Hang by a Thread

Where: Summer Solstice Festival When: 21st June Who: Epimetheus && @damoclesssword​

Pim hovered back as he watched a group of children making sounds of awe over whatever demonstration was happening in Damocles’ cauldron. The hovering part was literal, now that his chair had been charmed with various upgrades that enabled it to fly but didn’t make it any easier to steer over well-trodden grass. He waited until most of the children had dispersed before he approached. “You’ve a popular stand here. I thought I’d never get close to you.” He looked around at the booth, abruptly reminded of how much he had hated potions in school. He wasn’t really sure how to interact with his brother’s booth but he didn’t want to seem unsupportive when that had already caused so many issues in the past. Talking felt like the best way forward. “It’s going well, then? It’s typical, isn’t it? Any other time, I would have to— well not work, because they would only pay the Aurors for something like this but I’d at least have to be on standby and the one time I’m all free, you’re working.”

Damos had planned to let Lily take the wheel for the most part of the day. She could handle the kids for the demonstration and he could handle the inquiries about the potions and anyone looking to buy his inventions out in the open. But his plans were quickly derailed by the volume of kids who would drop by to watch Lily work her magic. Soon, Damocles was entertaining his own group of children. After making the safest and yet most performative potion he knew, Damocles took a step back and saw his brother walking towards his booth.

benjy followed damocles to the back of the hog’s head, idly wondering if he should let up on the man.  he didn’t want to come off rude, but he knew sometimes his age played against him.  at work, surely, but in the order too.  at times, anyway.  he glanced through the menu and ordered the first thing that came to mind.  pub food was pub food, right?  still, benjy was surprised that damocles left his own order up to him.  he’d imagined the man to be a little bit higher brow than that, but he supposed it wasn’t the worst thing to see him slumming it.  benjy‘s head perked up a little at the other’s question.  he contemplated a smart remark, but the exhaustion and hunger were starting to get to him, so he figured it easier to play nice.  “sure. hit me with it.”

Damocles wasn’t one to discriminate against food establishments just because of their respective target audiences. While he does have his limits—the Cackling Stump specifically—pubs and inns were fair game. Good food is good food. It just so happens that Damocles isn’t too familiar with the offerings of Hog’s Head Inn. Most of the time, he spends his time in Hogsmeade at Three Broomsticks. That’s why he referred to Benjy’s choice.

It was nice, being reminded of what was and what wasn’t. “I s’pose you’re right,” she nodded. “I’ve always… I’ve always thought of learning as being in a classroom, mostly because of my da. But it’s more than that. In fact, you’re teaching me right now, aren’t you? Rather sneaky there.” Lily grinned, looking to the books on his shelf. It was nice to know she was with someone who understood. Someone, who, despite it all, was a good man, and who wanted to help her grow both as a potioneer and a person. “You and my da would get along,” she said, adding a nod at the end. 

It took her a second, but she picked one of his books off the shelf. Lily knew it well, a book mostly on memory potions, but full of anecdotes and the differences between flowers and their petals. “I’ve actually been reading through this one…” she said, looking up at him. “Although, I’ve got a few thoughts on the vampire serum as well. But it’s not that.”

Lily bit the inside of her cheek, not exactly sure how far she should delve into Order business with Damos. So instead, she said, “I’ve always been fascinated with memory charms, but mostly the reversal of them. I’ve been working on this potion on and off since I was in school but I’ve never… I’ve never got it quite right.”

.

Damocles shook his head. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. “We never really stop learning, don’t we? There’s always so much more that we could learn about potions. More so about the world around us.” To be quite frank, Damocles thought that Hogwart’s Potions curriculum, including the one for its advanced classes, was severely lacking. If Lily still hasn’t grasped that, then Damocles definitely hasn’t been teaching her enough. “I’d love to meet your father someday.”

The potioneer saw the cover of the book Lily reached for and instantly knew what it was. Every book that Damocles has in his office, he has read at least once. “Oh? Are you looking into memory potions?” Damos was slightly disappointed that it wasn’t about the vampire serum — he found himself in a rut these days — but he appreciated Lily’s curiosity just the same.

Wrinkles appeared on his forehead just like whenever he’s in deep thought. “You’re looking to recover memories?” he asked. Memory retrieval potions were important, especially for those who experienced unfortunate side effects from memory spells. But it was too niche of a problem for him to really delve into. “May I see the potion you’re trying to make?” he asked as he reached for his reading glasses.

Alyosha paused for a moment as he processed what Damocles had said; then, his lips curved and he nodded. “Yes, I can imagine. All the interview and statement requests – reporters to demanding to know more. To know everything. Was that it was like when you released the wolfsbane potion?” he asked. He sucked in a breath he didn’t need. “If press is something you don’t want to deal with, I can handle it.”

He watch Damocles take his seat. Though he didn’t know the wizard, Alyosha could read trouble in his expression. He kept his expression open and neutral as he waited for Damocles to speak, giving him the space to find his voice and his words. To find a word: family. “Someone who is personally affected?” he offered where Damocles had left off. “A family member who has been turned.” This time it wasn’t a question. It made sense though, why it was suddenly so urgent. It was personal. “I hope your relative is coping well. It’s not an easy transition and having people to support is key. Having that support can determine a great many things, including one’s future.” The person he’d had following his change hadn’t been a good influence; it was not until the blade was at his neck and the ultimatum was at his feet that he shaped himself into the vampire he was today.

If Damocles seemed surprised by what the vampire brought up, it’s because he genuinely was. He wasn’t even thinking about the public side of things when he mentioned their days becoming more hectic. “Well, those are definitely going to be parts of it.  But, yes, please. I’m not turning down that offer. The more time I can devote on the potion itself and not worrying about such matters, the better.” His circumstances prevented him from chuckling. “Oh, it was much worse. Back then, it was just me. I had only the academe whom I can trust and it very much felt like I had to deal with everything all on my own.” Now? He has a sponsor. He has an assistant. Damocles hardly worried about such matters that he could easily avoid anymore. “I was actually thinking more about the legislative side of things. People would want to regulate it. Tax it. Not to mention that there would be pressure from different kinds of stakeholders to change how it’s marketed or how it’s produced to fit their needs.”

Damocles didn’t have to finish his sentence for Don to know exactly what he was going to say. His jaw clenched and he looked down, trying to keep the words in his mouth, before he looked back up at his brother. “Am I?” he asked quietly. “Am I a monster now?” The question was two fold. If he were a monster, maybe there were some kind of rules he could follow. Maybe he could figure out how to be a good monster, just like he’d figured out how to be a good lawyer. He doubted it was that simple, but Adonis wished it was. He both wanted that, and didn’t. He both wanted to be a monster because at least he had a name for it, and didn’t because he couldn’t be a monster. Not with Marcus. Not now.

“I don’t know of him,” he said, shaking his head. “I dated a vampire back at Harvard but she… She isn’t an option.” Don rubbed his eyes looking down into his lap and then back up at his brother. A laugh broke out at his offer, the first real laugh he’d had during the conversation and he looked up his brother with gratitude in his eyes. Damocles cared so much, and Adonis had pushed it away for so long. Not now. “I will take you up on that if I need it,” he said, softly. “For now, we’re okay. Celeste… I don’t know if you know her, but she’s been helping out a bit. She was good friends with Pen.”

The mention of her name made him look back down, and he didn’t look up again until Damos asked him if he could give him his support. Don knew that it was something Damos had always wanted. Something he’d never been able to provide. Maybe, just maybe, something good could come out of this whole thing. He reached out tentatively, still not used to touching people; still scared. But he did it anyways, gently clapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to ask me to do that,” he said, nodding. “I should have done it a long time ago.”

.

Damos have called Don many names over the years. A knob. A dunderhead. A pain in the arse. The worse ones he kept to himself. But not once, did he ever think that his brother was a monster. Not then, when he didn’t support Damocles for going after his dreams. Not now, even though he’s been afflicted with a curse that could push him out of control and harm Damocles. Even kill him. ”No,” Damocles replied sternly. “You aren’t. You aren’t any more dangerous than you were with your wand, Don. You’re no monster.”

“He’s a member of the Wizengamot and he looks after his own kind. He’s a generous sponsor too. He’s helping me with the potion and together, hopefully, we can mass produce it by the end of the year’s second quarter.” The potioneer shook his head at the mention of another vampire. That was another story for another day. They can discuss it later. “No. You’re right. I think... it’s better to ask for help from people we can rely on.” Damocles didn’t press on about Don’s living arrangements. If he thinks that staying with this Celeste would be better then so be it. “I don’t know her but... it sounds like you trust her. Does she know? About you?”

Damocles exhaled as if he’s been holding his breath ever since he told Adonis that he wanted to become a potioneer. This. This was the brother he wanted to have. The brother that he thought he deserved. The brother Don could be. “Okay. That’s all I need to know.”

It was nice to know that Damocles thought that of her. Truthfully, these days, Lily found that some of her sweetness was being sapped from her; slowly draining as she tried to continue in her daily life and the war. Still, it was nice to know that it was still there. It was nice to hear the reminder. “I was trying,” she added, with a grin. “I agree. I miss potions class, too, sometimes. I mean, truth be told, I miss Hogwarts sometimes as a whole. I wouldn’t change my life, y’know? But… there was something nice about constantly learning. Constantly being surrounded by it.”

While she knew that Damocles would understand, it was nice to see how easily he understood. Lily nodded eagerly. “I hope so too,” she said. “Y’know, that was actually what made me like potions so much. I started with a cauldron before I even went to Hogwarts. Almost blew up my sister’s room when something went wrong, and mum and I had to clean for days. I had to save up to buy her back the pink comforter that she loved.”

A snort followed, but there was a bit of sadness to it. Lily missed her sister. Missed when Tuney would try to be involved, even if it ended in disaster. They’d been laughing, then, though. “Oh, I mean,” Lily said, laughing a bit sheepishly. “I actually had something I’d wanted to talk to you about. If you had time tonight? Harry’s in daycare late, so.”

.

Damocles smiled. “Aren’t we technically continuing your potions class here?” In another life, Damocles fancies that he can be a professor. He could be as brilliant as Horace without his flaw of choosing and picking his favorites. “Or is that your subtle way of telling me you still want to learn more?” He looked to the side at the many books he has collected over the years. “I like to think that I’m still learning. There’s still so much for me to learn. Ancient practices. Practices from other cultures, particularly the east. There’s no reason we shouldn’t stop learning now, right? Even if there’s no one else to teach us but ourselves?”

“Merlin,” Damocles muttered as he chuckled at Lily’s anecdote. “That must have been terrible for your parents and your sister.” Cleaning potions was easy with magic. But he couldn’t dare to imagine how hard it was to clean up without the usual spells.

The potioneer raised a curious brow. “Oh? What is it? Has it something to do with the vampire serum?” Damocles didn’t know what to call it yet. But it’s a working title while it was still in its prototype stage.

Quite some time had passed since Damocles first offered to get dinner with him after the carnival. They both had busy schedules that made it hard to plan, but it also made it harder to keep his nerves calm in the meantime.

He didn’t go out often and everything that he knew about social situations was going out of his head at that moment. “Yes, of course,” he said as if it was obvious.

Moody had been analyzing the implications of this meeting in his free time, but he really didn’t want to come to terms with the possibility that this was something other than a friendly meeting. When Damocles commented on his appearance, he felt like it was more than just fulfilling a bid. “No, it was on me. I know my schedule isn’t easy.” he said, trying to assuage the other man. He followed him to their table and sat down. He didn’t want to approach this as something to get over with, but it was how he felt a bit. “I feel underdressed compared to you,” he said bashfully. “Thank you for arranging this.”

This was supposed to be a night for Damos to relax. Spend an evening with a friend in a restaurant that he has been anticipating since he first heard from the grapevine about its opening. But there was a reason it took him this long to arrange their dinner. The auror was busy. But so was he. His new invention was still in the midst of trials and there was still a lot to be done. Much to his chagrin, he found his usual worries resurfacing.

“It’s a rare occasion, I admit.” He kept and worked long, strange hours. Strange even for a vampire. Between trials, meetings, reading and writing proposals – his schedule was pack. In this case, a meeting had been cancelled, and he’d already planned to go home at a reasonable hour. Achille was back, after all. Now, he might even get home early – Damocles was unlikely to take as much time as the lobbyist who’d cancelled.

Alyosha nodded, looking at Damocles with raised brows as he stepped past the potioneer. He waited for Damocles to to elaborate, but it took until they reached his office, and it wasn’t much of an elaboration. His face creased as he took a seat. “Something urgent?” he asked, concern and confusion mingling in his voice. “Is it something would affect our potion? Besides motivating you, that is.”

Damocles nodded. He didn’t doubt what Alyosha said. In fact, he expected it. Whether it was luck or something else that allowed them to meet, the potioneer was grateful nonetheless. “I understand. Really.” Damocles’s lips turned into a half-smile that made him look sheepish. “If I’m being quite honest, it might just get more hectic given how we’re progressing with the potion.”

A laugh barked out of her at Damocles’ admission, and she nodded her head ever so slightly. “I was trying to be polite,” she admitted herself, teasing back as she started to pack up her things. It was nice to hear Damocles tease, though. These days, they were all so stressed out that it felt strange for them to have a moment to breathe. “I will keep my lips shut, I promise. Not once will I remind dear old Slughorn that we both wish to never see him again. Or hear about Mildred Yamworthy.” 

Lily faux-shivered at the name of the woman that Slughorn always brought up when there was a particularly bright woman potioneer in his class. It was nice to know that he thought that highly of them, but it was the only woman he could ever think of. Slughorn was not without his faults, even if he was brilliant in many ways. A small smile appeared on her lips and she nodded ever so slightly. “He is amazed by magic,” she said, laughing ever so slightly. “The first time I took him to Diagon he spent hours in the potion shop just… looking. We had to drag him out.”

It was a fond memory, and Lily’s smile only grew when Damocles praised her potion. “Wonderful,” she said, grinning brightly. “I thought I had it right, but, yes we should test it. Just to make sure. I mean not that I don’t trust you… You did make the potion, after all.”

.

Damocles smiled at Lily. “You’re a sweet kid.” It might have come out of the blue but he meant it wholeheartedly. He doesn’t see her husband a lot but from the rare times he’s seen him, he could see just how much Lily’s kindness blossoms with her husband around. He laughed at her promise. “I thought you were trying to be sweet? I’d say that not wanting to see him is too harsh. Truth be told, Slughorn is perfectly fine. As long as people take him in only small doses.”

“Aren’t we all?” Lily’s story reminded him of how wondrous everything first seemed when he was first introduced to the world of magic. “Isn’t that why we do our work? We are constantly amazed by the wonders of magic and are infinitely curious about its limits. Wondering what it could do and how far we could take it?” At least, that was how Damocles perceived it. “I hope your father never gets tired of seeing your magic.”

Damocles shrugged. Now and then, he allows himself a moment of pride. “I did,” he said as he tucked the potion for later inspection. “One day, you’ll be making your own. That’s if you want to, of course.” Damocles wasn’t there to plot Lily’s course, only to guide it.

His brother’s kindness made him want to break down, but instead he stared at his knuckles, watching as his fingers weaved in and out, trying to tell a story, but finding difficulty as they were stuck in between the ridges. Adonis closed his eyes as Damos asked that question and he shook his head. “I go to a nearby wood,” he said, quietly. “Mostly animals. I… I… I don’t think I’ve fed on a human, yet.” The words came out gruff, as Adonis had a heard time saying them; had a hard time admitting that he might’ve, that first night, hurt someone. “I can’t remember the first few days well. I had written to our babysitter after everything and she’d taken in Marcus for a few days. I honestly still don’t know how I made it to the funeral.”

Adonis looked down at his hands, watching as the story tried to continue. However, at his brother’s next words, he was looking up, surprised written on his features. And, for the first time since Penelope had passed, something like hope bubbled in his stomach. “Brother,” he said softly. “How can I… How can I help?” Really, what he meant was how can I repay you? It wasn’t as if Damos was doing this for him, he knew, but nonetheless it might bring back a semblance of his normal life; it might bring him back to Earth again.

“Obviously I’m quite rubbish at potioneering,” he said. As the words settled, Don couldn’t help but smile a little. He hadn’t meant it as a joke, but it had come out that way, almost naturally, and he rubbed his eyes to try and get the pain out of them. “But if you need funding… Or extra hands. I’m happy to be there.” For once, he was offering his assistance. And maybe it was far too late, but he hoped Damos would take it. 

.

Damocles’ instinct was to remain as professional as he does with sponsors, donors, or any other people asking for his help. But this was his brother. Every word he uttered seemed to leave pinpricks on his chest. “Good heavens, Adonis,” he couldn’t help but interject as his brother explained. Somehow, he managed to keep his wits with him. “Well, our first priority is finding you a supply, all right? Something safe and legal. So you no longer have to go to woods and hunt like...” Damocles didn’t want to finish that sentence. He couldn’t. “I’m certain I can help with that.” The funeral. A coldness seemed to wash over Damocles. How did he not notice it then? Adonis has been in so much anguish since then.

The potioneer didn’t want to give his brother false hope, and yet, seeing Don look at him like that... Damocles found himself wanting to give his older brother as much hope as he could. “You can help me by helping yourself.” That was the truth. “I already have a sponsor. Another vampire actually. Alyosha Talinov. Surely, you know him?” Or maybe not. Damocles’ just felt like he had to know him because the vampire had the power to affect causes of his. “At least, make sure that you and Marcus are going to be okay. Do you need a place to stay? I... I have a spare room back in my place. It’s there for you and Marcus if you need it.”

If someone told him a decade ago that Don would one day offer his help so that Damocles could invent a potion, he would have called them a fat liar. Well, he might not say it, but he would definitely think it. Now, their world couldn’t have turned more upside down if it tried. Damos shook his head reassuringly. “That is... really sweet of you, Don. But I’m actually quite well funded. And I already have people here helping me and more. Frankly, all I need is a little time.” Damos offered a sad smile. Here Don was, finally offering help and yet, Damocles didn’t know how to accept it. “I guess all you can give me is your support.” All he ever needed was his brother’s support. Maybe it’s not too late for that after all.

Who: @damoclesssword​ 

Where: Outside the new restaurant

When: April 8, 1983; evening

Moody thought about leaving when he saw the restaurant. He could owl, say he got stuck at work. He could go back to work. Make it more convincing. A case came up. He forgot to file some paperwork. Frank needed him. Damocles probably wouldn’t see through any of the lies.

The place was fancier than he’d expected and rather than think about changing his clothes, he just wanted to leave altogether. Moody hadn’t had a normal relationship with Damocles lately and he felt entirely out of his comfort zone.

But Belby was frustratingly on time and he saw him before Moody could make his exit. He still could get out of this. He could make up any of the excuses he listed in his head and leave. He could lie to his face. He knew how to do that. But when Belby walked up to him and smiled, guilt grew in Moody’s chest. Guilt, definitely guilt. “Sorry I didn’t get us a table. It’s a new place and I uh…” He cursed himself internally. Bad start. Very bad start. “Let’s go in shall we?”

Damocles didn’t think much of his offer when he first gave it to Alastor. Just casual dinner. Something to make up for Damocles bidding on him during the Valentine’s Day Carnival. Merlin, that was almost two months ago. Time flew by and Damocles felt every agonizing minute of it.

When he first saw Moody, Damocles couldn’t help but pick up how uncomfortable the Auror seemed. He knew it. He shouldn’t have pressed. It seemed to be a good idea back then but now... it’s become clear that Moody would prefer to be somewhere else. Damocles just smiled through it and greeted the Auror. “Hey. Don’t worry. I already did that for us.” Of course, he did. Damocles likes to think of everything in advance. 

Moody couldn’t stop the way his face scrunched up as Damocles called him a friend. He hoped it didn’t offend him in any way, but he couldn’t help it. He barely called Edgar his friend and Edgar definitely was his friend. “Friend,” he repeated.

He almost felt guilty at Damocles’s expression and thought about changing his answer. But he just nodded. It would take Moody a long time before he’d trust Damocles in his home. “Right. Send me the name of the place and I’ll meet you there.” He smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

Damocles practically observed the gears in the Auror’s head turning. Had he said something that he wasn’t supposed to? Something that Alastor disapproved of? The potioneer had no notion of what it could have been until Alasotr repeated the word he had used. Friend. Damocles didn’t even notice that he referred to the Auror as one. What else was he? What word was the potioneer supposed to use? He was thinking of how to backtrack when Alastor seemingly finally approved of it.

He was disappointed but not at all surprised when Alastor found a way to redirect Damocles from his home. Some other time perhaps. Damocles, for the first time in a long time, couldn’t think of a place where to take the Auror yet. But at least, he has time to figure it out. “I will. And I’m looking forward to it as well.”

Alyosha had come to Damocles with no guarantee the potioneer would accept the job nor any idea about how long it would take if he did. The vampire just wasn’t an expert in the field – thus why he’d gone to one. But considering the interviews about the wolfsbane potion he’d brushed up on before seeking out Damocles, he’d expected longer than a few months. A year or two, at least. He wasn’t going to complain if Damocles was right, but maybe he’d ask a few questions.

Arriving not too long after he’d received the potioneer’s letter, he stood waiting on the porch, sunlight prickling his skin. It didn’t hurt, not as it once had, though Alyosha would be hard-pressed to call it pleasant. Fortunately, Damocles didn’t make him wait long, opening the door and inviting him inside.

“You caught me in a lull,” he said, offering Damocles a friendly smile as he stepped inside. “But you’re not the only one surprised. I didn’t think the development process would be so quick.”

“I didn’t know you experience such lulls in the first place,” Damocles confessed. A man his stature probably had a thousand businesses to attend to. He figured free time for the vampire only came once in a blue moon. But the potioneer wasn’t about to complain. The sooner he could consult with Alyosha, the better.

“I’m quite surprised too. If I’m quite honest, I wasn’t projecting any real progress until at least six more months,” he continued as he ushered the vampire in. Damocles didn’t bother to offer the vampire any refreshments. By now, he’s gotten quite used to the fact. All to his benefit really. He would love to get to the point right away. 

benjy probably shouldn’t have gotten as much of a kick out of tormenting a man nearly double his age as he did, but… ah, well, who was he kidding?  being among the youngest members of the order, he didn’t often get a chance to feel superior to anyone, so.  this was as close as he got.  he arched an eyebrow as damocles corrected himself, deciding to let him get to the point on his own.  benjy took a rather large swig of his drink in the interim, internally enjoying this a lot more than he showed.  “well …  actually?”  realistically, he probably shouldn’t.  hanging around with another member after the meeting?  could look odd.  but then again, damocles had missed it anyway.  and benjy was hungry.  “fine.  yes to both, i suppose.  why not?”

Benjy didn’t need to verbalize anything. His raised eyebrow was enough to send the point across. That was for the best, Damocles supposed. He still wasn’t quite used to dealing with matters surrounding the Order outside the Order. So it was better to let others take the lead. Even if it was someone as young as Fenwick. 

As if his stomach was listening to his own question, it grumbled right around the same time the young wizard answered. Thank Merlin for the cacophony of other patrons around them. Working double time on his potion until the sun went down caused him to miss out on dinner. He was probably just as hungry as Bengy. If not more. 

Don. The word might’ve brought him to tears a few weeks ago, but he felt as though he’d lost all of his tears at this point; they’d all been shed in the weeks following Penelope’s death; in the weeks following the trauma. The pain was still there, of course, but it was less like a knife, constantly stabbing into his side. No, the hunger had taken over that; the constant desire to feed. He wanted to push it down now, but it was here. Coming here had put Damos in danger. Of him. He hated it. So, instead of tears, he lowered his head, nodding as he did. “Thank you,” he said, simply, humbling himself for a moment more. 

“Marcus is safe,” he said, gruffly. “We’re staying at the Leaky… for now. But that’s why I’m here because the… the, uh, cravings.” His eyes were wide, now, he knew, frantic. “I don’t want to hurt him, Damos. I don’t want to… I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

That was the fear, had always been the fear, from the morning he woke up and found himself in the woods, covered in blood. Someone’s blood. He didn’t know who’s; the whole night had been such a blur that Adonis wasn’t sure if it was an animal’s or if it was Penelope’s or someone else’s. Luckily, he scoured the news for any mention of a death, and neither in the Muggle or Wizarding world was there any reports other than Penelope’s. 

“If there’s anything that could help,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Like… like how you made the wolfsbane for the, uh… Y’know. I know it’s a long shot, but if anyone would’ve known…” It would’ve been Damos, of course. He was smarter than Don had ever given him credit for. 

.

Seeing Don how he is now was heartbreaking. This wasn’t the strong Belby brother he liked to project himself as during their shared years in Hogwarts. This wasn’t the Don who didn’t leave for America without giving Damocles his thoughts about the path he wanted to take. No. This was Don, all broken and hurting. This was the side of Don that Damos never got to see.

“Leaky Cauldron,” Damocles muttered. It was not a place that suits a vampire well. And most certainly not his brother. After his brother admitted his cravings, it was clear to the potioneer what their priorities should be. “You’re not...” Damocles had to clear his throat to be able to continue. “You’re not going to hurt anyone. Especially not your son. We won’t let that happen, okay? But first, tell me. How have you been feeding?” Damocles asked as straightforward as he could. There was no fear nor judgment. He asked it just like how a Healer would during a routine check-up.

Damocles couldn’t believe it but despite their current situation, there was actually a reason to feel relieved. Like how you made the wolfsbane for the... Don’s reason for visiting him suddenly became crystal clear. His brother’s tragic news distracted him from the horribly opportune fact that Damocles might already have the answer to his brother’s problem.

He took a deep breath as well as he worked out how to bring it up. “Wow. As a matter of fact... I have actually been brewing something since June last year. It’s nothing like Wolfsbane. It doesn’t revert your mental state as if you weren’t... afflicted. But in theory, it’s meant to be a substitute for blood. So that vampires no longer need animals or humans to feed.”

Slughorn was many things, but bad at spotting talent wasn’t one of them. Lily had always admired his ability to see potential in his students. While Lily had a knack from the beginning, Slughorn had always fostered others’ not so natural abilities as well. She appreciated that he saw talent in all forms and nurtured it that way. Still, Lily couldn’t believe sometimes that she’d been one of the few he’d chosen. That, with his recommendation, she’d ended up helping Damocles. It felt too much like a dream come true, and these days, she was always worried about watching it all crash down around her. “I almost miss him,” she teased, fondly. 

“It might be American,” Lily agreed. “My dad taught it to me, I s’pose. He sometimes goes on lectures there, at, uh, Muggle schools. So maybe he learned it from one of his students.” It had been a staple in her household growing up, after all, although now that Lily thought about it she really didn’t see many people high-fiving around her. She’d have to ask James when she got home that night. “Well, thank you,” she said, nodding her head. “For putting that much faith in me.” It was true, though. She had studied, harder than maybe anyone in her class. She’d felt like she had so much to catch up on; so much to learn that her peers had just… known from the time they were born. “Of course,” she said, smiling a bit nervously as she passed it to him. “It looked the right shade of purple this time, and didn’t smell like tuna, which I thought was a step in the right direction at the very least.”

.

“Well, I do not,” Damocles teased. His smile seemed to shave a couple of years off his age. He’s been too distressed lately, focusing on the vampire potion that any chance to kick back and relax with Lily seemed like an oasis in Damocles’ personal never-ending desert. “Listen, I’ll take you to the next event he invites me in. Just promise me that you won’t tell him what I said.”

“Oh really?” He was genuinely delighted to know that fact. Learning more about the people around him was something that Damocles loved to do. The problem is that he seldom asks out of fear of pushing his boundaries. He preferred it if other people freely shared facts about them themselves. “He sounds like a well-traveled and educated man. He must be proud.” The potioneer nodded his head back. “And thank you for assuring me that my faith was well-placed.” With the vial in his hand, Damocles lifted the potion up so that it caught the light perfectly. He saw what he needed to see, which in this case was just precisely what Lily described. Damocles also removed the stopper and sure enough, there was no hint of seafood. The potioneer smiled. He almost laughed. “I could already tell that this was a perfect brew. But if you’d like, I could do further tests on it later so that I could give you a full appraisal regarding how you did?”