings. It practically ran itself, and the little extra gold from Wizards not too skilled with their Charms made him happy. The quiet of the shop was complimented by a softly playing collection of classical music -- classical meaning mostly string, with the occasional piano piece -- both Muggle and Wizarding. Not that anyone but a great music afficionado would pay any attention to.

He was brushing any stray dust his mind fashioned for him off of one of his suits when he heard the jingle of his door -- a wizard. He grinned and made his way to the door, depositing the brush under his counter as he passed.

"Good day, sir," he greeted, a big grin on his face. "How can I help you today?"