The staff meeting had dissolved and Sid, quite content he had no particular duty to any of the students, had been moderately quick to retreat. The Heads of House had their jobs to do, and he - inexperienced with both teaching and Hogwarts' changed ways - saw little ways he could be of direct use. He left the meeting alongside the others, but moved without their senses of purpose.

He doubted any student would run to him for assurance; they hardly knew him. Besides, he could hardly give them more assurance than someone like Maiko or Trishna or, hells, even Landis could. What could he say? They were as safe in their towers as they could be anywhere else.

But habit was what it was: He'd quickly decided to see if he couldn't decipher more of his visions now that at least one of the incidents he'd felt had occurred. Visions were all too often a matter of working backwards, fitting the puzzle to the pieces.

It was tempting - too tempting - to seek visions via his usual tactics. He found himself compulsively rubbing his hands together as he walked and was soon digging his nails into his palm til he nearly drew blood. His answers could come from orbs, from books...or from the point of the needle. The needle was too tempting, too familiar. He felt shaky, unfounded and rather vulnerable the longer he took between doses. And try as he might the results of scrying, of tea-reading...they were just never as accurate -

Absorbed in his thoughts, he hadn't processed that Landis hadn't split away from him. The man walked a short distance behind even as Sid began to head away from the dungeons the Slytherins called home.

"Lost, Landis?" he asked, innocently. Darian's cousin was always so appealingly dour, especially in crises; watching him snap at his colleges had made Sid wonder just how delightfully uptight the younger man really was.

Landis walked behind the other, his steps quiet and his gaze watchful. Though he was making no effort to hide his presence Blackburn did not notice him for the longest time. Landis took the opportunity to examine his behavior, the white knuckles, the antsy rubbing of hands. No doubt Sid was preoccupied by thoughts of his next fix. Honestly, the laxness of Hogwarts' hiring practices had become downright depressing. It didn't take an extensive network to know how Europe's favorite Seer encouraged his visions. Landis could have informed Ignan, or whomever had done the hiring; growing up with Blackburn in the periphery of his friends' circle had wholly acquainted him with the other's personal tastes.

But now that Sid was actually here, Landis didn't dare to try and get him fired: Sid had some knowledge of Landis' extracurriculars too, though his own youthful indiscretions had tended less towards mind-altering substances and more towards forays into organized crime (or, well, both). He was stuck with Blackburn in one small castle. The most he could do at this point was brace himself for Blackburn's inevitable innuendos. And make the experience for the other as hideously unpleasant as he could, of course.

Eventually Sid twigged to his presence. "What an asinine thing to say. I wish to discuss the meeting..." Landis let his eyes drift pointedly to Sid's hands, which were visibly less than steady. "That is, if I'm not keeping you from something."

Sid stopped and turned to face him, then, wry smirk quickly overshadowing the worried look he'd borne before. "And yet you waited this long to speak," he observed dryly, eyes intent. "Perhaps you merely wanted me alone." He made a show of examining his nails (perfect, of course; that he bit them in his withdrawls was something he had to carefully hide) before he looked up at Landis again, expression a bit more serious.

A bit, anyhow. Darian's cousin was just so tempting to prod. He was something of a magnetic landmine - it'd end in tears but he just couldn't resist the occasional kick. That ironclad pride demanded dents.

"Well, then, what is it that demands such pause, patatino?" The Italian nickname rolled off his tongue, plucked and teasing.

"Obviously. There are some things I assumed you'd prefer our colleagues not to know." Landis did not speak Italian. He ignored the term, instead eyeing Sid as though internally debating whether this discussion was worth the aggravation. He was critical of divination anyhow, certain that most of Sid's career was prettily-worded bullshit, but in his past experience with the man there had occasionally been accurate predictions. He suspected that Ira Almasy would know who might have motive for such a kidnapping; she held a long-lived reputation for both canniness and excellent contacts. But if she would not assist him, which was entirely possible, even the ramblings of an inconstant Seer became helpful.

He regarded Sid for a moment before speaking again, pale eyes cold and faintly distrustful. Flatly he offered, "I can provide you with potions to make you See."

Sid leaned on the cool stone wall behind him, interest firmly perked now. Oh, so he did want to discuss something sordid. Landis so rarely dissapointed him; he was entertaining in all his flavors. Especially the sour ones.

He watched the man with half-lidded eyes and wondered, not for the first time, if the man tasted different now that he was married. As a teenager Landis had been just a bit more ...adventurous. Mayhap he could coax that streak free again - even if it was for only one night, Darian'd owe him his weight in galleons if he pulled it off.

But students were missing, so that wasn't the best thng to focus on...for now. He smiled, drumming his fingers on the stone.

"Do you now," he said. "And here I'd have thought you'd annouce such a discovery." A potion that'd activate visions would be worth a fortune. He couldn't imagine Landis sitting on that. "How illegal is it, then?"

Now it was Landis' turn to look overly casual as he laced his arms across his chest. "It occupies what you might call a legal grey zone," he admitted airily, cool as one pleased - as if he hadn't just turned his head to confirm that the corridor was empty before he spoke. "Officially the Ministry funds all research done by the DoM, but if a failed project found its way onto the market the pool of suspects would be rather slim." Landis had worked with experimental spells and potions for his time in the Department of Mysteries. Frankly he missed it, and during particularly trying detentions thought wistfully of the DoM's isolated offices and ever-pervasive hush. "Hallucinations were not the intended effect. On test subjects the experience seemed to be quite... unpleasant. But I'm certain that if anyone could make use of it, it would be you, the celebrated Seer. After all, times are desperate." The icy facade cracked. It was just the barest corner of his mouth, but Landis was definitely smirking.

A legal grey zone.

Sid's expression, for once, said exactly what he was thinking: Landis had never been on the straight and narrow. Even working for the DoM had likely just been another criminal avenue. And no doubt this potion, whatever it was, was just as questionable as whatever Landis was up to in his free time nowadays.

Still...it wasn't his usual methodology, and to that Sid had to quietly admit some interest. He'd never been blessed with easy visions, like some Seers. His inner eye didn't open unless coaxed, and what he'd been using before had been far from safe. How much worse could some unapproved experimental potion be?

...well, when he put it like that, it could be a lot worse. But Sid tilted his head to the side and smiled nonetheless, intrigued despite himself.

"Aren't they, though," he said, golden eyes half-lidded. "How can I say no to a man so desperate to find his missing students? Lead on, Mister Morgan."

Landis held up a hand to forestall him. "Not now. Tonight." He needed to check and ensure that his sample had retained its properties in stasis. It had been almost a year since he'd last brewed it (although he couldn't use it recklessly for fear of it being traced back to him, Landis had to admit to a certain retained curiosity that called for experimentation whenever he had time). If the sample was inactive, he'd have to rebrew it - though he hoped not, since the brewing process took at least 12 hours and had to simmer another 3 days before it'd be viable. "I'll have to observe to ensure you don't have an... excessively adverse reaction. It's best done overnight when neither of us are likely to be called upon for staff duties."

And he had duties to attend to in the meanwhile, anyhow - students to calm, owls to be sent. And he'd need an excuse for Juliette if he wasn't spending the night in their quarters. Not for the first time, he wondered whether he could tell her the truth (however shady it might be). Knowingly poisoning another professor might actually be a more soothing explanation than anything she might imagine him getting up to with Blackburn.

Not now. Well, perhaps that was for the best, for Sid at least - it gave him plenty of time to change his mind. He couldn't quite resist the urge to smirk, misgivings or no; that Landis wanted to meet him alone at night was delicious. Just what would he tell his wife? 'Later, dear, I'm off to poison the Divination professor?' Unlikely. Sid doubted Landis was that honest with his wife - had he been, there was no way they'd have married.

Sid made a note to write to Darian, so that should he die it would be both tragic and endlessly scandalous for Landis.

"Very well. I will be working, in the meantime." He slithered just a mite closer, still at the respectful distance - but his shoulders tilted just so, his smile too close to a coy, seductive smirk for comfort. His yellow eyes grew heavy and half-lidded. "Do come and fetch me when you're ready, Mister Morgan. I look forward to it."