Friday, August 5th
9:16 PM

The rising sun had been starting to break through the clouds when he'd headed in to the Ministry that morning, but by the time he left that evening, night had given way to a light rain.  There was just over a week left until the next full moon, which meant that his routine was starting to take a turn towards longer shifts.  Even during relatively quiet spurts like the one they'd benefitted from lately, there was plenty to organize and coordinate leading up to the fulcrum of the lunar cycle.  But the past few days, with the sudden new wave of Dementor attacks, he had had to deal with fighting for resources on top of putting plans in place to ensure that as many people as possible made it through the next full moon.

The air had a heavy, humid feel to it, as if the rain starting now were only a harbinger of the coming front.  The wet cobblestones glistened under his boots as Kurby turned down Knockturn Alley, the drops beginning to beat a steady pattern around him.  Today had been a particularly long day, but it had given him something to fill the time, and he had been determined not to deal with any Ministry work on Saturday.  Better to spend the day as close as he could get to not thinking, holed up in his flat away from the whole rest of the world.

This was his last stop on the way home.  The werewolf hunter tried to time his visits here to later in the evening: partially because he knew the owner was likely to be working late, and partially because she didn't need any more attention forced on her due to associations with the Ministry.  It was for that reason, too, that he ducked around the back of the shop, keeping the hood of his cloak up until he was out of sight of the main road.  In Knockturn, even this late at night, there were always likely to be eyes watching.

The bottom floor of the Sellaphix Apothecary was dark and still.  Far above on the second floor, a small light shone through a tiny window.  Clearly, he wasn't the only one who liked to work late on a Friday night.

Tugging the leather glove off his right hand, he bent down, feeling around on the ground for a pebble.  His fingers closed around one before too long.  Straightening again, Kurby took a moment to gauge the distance, and then tossed the small rock at the window on the second floor.

tink.

Zelda glanced up. Something had hit the little window. It was one of those very old ones with the thick, uneven glass panes. A knock at the door - that would have alarmed her. But a polite little tap at her second story window? There didn't seem to be anything about that to set her on alert.

She set down her book and glasses, took the two steps to the window, and swung it open. (It hinged at the top so it could be propped up in the rain.)

"Who goes there?" she asked down into the very tight alley of an alley, the old buildings leaning in towards each other. But she knew exactly who she was looking at. She smiled just a little.

"Kurby Bagnold. Hang on."

She shut the window and made her way down the wrought iron staircase into the shop, then through a narrow corridor to The Back.  The back door was ancient, and painted over many times. There had once been a little window, but it had since been covered over.  She undid the seven locks one by one, and cracked open the door.

"Come in then."

Even though he was a grown wizard a decade now, she still remembered him on her back stoop as a young boy.  She was still holding back a full smile, but that was about as emotive as she ever was. And glad she really was to see him. She'd never admit it, but she was lonely and had been feeling out of sorts last day or two.

She stepped out of the way as he entered. The passage was cramped, so she led the way out into the store. Everything was tucked in for the night. 

"A drink?"

It didn't take long for the locks to begin to click, one by one, and then for the door to open a crack.  Kurby stepped inside, flashing the woman a quick smile as he tugged off his other glove.  Folding it with the other, he shoved the pair of them deep into the pocket of his cloak, silver rings flashing on his fingers as he did so. 

Even with the rain pattering outside, his cloak was completely dry, protected by an Impervius charm to ward off any water.  Kurby shrugged it off, pondering Zelda's question for a moment as he slung it over his shoulder.  It was already getting late, but the longer he stayed out tonight, the less time he'd hypothetically be awake the next day, and the less he'd have to deal with anything.

"Cheers," he said, following as she led the way through the narrow corridor into the main room of the shop.  "Sorry to drop in so late."

He wasn't really, and they both knew it.  Plenty of the Apothecary's customers had reason not to want to shop at a business frequented by Ministry employees.  Unlike the idiotic red-robed Aurors who preferred to make a dramatic scene everywhere they went, Kurby kept his visits discreet.  Zelda Sellaphix didn't need him to invite any more trouble to her.

Sellaphix Apothecary had always seemed so impressive when he'd been a kid, with its towering main room and wrought-iron balconies that stretched far above his head.  They'd seemed to have everything; any kind of ingredient or item that his mother could name, and the young couple who ran it were always businesslike, polite and direct with his mother.  Even today, Kurby couldn't help but glance upwards as they stepped into the main room, surveying the high ceiling.

"How's business been?" he asked, looking for an appropriate place to abandon his cloak.

"Bah."  Was Zelda's response to Kurby's polite apology for the hour.

She set them up at the front counter. She lit the lantern that swung overhead in the alcove, which was honeycombed with little nooks and cubbies, tiny drawers and slots. Out from one such cranny she produced a long tall bottle of icy cold uzo.

It had been a gift from one of her Cyprus suppliers. Uzo was best served cold, and the bottle it came in was enchanted to do exactly that. She poured into two small jars. The outsides immediately began to crackle with frost.

"Bah." Was her response to Kurby's next question.  She took a sip of the gin as punctuation.

And then, "not terrible actually. Hired a kid the other day. Just to keep the cobwebs away and handle some of the deliveries. He's not dim and doesn't seem to have any debts to crime lords, so that's an improvement. And that arrived."

She pointed out into the shop where three large crates were stacked. "Haven't unpacked it yet, but it's the best dittany I've ever seen."  Zelda smiled at that as well. Old friends and damn good dittany were apparently some of her favorite things.

Usually, he'd ask a few more questions before drinking anything given to him by a potion supplier, but he trusted Zelda Sellaphix.  Kurby picked up the small jar, holding it under his nose for a moment to get a whiff of the alcohol before raising it to take a sip.  It tasted strongly like anise and licorice, almost like absinthe that lacked the floral notes of wormwood.

He took it as a good sign, if she had hired on a kid to help out around the shop.  Zelda had never replaced the dogsbody that had worked there before, after he'd turned in Rafe and gotten his boss arrested.  Kurby had assumed it had been because the apothecary couldn't afford it, but the hiring freeze could have also been due to Zelda's unwillingness to trust an outsider after Briggs' betrayal.  Either way, it was likely positive news if she was hiring on help.

He'd followed her direction as she pointed at the crates.  Hearing what was inside, he cracked a grin.

"Convenient,"  he remarked, arching a brow.  "That was one of the things I was hopin' to take off your hands." 

Good dittany was hard to come by.  Along with being an important ingredient in healing potions, it was also the best treatment they had for werewolf bites when mixed with powdered silver.  Technically, the healers from St. Mungo's were supposed to be available to deal with any wounds that WCU members suffered in the field, but the reality was that it often took too long for them to be summoned to the scene during a full moon.

Kurby nodded to the crates.  "What are you pricin' it at?" he asked, as he raised the small, icy jar to take another sip.  "That must be a lot to move locally, especially if it's high quality."

Zelda was about to respond in the affirmative about the complexity of moving that much dittany, but without warning she felt an almost...screaming in her head! It was a high-pitched wail between her hears.  She moaned and grabbed her head with both hands, her face wrenched up in pain.

She had no idea what it was! Only that it had happened earlier in the day in front of a customer. She'd laughed it off as 'oh, must have inhaled too much Dragon Oil', but she had been shaken. She'd never felt anything like it before, or indeed heard of anyone else describing it.  Had she been cursed? Poisoned?

Last time it lasted for only a second or two, but the seconds were ticking by and the angry, shrill cacophony in her brain wasn't letting up. She sank down, only her elbows on the counter keeping her from the floor.

One moment, Zelda had been smiling to herself about the quality of her dittany supply, and the next, she let out a sudden moan and grabbed for her head, looking like she was about to double over.  It took an instant for Kurby to snap out of his surprise and react.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed.  In one smooth motion, he deposited the small mug on the counter top and moved behind Zelda, putting an arm around her to help hold her up.

What the hell?  All at the same time, he tried to quickly look her over, hold her upright, and also scan the store, just to make sure that they hadn't been unexpectedly ambushed and this wasn't some sort of curse.  But he hadn't seen any sign of movement, hadn't detected any sort of spell being cast.  What the hell was wrong?  Was this some sort of bad reaction with a potion ingredient?

It didn't so much stop as fade gradually away. She took a deep breathe, like the gasp for air after you'd been under water. Kurby was holding her up. She flushed with embarrasment and gently shrugged him off. But she felt unsteady and so allowed him to keep her arm.

"That was unpleasant," she said. She took the cup of ouzo and downed the rest of it in one go. She felt the chill in her stomach.

Then she pointed and snapped her fingers, not at all shy about setting sweet Kurby on a task. She was frightened now. No more ignoring it.

"There, in that case. Bezoar. And some of the dittany."

If she was poisoned, she was going to find out.

The werewolf hunter stepped back, his brows knitted as Zelda shrugged him off.  Even now that she was no longer doubling over, she still seemed shaky.  He'd seen plenty of afflictions before, but although magic could inflict pain quickly, usually it came with some sort of hint as to a cause.

Unpleasant seemed like an understatement, but finishing off the rest of the uzo was certainly called for under the circumstances.

Kurby didn't hesitate as Zelda gave him directions.  After a split second's pause to make sure she was capable of standing on her own, he swooped down to search through the case, surfacing with a small, stone-like object.  He very nearly tossed it to her, but thought better of it at the last moment, choosing instead to deposit it on the counter near her before making a beeline to the crates.

"You okay?" he asked, a frown crossing his face.  He used his wand to vanish the lid of the crate, revealing fresh dittany sprigs inside.  "You're not lettin' that new kid mix the potions already, are you?"

Zelda refilled the ouzo, and without hesitation swallowed the bezoar, chasing it with the ice cold liquor. She made a face as she forced it down. "Merlin's bones!"

Kurby's comment about her new dogsbody Chance actually got a cough of laughter from her. "No! He's only just earned broom privileges."

But it was a fair question. She'd hired him the morning all this started: Third of August. He was a good lad, though, and unless he was a some kind of master assassin trained from birth to target shopkeeprs, she couldn't imagine he'd have done anything on purpose, and under her watchful eye, she's not sure what blunder he could have made that would put her in this state.

But to his question: "You okay?"

"I'm honestly not sure." A rare statement of vulnerability from Zelda Sellaphix. But she trusted Kurby more than most, despite his unfortunate employment affiliation.

She beckoned for the fresh dittany sprigs. When he brought them, she set about making another cleansing potion with mortar and pestle, small silver cauldron, and a moonstone. Kurby was kind enough to fetch her reagents she didn't have on hand at the counter. She explained while she worked.

"This is not the first time it's happened. Happened this morning. Not as bad. And I think it's what woke me up Wednesday night. I'd thought it was a nightmare but I..."

She tried to recall that rainy autumn night, but it was a fog. She knew she'd gone back to bed, and that she'd woke up feeling out of sorts. But didn't think of it.

Kurby regarded her silently for a moment, furrowing his brow, clearly processing this information.  Three instances, now. 

Three wasn't an instance.  Three was a pattern.

Pattern of what, though, he wasn't certain.  Zelda Sellaphix had seemed to be suddenly struck by pain, and this was the worst of the three occasions, by her telling.  That meant it was getting worse.  Nearly doubling over like that wasn't a usual sort of behavior; it was a reaction to something, but Zelda herself didn't seem to know what.

Mentally, he began to run through the checklist.  They weren't anywhere near the full moon, so it likely had nothing to do with his usual first thought.  This didn't seem to be the standard sort of reaction to suffering from the Imperius curse.   It might be some sort of negative reaction to a potion gone wrong, or some other sort of curse, but as far as what it was...

"You think maybe you should drop by St. Mungo's?" Kurby asked carefully.  He knew what the answer was going to be, but it seemed like the sort of thing to say at a moment like this.  He shrugged.  "I'm sure as hell not a fan of the healers, but if something's wrong, they might have an idea of what's causin' it."

Shortly, Zelda had a watery pungent potion swirling in a vial.  She held it up to the light, checking that the sediment had settled.

Kurby suggested St. Mungos. She paused to give him a long look. 

"Really."

St. Mungo's Hospital, psh, you spent all your time waiting just to hear some brand new Healer try everything you'd already tried and by the end of it you had your original symptoms plus a pain in your arse. She didn't have time for the hospital. Zelda had bills to pay.

As she reached for a clean glass, she nearly dropped it. It felt for a moment that her hand had gone numb. It gave her a moment's pause, but quickly attributed the fumble to the bezoar. Or ouzo. Or nerves.

She took her remedy, then moved to the staircase to have a seat.

"You're right. I'll go," she said. "I'll go to St. Mungo's, just not yet. With the bezoar and that dittany - I've probably blitzed it. I'll have some orange juice at breakfast. Bit overkill really."

Zelda glanced up at him, trying to read his face.

He usually didn't have reason to keep his expression this guarded around Zelda Sellaphix, not unless they were discussing his choice of career.  Unlike others, Zelda didn't pry.  And in return, he did his best to return the favor and not intrude upon her private dealings, either.

Promising that she'd go to St. Mungo's in the morning was as good as denying his suggestion entirely.  He understood, and he couldn't blame her.  Mungo's was as much a part of the magical world's establishment as the Ministry, and Zelda had no reason to trust either.  If she'd agreed to go with only minimal hesitation, then he really would have been worried about her.  As it was, even that slight chance of acceptance left him more than a bit concerned.

He raised his eyebrows at her, as if to say, Will you?, and then glanced away again.  At least the fresh supply of dittany gave him an excuse to drop in and check on her again for a second night.

"If something like it happens again, send me an owl."  He left it more as direction than as an offer.  With Rafe still in Azkaban, and with her oldest son messing around at the Daily Prophet, Zelda didn't have many people to look after her.  "I ought to drop in on the Creatures ward, anyway."

Zelda didn't have anyone taking care of her, and that usually suited her just fine. But tonight, it was good to know that at least she had wee Kurby, who wasn't afraid of anything.  That's what she needed: someone wouldn't make a fuss.

"Sure," she agreed, fully intending to send that owl. If this happened again.

"Why?"

She heard her voice before she even thought to ask the question. She didn't ask after his work usually, and so why had she just now? But now she was curious.

"Who're you going to see on the Creatures Ward?"

The speed at which she acquiesced to his charge did nothing to calm his sense of disquiet.  But then, it was already clear that Zelda was concerned that something was wrong.  Kurby pressed his mouth shut for a moment, but he resolved to let it go.  It would be easy enough to come up with an excuse or two to drop in later this week, even beyond the dittany.  If he had to, he could always press his younger sister Rosheen into service.

Zelda's next question nearly made him blink in surprise.  It was rare that the older woman asked about his work; on the rare occasions that it did come up, if he dropped in too close to a full moon or let something slip about a recent adversary, she usually didn't need any more than a silent, hard look to make her disapproval clear.

"Just...you know," he replied, frowning.  He hadn't really thought through the excuse, beyond that it was one, but there was enough of a routine in place to fake it.  "Check their list against the registry.  Make sure nothing's amiss with their distribution of Wolfsbane potion."