Rain drizzled down through the cold air and Moira stepped out of the rain and into the Sellaphix Apothecary mid-morning. Glad to see it was open for business she glanced around the entryway, searching for an Hours of Operation sign for future reference. Assuming Bagnold was correct when he mentioned the shop's 'hard to find' ingredients two nights ago[1] there was a chance she would be coming back here again and not because she and Figaro were on friendly, non-dating terms.

Normally at this time of day when she wasn't at the Wentworth Menageries Moira would be going over all the animals on their property checking for any new injuries, sickness, or getting updates on those that had been sick or injured. It was a huge job and depending how the wellness checks went a good portion of the day could be gone very quickly.

However, a month had passed since Sasha had surprised her with a cottage to call home (it had been delivered to a secluded area of their property) and the only furnished room it had still was the bathroom. The obvious room to furnish next was the kitchen at the very least. Supper was still held at the main residence, the only time her family could all sit down together except when she worked super late. On those days either her uncle or dad cooked and she ate whatever was left, if anything.

Having an idea in her head what she wanted for the kitchen made looking through the furniture stores easy and not as time consuming as might be normal. It was the third store she tried that had what she wanted. Now the small table, two chairs, and assortment of kitchen items were shrunk and stored in her bag until she got home.

Being out and about anyway Moira decided to stop by the Apothecary as well. A list of ingredients was in her pocket, easier to remember everything that way.

Pulling her hood down off her head and looked around a little, not touching anything. It was a cozy establishment, and they certainly did seem to have an assortment of items for sale. Even if all of what she needed couldn't be found here other possibilities were opening. At least until she could establish her own herbal garden better, anyway.

1.

Time Out

Things were finally starting to feel normal again. Zelda and her husband had fallen back into their easy rhythm, running the shop together, keeping tabs on the boys. Yesterday really was the last piece of business when Zelda and Rafe went up to Hogwarts to see their youngest Frank, to reveal that his dad had been released from Azkaban two years early. Zelda and Rafe had always traded Sundays. It was usually a slow day, and whoever was home could get caught up on sleep or errands.

The dreary morning changed the glow of natural light that streamed in from two stories of front windows. Everything was cast in blue and grey lights and shadows. Zelda had stoked a fire in the fireplace and moved the live fire crabs nearby to keep them cozy. She appeared in the shop from the back, wiping her hands on a rag and talking to Mrs. Gracklehorn.

"I'd give them a few more days, Mrs. Gracklehorn. I dug one up and they're all still too firm. I can owl you when they're ready?"

Mrs. Gracklehorn agreed, offered a cheery greeting and brushed past Moira on her way out.

"Can I help you?" Zelda asked on her way to the counter where she intended to write a reminder about Mrs. Gracklehorns bubotubers. She glanced up at Moira then. She was young and Zelda didn't recognize her.

"Are you lost?"

Moira glanced over as two women came out from the back, one of whom was clearly the customer and the other she had to assume was Figaro's mom. Mrs. Sellaphix had the appearance of someone who had seem some hard years but still doing well. If she wasn't mistaken, the older witch had been in the hospital not too long ago though she was unsure of why specifically. Now she appeared healthy and not unhappy. It was probably nice having her husband back home too.

What were the proper procedures for meeting the mother of friend you went to school with? Did she start off with 'Hi, I know your son', or 'A mate of your family pointed me in this direction while we were drinking the other night'? Maybe things should be kept strictly business, both of those greetings sounded like garbage. Seeking such rare and specific ingredients, though, could cause others to doubt her intentions. Then there was her age, being so young was sometimes off-putting to others.

Realizing the owner had asked her something and was still waiting on her answer, Moira shook herself out of her thoughts, "Yes. No. I mean... Sorry. I'm not lost." She focused properly.

Unless someone was hiding in the back, they were alone. "I was told you have ingredients here that are hard to come by." Moira approached the counter, pulling the folded note out of her pocket. "I was wondering if maybe you had some of these?"

Should she have started with her name? Too late now.

Something about the young witch was ... unsteady. She might not think so, but sweet girl like this in a Knockturn Alley apothecary which had a certain reputation, yes - she was lost. But Zelda couldn't afford to turn anyone away. She lifted an eyebrow and took the note.

"Hard to come by," she echoed what was a euphemism in many mouths. "And of the finest quality."

Zelda was a skilled herbalist and her husband Rafe an excellent potioneer. They were able to buy many ingredients in their unprocessed state and prepare them for sale themselves. That kept them more potent, and the profit margin was much higher.  She took great pride in that. Also, in discretion. It was easy enough to suspect this little witch was working for Level Two, especially now Rafe was out of Azkaban. The Sellaphixes still had their secrets and Zelda would guard them.

She looked down at the note and then back up at the witch.

"What are you going to do with all this? Who referred you?"

Zelda wouldn't have asked most anyone else. Her customers appreciated that. If they wanted to talk and collaborate, she let them make the first move. Rafe, well, he was more chatty, but not Zelda. But the girl looked Figaro's age and, to say again, out of place here.

The older witch looked doubtful, even a touch suspicious. Moira couldn't blame her for that. Walking down the alley she had seen several people of questionable character skulking about. They all had given her odd looks, which she had ignored or given cool looks in return when necessary, such as the one lady who had stepped in her path to help the 'lost lamb'. Moira's impassioned stare and "don't screw with me" body language had effectively caused the woman to let her pass.

Moira watched Mrs. Sellaphix look down at her note then back to her. Answering the first question was easy enough. "I'm training as a magizoologist. I need them for remedial concoctions and balms." She had gone over the phrase a couple times on her way to the shop just to make sure it made sense.

The second question was also easy so long as the woman didn't ask why. "Kurby Bagnold." Referred was a bit strong of a word, though. Really he had just said his family bought non-specified and difficult ingredients from the Sellaphixes when he was a child. Close enough.

Moira didn't think the owner would turn away her business. Hearing the name of her referral might not be as beneficial as the young witch hoped. Or everything could be fine. Perhaps Fig's mom would verify with Bagnold first. The latter wouldn't be ideal but not the end of the world if she did.

The stern and suspicious witch's face slowly illuminated with an uncommon smile, a smile reserved for her husband, her boys, and yes, for wee Kurby Bagnold. There was no clean and clear line connecting the Sellaphixes' adopted shopkid with this eighteen-year-old magizoloologist-in-training, but if ever anyone was going to claim Kurby Sent Them it would be someone unexpected like this.

Zelda laughed to herself and said, "sure he did. Come on then."

It seemed that Zelda had warmed instantly, like an enchanted cup of tea. She moved towards the front of the shop where she had thick bundles of herbs hanging in the light of the window. "It's good you came here first," she said and pulled down a strong-smelling spray of leaves. "This was the best of last season's. Should be just about perfect now."

She held the dried plant out for Moira to take. "You look about my son's age."

Moira observed the older witch as her face relaxed into a smile and a short laugh followed, seeming to brighten the entire shop. Her choice of words and tone suggested disbelief yet the new warmth remained. Following Zelda as requested Moira felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease. This excursion wouldn't be so bad after all.

Accepting the bundle the wix inhaled the aroma coming from the leaves. Enjoying nature as she did, the scents from different plants was soothing and spoke volumes about their health. Of course, doubt to the shopkeeper's claim never entered her mind. This kind of establishment wasn't run on ingredients of poor quality.

Guessing which son she meant wasn't hard. The witch certainly didn't mean Fig's younger brother. "Aye, we were in the same year." And House. They hadn't talked much until recently and she still wasn't quite sure how her fellow alumni had managed starting them on the path towards friendship.

She looked up, meeting Zelda's gaze. "I'm Moira McBoid by the way."

Zelda took another one of her long looks at Moira McBoid, another attempt to place her. No, Figaro hadn't ever mentioned her that she could remember. She seemed like the solitary sort, so perhaps that was it. But Moira seemed to appreciate the herbs; a feeling Zelda could relate too. There was little better than the good gifts of the magic earth and the fruits of careful labor.

"McBoid. I can't say Figaro's mentioned you, but he's not exceptionally forth-coming." Like many boys his age. Even her youngest Frank was more and more tight-lipped about his personal life.

"Upstairs for the tincture."

Zelda led the way up to the old wrought iron staircase that would up to the open second level. The brick wall was indented with shelving nooks and a bank of them held a glittering and refracting array of glass bottles of all sizes and shapes, filled with all manner of substances. Some were clear, others nearly opaque. Some had bits floating on top or suspended evenly like the sky full of stars. Some seemed to glow on their own.

"Mr. Sellaphix has been 're-arranging'. Help me look."

Zelda picked through the bottles. Her husband was home again, and had clearly been rooting around in the inventory. He wasn't always careful to put things back where they belonged.

As they looked, Zelda became more conversational. "So, what are you making? In particular?"

When Figaro was mentioned, Moira glanced over. She went to school with the witch's son, it was only natural she would try to recollect her son ever mentioning the new customer. "No, he wouldn't have. We didn't talk much at school." Fig had tried talking to her in his enthusiastic way in their first year. Beyond staring at him Moira didn't give much of a response. He quit trying soon after and her goal had been accomplished. They both had come a long way since then but that was a tale best not repeated.

Following the owner up the stairs Moira's gaze drifted over everything again. Hearing the request to help she set the herbs on one of the ledges and began searching through the bottles with the older witch. While hunting she found herself putting any stray bottles with those that shared a likeness in purpose. Of course, she didn't know what they all were. Those she had to leave alone if there were no other bottles with the exact same label in a group.

The next question was easy enough to answer, nothing too nefarious about it. Focused on her task Moira answered, "Mixtures for poultices and balms. Mostly for cuts and abrasions." Those wounds were the most common among the herd, anyway.

Not talking much in school? Zelda smiled to herself. That had to have been accomplished entirely on Moira's part. Many of Figaro's other friends had been in and out of their house in Marylebone and here in the shop over summers and holidays. Another glance at Moira confirmed that she hadn't been among the parade.

"Hmm," was all the terse Zelda Sellaphix said.

When Moira revealed more detail as to her purpose, Zelda paused in her search and looked at Moira. "For you or for the animals?"

Zelda really did try not to be noisy, but she'd never made any vows against providing her opinion and leveraging her expertise. Moira wasn't just any customer. She was a young witch with only as many years in the world as her son. Moira clearly had more sense than Figaro, but was fresh from school and might benefit from some guidance. She waited for the answer, with a falcon's gaze.

Moira glanced over at the slight change in her tone, nothing accusatory, and sharp glance. Hopefully her next answer would assuage any concerns.

"The animals. I've never studied wix physiology or anything like. St. Mungo's is best for that." She had been there just a few nights ago with a very unammused wizard. In her defense, she hadn't thought the injury to be so bad.

As for the healing process of different creatures, those she had studied in abundance along with social behavior, living requirements, mating habits, and other areas. Moira didn't take what she knew for granted either, looking up the information again as needed to be certain.

Maybe she'd stop by the bookstore before she went home.

Pausing at a label Moira held up the bottle, "Is this what we're looking for?"

Ah! These were makings for magical creatures (and perhaps mundane). Zelda might have connected the dots sooner, but she knew now and that would make this easier. Zelda prestidigated a ladder that would reach a set of shelves less-often accessed. The ladder was one of those like from a library, with the iron casters that could roll along a rail. She took one look at the bottle Moira had found and shook her head.

"If you were making a tranquility balm for people, it would be. But you're not."

She climbed the ladder as she explained. "That brand is really just fine for anything. Callingscough doxy is quite sufficient but ..."

Zelda reached around more quickly. This shelf was tidier. "Just something I picked up when working with Ó Móráin. This has a bit more ... Ah!"

From the ladder, Zelda handed down a larger bottle with a black label. Danager's Doxy Powder.

"It's in powder form, so you'll have to soak it in alcohol yourself. But that lets you control the intensity based on what creature you're working with."

IMoira considered the bottle in her hand, listening while Mrs. Sellaphix spoke about what she found before placing the item back where it belonged. She'd have to remember to jot that information down when she got home later.

Looking up again her gaze tracked the witch's movements, accepting the black labeled bottle as it was passed down to her. Moira rotated the bottle slightly, watching the grains move against each other.

"That makes sense, thank you." Being able to control the potency per creature and injury would be extremely useful.

Moira shifted the bottle once more before picking up the herbs again, an idea forming in the back of her mind on coming back later for advice for different mixtures.

Zelda came down the ladder, almost smiling. It was ... nice to be able to pass this kind of thing on to a younger witch. She'd never trade in her boys, but she had always thought she'd have raised a positively wicked witch given the opportunity. She wiped the dust from her hands on her apron.

Moira McBoid made a perfectly polite response to what Zelda believed was really very clever information, an insider's secret not to be found in any book or offered by any other local shopkeeper. Zelda waited, a tolerant smirk touching her lip.

"You're welcome."

She said it with a snippy little full stop and breezed past Moira to lead the way back down. Young witch didn't talk much did she?

"Anything else, Moira?" she called over her shoulder as she headed towards the stairs.

Blue eyes followed the witch as she moved past, though Moira didn't make any move to immediately follow. Thoughts were jumping around in her head about the different potions currently in her bag. The most useful potions.

Decision made, for better or worse, Moira moved to follow. "One more thing, actually."

Hesitating briefly while making her way down the stairs, package of leaves and bottle secure in her arms, she cast the shop owner a cautious glance before asking her question. "In your opinion what are the best ingredients for a Wake Up Potion?"

Growing most of the ingredients if she could would be most ideal. Buying all of her stock readily made tended to be on the more pricey side. Unless Mrs. Sellaphix disapproved, maybe she could get the rest of them here. Moira rather liked this shop.