#p:thieving

The polyjuice potion was always hard to come by. Even in the Auror department, it wasn’t utilised as often in case work as it should be. What’s more, this is Order business. Alastor can’t pilfer from the scarce supply without drawing attention to himself. So they’d had to rely on the skills of the Order members with knowledge enough to create it themselves. It was getting the hairs of known Death Eaters that presented the greatest challenge. They had to be obscure enough that apprehending them wouldn’t risk alert but undeniably part of the group.

Holding up his bottle of the finished product, Alastor looks over at Felix Kaiser, his partner in this mission and a good man from the Auror Department. Ever since his mate had lost his life to death eaters during a mission, Felix has become a reserved echo of his former bright self. Alastor hopes that his work with the Order will draw him back to his brash and cocky self. Even if he’d been somewhat of a pain during his days as a trainee, the Head Auror would prefer that to the silent man before him now.

“Bottems up, lad.” The potion falls into Alastor’s mouth, acrid and grimy against his tongue and the viscous liquid seems to coat his throat as it worms down into his belly. “Bloodae ‘ell that’s a right ‘orror.”