Newton is quoted to have said "It is the weight, not numbers of experiments that is to be regarded."

Johann was rather glad, if Newton had said it. It gave him some reassurance that they were working in the right direction, albeit slowly. Then again, perhaps it was his perception. Sometimes the whole world seemed to move in slow motion.

Vedir had put Johann and Landis together in co-operation over a new project, and the pair had been meeting on a semi-regular basis at Hasard Hall to work in peace on it. Landis, a most skilled magician and researcher, having spent time with the Department of Mysteries. His long thin limbs, and the way he turned his wand in the air had Johann transfixed each time they met like this.

Prideaux had obtained, Johann didn't even need to guess the means was probably anything but simple, some unfinished research, and associated texts. He was very keen for them to pick up where the previous owner left off - and it seemed like the original owner was not around, or in a fit state to do so. The added complication was that the texts were in difficult language, and shorthand at times, and that side of it fell to Johann to try and work out, and Landis providing the experience to make firm decisions based on what they decoded. It all took time and effort.

When it came to trying anything, well, they only had to ask Vedir for subjects...

"Hang on," Johann was muttering as they poured over a page of smudged text, "That looks like the symbol back here, only... reversed?" Sometimes he began to wonder if the author of the text had put in certain things to try and stop others reading and working with it.

"What does that mean? Reverse the movement or invert ... or is it referring to the incantation pattern?" He showed Landis the two symbols, and then on another piece of parchment tried to sketch out what the smudged word was beside it. Sometimes they'd get stuck on smudged words for a night, only to realise what it meant by the following week - or realise they'd got it entirely wrong. Frustrating, infuriating, but absolutely brilliant.

Given the breadth of the task at hand - given the demanding nature of spell experimentation, the complexity of the research, and the intelligence of those he was led to work beside - given that both his other jobs included professional babysitting, Landis was finding his employ under Prideaux immensely, wonderfully, personally satisfying. He had already begun to look forward to meeting with Johann at Hasard Hall every couple of weeks; it was like a vacation from idiocy, a really beautiful thing.

He had not had an opportunity to work in such a way since his time as an Unspeakable. He'd found he'd missed it: the  patience required, the trial-and-error, methodical processes not dissimilar to the brewing of potions. But with potions, there were recipes to follow - here it was only the gradual unfolding of the mysterious into the known, translating theory into practice. Progress was slow and the results were often frustrating, but Vedir was generous with his resources and, apparently, willing to wait to have things done right. They were neither rushed nor lacking in test subjects. Though Landis would do admirably at any task he was assigned, he was unexpectedly pleased at this challenge over mindless enforcement or routine poisoning.

Johann's long finger tapped a page and Landis leaned over to read it, glancing between the two symbols. One's first instinct to say, "There's only one way to find out, let's try it," was, though tempting, entirely incorrect. People were killed somewhat regularly their lack of precaution in spell experimentation, and there was no counting the reactive oddities he had seen in the Department of Mysteries.

"This is, what, old German?" he asked. "Was there any precedent for ciphers in the previous chapters upon translation?" He too had doubted the original writer's intentions. What few personal comments Johann had translated bore as little resemblance to sanity as a curry to a caper; there was no doubt which way the writer'd gone or how Vedir had obtained his writings, and whether he'd deliberately made things difficult or obtuse remained to be seen. Landis' eyes passed slowly over the symbol again as he thought. A false symbol for the uninitiated.... "Downward force to the previous one's progression. The direction of the casting, yes, that seems likely." That was the obvious first thought. But when had this project ever included that which was obvious?

"Perhaps even the charge to begin removing elements in the order they were added," he murmured, definitely a potioneer's suggestion and not one he intended to be taken as gospel truth until they had more of it translated. "The wormwood on the brow, the cups, and all." Ultimately they would cull the need for such aids. They were more superstition and preference than necessities, and would only get in the way of what Landis and Johann were to develop. Landis, who hoped to use their research in application to his own individual pursuits, was certainly not going to go about with his pockets full of wormwood as this text advised.

"This is, what, old German?" Morgan asked,
"There abouts," Johann replied, it wasn't time to explain the difference between South Rhine Franconian and Bavarian.
"Was there any precedent for ciphers in the previous chapters upon translation?"
"Purposeful mistakes, I think to protect from simple duplication - mistakes enough to blow a head off." Johann had been amazed only the last time they'd met at how different a spell could be by using the wrong rhythm of incantation, or turning the wand in the opposite direction. It had made him feel far more appreciative for his schooling.
"You reckon this is another to try and catch us out or a genuine instruction? A change for this iteration?"

Johann looked up and found his gaze lingering on Landis Morgan's features. He was quite an incredible being both in physique but in mind. Merlin bless Vedir. The only difficulty was that Johann was once again feeling that unusual, flustered feeling he had when he'd spent time with Prideaux. It had to be the house…

"Downward force to the previous one's progression. The direction of the casting, yes, that seems likely." Landis spoke and Johann snapped out of his temporary staring and looked back to the notes.

"Perhaps even the charge to begin removing elements in the order they were added," Morgan continued to mutter, "The wormwood on the brow, the cups, and all." Johann caught the last of it more clearly and smirked.

"Indeed. Give me a few minutes and I'll see what I can make of this smudged word." He began to fill a piece of parchment with strokes of the quill, guessing what the word could be.

"My best interpretation," he indicated a suggested word on the parchment near the top, "is that he didn't know if that was the best route or not - its a 'perhaps' as if he isn't sure whether it needed to be reversed." He tilted his head, "I don't like the word perhaps when its combined with this sort of magic. Why isn't he sure? Is it because its an afterthought for efficiency, or is it because the other way didn't work - or did he never try it? Never dare?"

Johann put the quill down and sat back, folding his arms as he thought about it. The fact his translations could be the difference between someone keeping their arm or losing it as a spell backfired was quite a bit of pressure, but he relished it. The danger was intoxicating.

"Come on now, he must know later… he must realise, or theorise!" Johann seized the original text and leafed through the following pages, scouting out for the symbol or the suggestion again.

"Hmm." It was a heavy, rather laden sound, full of lurking cynicism but some amusement too. Of course the dark wizard with a mind like a sackful of weasels in a barrel of pins had put in tricks to blow off the casual observer's head. Why not. It was almost fun. And Landis meant that, but - "He can't have been so familiar with it to remember all the real steps. There must be something in there later, the whole process, the complete one, or maybe in his other notes." His gut feeling was that it was too obvious to be a trap, but that meant nothing to cold logic.

He was hovering over the table, too distracted to really sit and stay in one place. Naturally once he noticed this he made himself sit, taking advantage of the ample legroom under the table (Prideaux' easy foresight of their every possible comfort was sometimes a little eerie) as he reached for a quill and some parchment of his own. "We'll copy it out both ways," he said, even-toned, decisive. "With the reversed symbol and without. Then see which fits better into the whole."

Johann's quill flew as he gave him his few minutes, and the end result was one neither man was overjoyed with. Landis eyed the journal critically. What a tease.

"He mightn't have finished it before his research was seized," he reminded Johann who was rapidly flipping through the text, a note in his voice that was almost sympathetic. It was frustrating, the possibility, but that was what they were here for. "We can always have a test subject perform the incantation."

"He mightn't have finished it before his research was seized, we can always have a test subject perform the incantation."

Johann shivered ever so slightly at the thought.
"Whenever you suggest that, I always feel rather responsible if they make a mistake." He admitted, dropping the quill and wrapping his arms around him as if he felt cold all of a sudden. In his past he'd stood by and watched people be hexed and beaten for trying to be clever over trade when working for clients like Vedir. He wasn't a violent person himself, but at those times it had seemed justified to be able to stand and watch.

"I know we have to, I just," he ruffled his hair and made a face, "sometimes can't help but think what a waste of a life it is for the volunteer. But," he shook his head and picked up his quill with a thoughtful frown, "its what we're here to do, and volunteers they are. If I'm wrong, I'm wrong." The linguist stared at the word again, turning his head from side to side, judging his decision.

"Perhaps I'm not as much of a risk-taker as you are." He admitted with a wistful smile, raising his blue-eyed gaze to Landis, aware that the other man had a rather different background on such experimental magic.

Landis blinked, for a moment completely taken off-guard. Johann had been so enthusiastic about the academic challenge that it had not occurred to Landis - and nor had Johann said anything before - that the other man was not entirely on board with what they were doing. Johann worked for Vedir, after all; Landis had assumed they were equally comfortable with the casual use of other, less important people's sanity and lives. Sensing unexpected morals, he hastily backtracked.

"If we don't test this, how will we know what works?" he asked, almost gently, thinking of approaches to appeal to Johann's highly analytical mind. He leaned a little closer, holding Johann's gaze. Not too intent - not enough to startle or discomfort - but rock-solidly, absolutely, perfectly reasonable. Blue eyes met blue, similar cold shades of pale. "And who would you chose to continue this, should we become incapable of continuing due to testing spells ourselves?"

This wavering was a dangerous indicator of weakness. Landis did not trust to simple blackmail or threats to keep reluctant employees in line. As he had learned from Malvivicus, it only inspired the vicious and pressing desire to undermine, subvert, and resist. Better to kill or Obliviate former employees if one wanted to be certain of leaving no dogs worrying at one's heel. He would need to mention this to Prideaux, probably, suggest that someone keep a close eye on Johann in case his sympathy increased. What a pity it would be if the linguist truly needed to be Obliviated; minds like his weren't at all common. Landis would certainly regret his loss for a bit.

"If the research is conducted correctly, no one need suffer. Not pointlessly, at least." He nodded to the book under Johann's hand, offering the warm curve of a smile. "It's only more incentive for us to do well."

"If we don't test this, how will we know what works? And who would you chose to continue this, should we become incapable of continuing due to testing spells ourselves?"

Johann's eyes were unable to move from Morgan's as he spoke. He knew Landis spoke the truth, he knew there was no other way, but as time wore on, instead of becoming adjusted to it, he was starting to find... morals. It was a strange concept that Johann often didn't engage with when doing work for Vedir or other parties in similar shady business, a concept normally hampered by sleeping potion, only he hadn't let any pass his lips since his stay in St Mungo's. Reality was a bit sharper of late, and he had dreams.

"If the research is conducted correctly, no one need suffer. Not pointlessly, at least. It's only more incentive for us to do well."

The linguist nodded, though behind the eyes he was still a little unsure. One of the voices in his head was definitely a conscience, and it didn't get much of a platform usually.

"Apologies, you are quite right. I wasn't suggesting we test on ourselves. Perhaps an animal, but that's not what the spell was for." His eyes dropped to the book again. "Sorry, you're here to think about that, I'm here to translate."

Johann shuffled, a little uncomfortable, and tried to refocus, pushing aside thoughts of volunteers. He leafed through the book for several more minutes, his gaze keenly combing each page for something to allude to the solution to the problem. Perhaps wasn't right. Perhaps was incomplete. Perhaps stood between life and death.

Perhaps was why he was here. Perhaps Storm can help you, it had been.

But there was no perhaps about the whole thing. He was here to help even if he declined, Johann didn't say perhaps to Vedir, and he certainly didn't say no.

"Alright," Johann spoke at last, putting down his quill and smoothing both hands over his dark hair, "we'll get a test subject."

"Don't be foolish. I would not want a translator without a brain. It will take the both of us to finish this project successfully." Landis was scornful in the face of Johann's hasty self-deprecatory comment. Given that most of the populace were such blithering idiots, it annoyed him when those with actual intelligence downplayed it.

A pause. "If it would ease your mind," he suggested slowly, "We might substitute some kind of magical creature for a while." It would be more difficult to procure a goblin or centaur, some subhuman with enough intelligence and will to allow them to see the results of this spell as properly as it would show in a wizard. But on the other hand, a subhuman once taken aroused much less suspicion than a missing person as even muggles had networks for that sort of thing. If it would allow Johann to concentrate on his work, Landis was more than willing to compromise. He was not lying when he said that he preferred his translators with actual wit. He felt instinctively and disdainfully that any replacement would be of far lesser quality than the one he'd been given.

"Alright. We'll get a test subject."

"Now?" he asked, watching Johann closely. "I'll go." And go he did, rising at once from the table. He did not want to give Johann the opportunity to stare into the slack-jawed faces of their volunteers and suffer from another inexplicable attack of conscience. Before he disappeared out the door he threw back both a comment and a raised, expectant blond brow: "I'll meet you downstairs with him." Meaning, in the underground room Prideaux had had absolutely smothered in power-absorbing runes and other secret, silent spells.

"Now?"

Landis asked. Johann met his eyes and his mouth came open just a fraction as if to say 'when else?' But in truth he was always a little jumpy over the experimentation. Fascination overruled, a curiosity to be satisfied, but he flinched when spells were cast, even more so with the experimental and brutal effects of some of the work in the text.

"I'll go." There was no opportunity to disagree, and Johann watched him go, closing his lips and swallowing, his eyes were fascinated by the way Morgan moved around the room.

"I'll meet you downstairs with him."

"Yes." Johann replied, his voice a little lost, licking his lips and blinking, putting aside anything they wouldn't need, collecting together what they did. He quickly made a simple noted copy of the incantation to be tested, nothing more, to ensure that they did not remove the text from the room, and that there was no risk of its identification by the third party. If they survived.

Alone, he stood from the table, heart beating a little quicker, that feeling of exhilaration mixed with a feeling of dread - the same every time he agreed to meet Landis down there.

He drew his wand and bound the room as best he knew, descending with shorter, hurried paces down the stairs, his hands feeling ever so slightly clammy as he progressed, and his mouth dry. A couple of nights before he had dreamed of the very room he was heading for - and of Landis. Dreamt of being locked in there forever with no means of escape, confined there, of scratching at the walls with bloody hands, screaming without being heard.

Without realising Johann had paused on the stairs, the memory of the dream made him dizzy - the clamminess of his hands was now cold as he reached out to the wall to steady himself. Alighting at the room itself, the familiar tang of the air met his senses and what was left of the colour in his face drained as he surveyed the scene - which had been as clear as now in his dream.

Morgan and his subject were both reinforcements of his dread and also company that brought an element of relief. He found it hard to look at their subject with any commitment.   

"Here," He unrolled the parchment he had been carrying, meeting Morgan's gaze instead, though feeling rather sick. "Both versions as per 'perhaps'. Given your observation, the reverse order first, as it seemed most logical?" The repealing of incantations in the same order they were applied, like layers of a rather sinister cake.

"I am inclined to agree with your logic." He assured Morgan, maintaining eye contact, attempting to reassure the other man that he was still committed.

Their guest stood to the side, watching them. For Johann's benefit Landis had chosen the most placid of the lot, a heavyset wizard who seemed rather resigned to whatever had him in such a situation to be used. He showed not even a mild interest in what they wanted him to do, barely glancing up when Johann entered the room.

Landis, on the other hand, did glance up. Though Johann's complexion was normally pale to begin with, now his face held all the pallid color of a corpse. Landis took the scroll from him slowly, his gaze lingering for a long time on Johann's expression as if debating whether to question the man on it. In the end he decided he was willing to be convinced, and looked down and away to the equation they had put together. Whatever Johann was feeling today, Landis would have to trust that he would not let it impede his competency.

"Come." At his motion the man came over and had the scroll placed in his hands. "Like this, do you understand?" He demonstrated the wand movements with an outstretched finger, first clockwise, then in a sweeping motion down. "Then reversed. Practice until you have it as it is written here."

As their volunteer obediently began to follow the wand movements Johann had written down, Landis crushed against his palm the frost-pale wormwood leaves. He pressed his thumb, stained with the strong-smelling green juice of the broken leaves, against the man's forehead. He had the two small gold cups too which he pulled from his pocket and placed just before the volunteer's feet, laying them out as one might an offering and filling them with the remainder of the wormwood. These motions felt silly to him, relics of bygone centuries where considerably more focus was placed on the set-up of spells as well as ceremonial practices. They should be pointless to the modern wizard. But their dark researcher had stressed their use, and until he and Johann figured out exactly what the props did Landis did not dare to remove them from the process.

He corrected the turn of the man's wrist and watched him keenly for a moment. Then, satisfied, he bid him to try out the full incantation, speaking slowly and without his wand in his hand. He duplicated the scrolls and took one with him, leaving the volunteer the other to use.

Finally he stepped back to the farthest end of the room with Johann and cast between them and the third wizard so many warding and reflection spells that the air became hazy and thick, a wall between them palpable by its faint discoloration and the static charge of magic. At another motion the volunteer began to read and move his wand, and they two could follow along on their copy.

It seemed, just from the performance of it, to have no ill effects on the caster. This was the important distinction that would lead to one of them next casting it on the volunteer but for now, Landis simply watched to make sure.

It wasn't until he had rid himself of the parchment to Landis and retreated back towards their usual distance with his head lowered, that Johann afforded a look to their test subject. He didn't look particularly smart, he'd yet to meet one of them that did, and that was probably for the best.

He watched quietly, his hands behind him in the small of his back, finding the wall behind him to rest against for support. The way Morgan moved enough to crush the leaves in his palm caught his attention, and he stared without reservation at the process.

Everything was as writ, he committed to memory, though his own breath was a little quicker than usual, as if the room lacked air. Morgan's beautiful hands corrected the movement, and the man's gaze continued to watch their test subject keenly as he practised. He only broke his wondering gaze when Morgan walked towards him, and he lowered his face once more, realising his untempered stare.

Through the haze of the shield, the docile looking wizard cast without fear, and Johann concentrated keenly that it be done correctly - from where they were he could see no fault, though he winced at the point of casting, turning himself ever so slightly towards the wall behind them should Morgan's shields be broken.

But everything held fast, Johann opened his eyes again properly and let out a gasp of breath that had been caught in his throat.

"That way, then? The same logical order?" He queried, turning back properly to stand side by side with his colleague.

"As we thought, as seemed logical, no deviation, no change?" He sounded disbelieving, bringing both hands to his face, long fingers touching his clammy cheeks and descending slowly to the point of his chin where they joined in a prayer like gesture of worry.

"Though logic makes me believe it, our author's perhaps makes me doubt it ever so slightly." His gaze slid from the third wizard to Morgan beside him, and he swallowed.

"Risk it ourselves, or have him try the other way to prove the point?" He asked, but hardly waiting for the answer he turned on the spot, thinking out loud, eyes keen.

"Why the deviation, why the lack of commitment in the text? This is too obvious to be a purposeful mistake for him, surely?" He turned back to Morgan, hands splayed, weighing up the possibilities. His gut was uneasy.

Landis did not know, but nor did he allow himself to say that; instead he stood for several long minutes with his eyes narrowed and fixed on the hazy form of the third wizard as though wondering why the man did not suffer any physical symptoms of their collective uncertainty. Like Johann, he could not entirely accept their success - though where Johann's expression was disbelieving, his was suspicious.

Should the man try it the other way and have a bad reaction, they would have to go fetch another subject. That was little effort but worse was the notion that today of all days Johann would react poorly to trapspell-induced evisceration or muscles stripped of skin.

"It is too easy a thing to test to have earned that perhaps," Landis agreed. He did not turn his eyes from their experiment, and nor did he lower the warding shields. "You - " he spoke to the wizard beyond - "How do you feel?"

The wizard turned his head towards them.  Without further instruction, he had lapsed into inactivity. Now his voice was muffled somewhat by the spells between them, but still intelligible. "Sticky," he muttered, wiping at a thread of plant juice that coursed down his brow and onto his cheek.

"Sticky," Landis repeated flatly, the withering disdain in his voice rendering the little word as mildly offensive as something he might have found under the tread of his shoe. When the wizard just shrugged without elaborating he glanced to Johann with a Merlin-save-us-from-these-idiots sort of sidelong look that was clearly only one step short from rolling his eyes, a shared net cast out to the only other intelligent person in the room.

Fingertips still touching the tip of his chin, Johann's eyes and ears were trained on the guinea pig beyond the hazy shield.

"Sticky."

The pair of them shared a sidelong glance. Not the most descriptive of responses from their test subject, indeed.

"What is sticky?" Johann asked, raising his voice to the third man, a hint of panic in his tone. "Your skin, your face, from the plant? That was not a closed question…! What is your physical condition - fingertips, sensitivity, colour, bloodflow? Is your wand in same condition? Are you able to walk-"

Johann caught sight of Landis out of the corner of his eye and pressed his fingers to his own mouth, lowering his head, physically stopping himself from continuing his questioning. His mouth was running away with him due to his nerves at being in here.

The third man had turned round to regard them again, and was staring at Johann like he might a fellow drinker at the bar who had just irritated him. That he might plant his fist into later if Johann continued. Not for the first time, he was glad there was a barrier between them

"Height of physical perfection." The man referred, gesturing with the hand he did not hold his wand in, to his physical form with mild sarcasm, and instead looked to Landis as the sensible one rather than the gibbering foreigner.

Johann let out a quiet hrrmph and shuffled his feet, folding his arms across his chest, licking his lips.
"Easier to extract an answer from his head with legilimency." He turned his head cautiously to regard the former unspeakable, "Something you could do?"

Words bubbled out of his partner in nervous jitters; Landis, having placed Johann in the wide mental category of "odd" some time ago to excuse most of his behaviors, ignored it with aplomb. Not for Johann the withering stare or twisted sneer, the little "pull yourself together for Merlin's sake" furrow of Landis' brows or any other physical cues to act as both reprimand and reminder. He would mention this to Vedir, and no more. Perhaps, out of respect, he would wait one more meeting before reporting to see if Johann settled again. For now he had resolved to overlook it, some slim thing one would be reluctant to call kindness. Landis did enough babysitting in his day job for the idea to hold any appeal for him now.

"No," he said, answering Johann's cautious look. "That is not one of my skills." Landis did rather wish it was, but there in his personality lay his biggest crutch: his extreme paranoia could not tolerate the idea of anyone in his head, even another criminal, even long enough to be taught a skill he very much coveted.

He favored the subject with a long intent look of complete scrutiny, burning a path with his gaze from scuffed shoes to the very crown of his head. He LOOKED no different, and from the thick glance of irritation he'd cast Johann he felt no differently either. Still Landis hesitated to lower the wards and take over the caster's role. It was too easy, and suspicion writhed like a nest of snakes in the back of his mind, many-headed and difficult to kill.

This dark wizard they emulated had had a vicious and highly developed paranoia of his own. Landis could understand. So when a trickle of something darker than crushed plant trickled from the man's nose, he was not surprised. He was almost relieved.  The subject gave a surprised sudden hacking cough, broad hands coming up to cover his mouth. There was in it the sound of liquid death. When he sank ponderously to one knee, Landis stepped casually sideways to block Johann's view and continued to watch intently as the man bent over and proceeded to pour out a slimy mix of acidic food waste and blood. Within minutes he was coughing up helpless lengths of his own internal linings. Save for the ugly endless gagging and the occasional drawn out depths-of-his-being groan, he was quiet. Refreshingly without any jarring animal screams. Possibly in shock. Landis took mental notes for Johann, intrigued. He had not known it was possible to make one lose organs from this end. There was usually so much viscera in the way.

Unfortunately legilimency was not one of Landis Morgan's many talents. Although mildly disappointed, Johann was a little relieved to know that there was limits to Morgan's skills. He was an incredible, talented wizard, and every time they met, Johann was in awe.

Their gaze returned to the man beyond the shield who continued to regard them with that same peeved expression which had remained from Johann's questions. As they stared, he began to have a nosebleed, and then coughed, his eyes showing something less than the rude bill of health a moment before.

As Morgan stepped before Johann, he just caught sight of their subject falling from his upright state, and the fear set in immediately into the German. He couldn't breathe, he forgot momentarily of the barrier between them all as he stared in horror of what he could see past Morgan, and then from the frozen horror he turned, trying to flee - bolting towards the door - which was sealed, and meeting it with this shoulder which hurt.

Looking back, Morgan had not moved from where he was observing the death of their subject. He wasn't moving to help, he didn't try to save the man, he just watched. It was cold, unemotional and downright petrifying - he was locked in a room with this wizard and he was frightened.

"Merlin..." Johann uttered - no voice just whisper, feeling cold all over. His knees defied him, feeling wobbly beneath him as he clutched fruitlessly at the door with one hand and stared back. "He's dead - please say he's not still alive like that." He hadn't even taken a proper look.

As his knees finally gave up and he sank towards the ground however, he saw what remained, and turned away, retching in the corner, though nothing but bile became of it, rather the opposite of the fate of the man who had retorted dryly to him moments before.

"How - how can you watch?" Johann asked, appalled, crouched facing the corner, wiping his mouth with his sleeve like a child, shaking. He wouldn't forget this scene in a hurry. It would form the basis of recurring nightmares of this room.

"You didn't help him!" Neither had Johann, but he didn't consider himself half the wizard Morgan was.