#perfectpotions

I think it's time I set up my diffuser 😂

Although the city was a little more hospitable than the Scottish lakes, Danny felt more at ease in the depths of the freezing lakes. Of course he had been used to living in London but that little flame of adventure was sparked, though temporarily, by his trips underwater. It was one of the places that was explored by few, and Danny wasn’t scared of the unknown. Certainty was too stifling for him. He pushed his way out of the Leaky Cauldron, and Danny had ducked in between the buildings, avoiding the Christmas crowds with his precious cargo.

He was smart, but not that smart. Of course he dealt potion ingredients in a back alley, but he just thought it was funny to make all of his transactions literally behind the competition, the store that refused to pay him well enough. Danny was faced with someone he expected, though they had come a tad bit early.

“Whoa, did you want something?” Danny was pretty good at acting innocent, pretending that this might be the first time that he had met the potioneer. Danny would get to the bartering later; he didn’t want to get to business quite yet, especially since the curly haired Frenchman was just so nice to the point that maybe he was sort of naïve? Besides, what’s a little conversation anyway – the girl genius with the shop across the street would be as nice to Danny had he not been the one getting her all of her exclusive ingredients from Scotland.

It was probably the fourth or fifth time that Lucy had been in the apothecary that week. She usually wouldn’t frequent the place so often, but it was almost on the way home from doing her Christmas window shopping. Eventually she would get everyone real gifts, though whether that eventuality would come true this year was another question.

Her promise of color changing paints was something of a taller order than she expected. Either she wasn’t looking in the right textbooks or using shitty ingredients – which could very well be the case as this was the only apothecary around – but nothing she’s tried has worked well enough to be used on an actual client’s painting. In theory, she knew certain plants and aminals could change color, so their properties should transfer to their parts even after they had been harvested, right?

“I’m sorry – do you work here?” The boy looked nice enough to be working in a shop, or enough to look like he could work for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. But that seemed unlikely though Lucy was ready to just put her faux pas behind her because maybe this person knew what they were talking about more than she did. Apothecary people were always difficult to interact with, so he definitely wasn’t one of them. “I wanted to know if it’s chameleon tails or chameleon eyes that help with color changing properties?”

@perfectpotions 

“Look, I promise I understand ‘ow important this town ‘all meeting iz, but I really do not think I should go. My potions alone require much attention right now!” Lucien exclaimed, arms flying out. “It iz not like there will not be other opportunities for zis!”

He sighs, visibly deflating. “It iz also not my country. My input will not be welcome, I do not think.” A bright, charming smile crosses Lucien’s face. “Not zat zis is a problem, of course. I ‘ave many things to do. I am in ‘igh demand, non?”

“In demand for what? If you’re so damn busy then just don’t go!” Marius was already annoyed at the person holding up the crowd. The French accent was a little jarring to hear, especially since he himself had long lost it with long the family had been in the UK. “And what the hell are you smiling about? Is it because you don’t have shit to worry about?”

He would make the argument that this was the Frenchman’s problem too, but clearly he had better shit to do here… somehow. Marius couldn’t help but feel a little envious; what the hell was he doing here to begin with? How did he, with his thick accent, somehow become happier than Marius was? They both came from the same place, hadn’t they?

Besides, it wasn’t that Marius didn’t agree that they wouldn’t be heard; his suspicions had been true since Finley was the one to attack everyone else, though he was convinced that the Imperius Curse was this crazy cover up for how involved the Shacklebolts actually are in this entire conspiracy. Finley never did anything unless it was to his benefit, and his marriage to Beatrice wouldn’t have done much for the family.

Julian leaned against a wall, his left hand supporting the thick book he thumbed through. There wasn’t very many places to sit and Flourish and Blotts was overwhelmingly crowded – but it was the holiday season and he wished everyone could just disappear into the joke shop at the end of the street or something. He groaned when the book slipped through his fingers when he tried to do an awkward flip with his right hand to turn the pages.

He bent down to pick it up, pausing for a moment to realize that his range of movement was limited by whatever charms held him in place. Julian sighed, resigning himself to leaning against the wall again, fishing for his wand in his jacket pocket. 

His left side had been -- destroyed was a bit too strong of a word, though Julian preferred not to associate Finley with strong words -- his left side had been rendered mostly useless especially with all the bandages he was underneath. All of the very carefully explained jargon, Julian learned that his lung had collapsed in the attack and he had some sort of concussion from the curse, the blood loss, and possibly the impact with the marble floor. 

“Sorry --” Julian felt that he had to explain himself to the passerby, even if they weren’t paying any mind. He didn’t provide detail; the sling should be enough of an explanation. “-- the arm’s trouble....”