The little cafe was a favorite from her time in London, and Juliette never failed to pay a visit if she had time. This trip around, however, she wasn't grading papers on her own with an espresso to keep her company, nor visiting with an ex-colleague from the perfumers' laboratory. Rather, Juliette had come with the intention of catching up... on business.

Delilah Foley had a regal face and a revered name; Juliette's lips spread into a knowing smile when she caught the woman's eye, and she silently motioned for the waiter to greet her fellow cauldron connoisseur. Today would be a wonderful little catch up, and what perfect timing: Juliette had no sooner replaced every ingredient in the Hogwarts' inventory when news of the werewolf attacks reached her morning coffee. She'd read the article thrice over, and was still dumbfounded.

What could have caused such mayhem? Surely not the average bite...

And with Wolfsbane so common these days...

Standing, Juliette reached for her friend's hand, kissing each of Delilah's cheeks in the fashion she'd learned from her mother, and her mother before her. It was how she greeted everyone, from Joie, to Johann, to... well, no, not Landis Morgan. But that was another story, one best kept away from the cauldron fires, caffeine, and alcohol.

"Tell me, why doesn't St. Mungo's have this wonderful little thing called Spring Break?" She posed, humor tinting her voice like a wink.

Shopping: an ever-competitive and vicious endeavor, apparent to any consumer with a rather risky tendency towards a particular hobby, especially potioneering.

Tall, dark, and with tight dreadlocks, pulled back and trailing at her back, Delilah Foley entered the cafe to meet a fiery-haired witch (with an ambition to match.) The Ingredient market was in the woes of a power vacuum and fluctuating prices and the Jamaican witch decided it was time to catch up on the whole affair.

Delilah let the ginger witch take her hands and kiss her cheeks as a white smile peered between the older witch's thick lips, "Because most everybaddy whose on it end up p'on one of our floors before th' week is over," then her dark eyes narrowed mischievously as she recalled her casual position at the hospital,  "But it's my good fortune I can go 'round such ignorance."

The Jamaican witch returned Juliette's, pecking each cheek from right to left, a greeting she had grown up with to signify a friendship. It was fascinating how similar some cultures came to be in certain aspects, just as how similar the habits of two witch's, with a large age gap to men, could be. Delilah then moved to sit down as she gestured to the French witch, "Enjoying Hogwarts, I take? Hope you don't go soft on 'dem for their ages, my children sure don't need eet," her smile then evened out to a querying pucker, "And I hope you've kept clear of th' O Morain ingredients, for a time."

Juliette laughed, raising her cup in Delilah's direction: an ode to the life of a Healer. Merlin knew Juliette wouldn't last, for all her ambition. She'd rather teach the little devils than heal them. But she still very much admired the woman across from her. It took a certain stroke of genius to manage so many lives in the palm of one's hand... or the root of one's wand.

"It is a particularly dangerous time of year. In other countries, anyway." Mostly further west, where teenagers took it upon themselves to do the most vapid things in the human experience inventory without a pause to consider their own mortality. But muggle children were raised on television and radioactive technology, or so Juliette had always been taught. She'd been interested, once or twice, to test the theory, being a particularly stubborn girl-- but she still respected her family's way. They had done their part in turning her into the successful witch she was. "I don't suppose painting eggs is all that dangerous, unless one is doing so from the stands of a Quidditch pre-finals match." With a lager in one hand, and a foam snitch yanked over the other. Even wizards knew the joys of beer goggles.

"Oh, yes! I'm quite surprised at how quickly I've adjusted. Children are not exactly as... graceful... as perfume bottles." She tapped her fingers on the table top, grinning. "But your Naomi is quite the fierce witch in the making, isn't she? I have hopes she'll be in my N.E.W.T. class in the coming years." She was glad to hear a mother with sense: Juliette couldn't count the number of times she'd met a parent with zero expectations for their children's accomplishments. Delilah was neither jaded nor easygoing.

The school's Slytherin brood-- to whom Juliette had admittedly taken a particular liking-- was not the only reason the pair of witches were sitting down together on this fine afternoon. "Have you been browsing the apothecaries today, then? I haven't had a chance, but I would love to pop in to Sellaphix's place before I leave London. Unfortunately one has to be even pickier than usual since... the recent epidemic of ingredients." She nodded in mutual understanding where the Ó Móráins were (or, rather, one haughty Ó Móráin was) concerned. "I do hope Miss Ó Móráin bounces back. I took a trip to her farm-- she's no nonsense about her business... if also a little too touchy." Her brother had other reasons to be so.

"Never underestimate th' limits of a child's imagination. 'Dey are professionals at redefining what's 'safe' for any magical being."

"Naomi included, utilizing potions when she's bein' rather sneaky, but I'm sure you 'cin redirect that drive towards your N.E.W.T. class"

• "I do hope Miss Ó Móráin bounces back. I took a trip to her farm-- she's no nonsense about her business... if also a little too touchy."

An eyebrow cocked up on the older witch's forehead and and her eyes rose to meet Juliette, "Very."

She sat her cup down on the table and then continued, "I'm not not one of her favorites... where family matters," her voice lightened critically, "but she gave an effort to invite me to th' farm for some help."

"I t'ink it was extended after she invited a Ministry official--unofficially," she added with a brush of sarcasm, "Somet'in relying p'on a personal tutoring towards ignorance, 'dan for any official assistance, I'm sure," she lifted her cup again, letting the steam curl around her thick lips, "In 'di future I 'cin only take her products wit' severe discretion." She pressed the cup against her mouth and sipped again. Delilah had to admit, Liadán knew how to run her business, and how to run it well, but she lacked certain wisdom.

"She placed the cup down and folded a hand over her knee, "I try and grow my own goods around mi home, in general--keep th' animals we can. 'Course I try and get 'dem straight from th' farms when I can, as is 'di case wit' the bulk of Mungo's supplies," she thinned her lips and rolled her gaze hopelessly.

Her eyes landed back on Juliette, "While 'deir standards for farms are wound too tight fer my needs, they get fine ingredients from Italian or Greek farms, but I enjoy branching out from Europe, enjoying ."

"My efforts have been going to finding an apothecary 'dat will hold it, which they aren't readily willing to do lately, Sellaphix included," her lips pursed with a hint of a smirk as she dotted a forefinger onto her cheek.

Juliette raised her glass in agreement, having learned a thing or twelve about a child's imagination since accepting the post at Hogwarts. And she thought she'd been a clever little minx at their age... "At least Naomi has ambition. Some of these children, I have to wonder about their futures." Or their parents.

Ah, so the redhead wasn't the only witch to have a bit of a run-in with Miss Ó Móráin. Interesting...

"She is young," Juliette admitted. "Her brother might teach her a thing or two if they were still speaking. But Liadan seems intent on taking it upon herself. Entirely." Juliette could relate to that-- she'd loathed living in her brothers' shadows, and none of them were as Declan was in his family. In fact, outside of competing for their own brand of success, Juliette got on quite well with each of them. When it came to it, she wouldn't hesitate for their advice... or connections. But Declan had been blacklisted, and Liadan was very choosy with her associates, favoring those who might not benefit her in the end. As Delilah seemed to imply, that might become her downfall. "I don't like dealing with the Ministry, either, so I can't blame her there, but common sense is hard to come by, it seems. She's in for trouble again if she doesn't let them get on with their investigation and make changes where needed. Hiding only makes her look suspicious."

Nodding, Juliette also understood Naomi's tactic. "If I had a garden of my own, I would be doing that, trust me. I did ask Graham for a few things before he--" Was fired. "Left the school." His sacking had come as a shock, and yet, he was an odd man. Not particularly likeable for most. Juliette had realized that upon her arrival to the castle. During their first encounter, he'd pegged her for a prostitute. "Restocking the Hogwarts stores has a been pain. Perhaps I'll ask for my own plot in the greenhouses, if they can spare it..."

The Mediterranean did indeed have quite a lot to offer to a potioneer, least of all because of the number of unspoiled olive groves and wineries they'd managed for centuries. Something about a steadfast tradition did work in their favor, and might work for Ó Móráin, too, if she got her head out of the clouds. "Mmm, do you grow enough to sell here and there?" Juliette asked casually enough, tilting her head, spilling her hair behind her back.

Even before accepting her new job, Juliette had not had much time or space to grow her own ingredients. She'd traveled regularly between London and Paris after her move to the U.K, and before that had spent her first years out of school as a certified workaholic. Her terrace had hardly been big enough for a pair of chairs, let alone a garden, even with the benefit of magic. Her building's rooftop had offered more space, but less discretion than to what Juliette was accustomed at her parents' home in the countryside.

Again, she nodded understandingly. "I find a little under the table bonus does the trick, but even then, they're hard-pressed. It seems every has the same idea with the huge outbreak dwindling the country's imports and exports. They can't sell fast enough, and they can afford to be choosy about what they buy." Everyone had to be. If a woman like Delilah was having trouble getting them to hold ingredients, Juliette didn't want to imagine the state of the average potioneer.

"She let's 'em do all what's within their abilities and restriction," Delilah lifted her saucer up, hovering her cup over it as she spoke about Liadan,  "but, of course," she nodded, shuddering her dreadlocks together as she arched a brows, "omits any finer details of what could be amiss... And even if 'dey knew," she hummed despondently, "di' Ministry wouldn't handle it so well," she lifted the rim of the cup to her lips and took another sip.

"You would t'ink 'dey could spare somet'ing," she clacked the dishware back on the table, nonchalantly brushing over the knowledge of what was wrong with the O Morain farm and back onto Hogwarts and Juliette, "but 'cin be hard to build such a relationship with a newcomer--especially if 'dey're territorial about 'deir workplace' or more concerned wit' themselves."

She gave a hint of a smile as she continued, "I overrun my home with herbs an' crops, bountiful 'nuff to spare, but I refuse to put myself on the market," she waved her dismissively, "A proper license is th' ferst, legal, concern about 'dat--'den 'dere's what lurks in my gardens: wasps, spiders, bees--breeds of my or me own family's meddling."

Delilah folded a hand under a chocolate cheek, "I leave th' garden in the hands of the creatures who've perfected th' tasks yielding a healthy garden--I need only tend to it wit' supervision." Tiny voodoo wasps, pollinating insects as well as carnivorous ones--roamed her gardens. It was a common preference of hers to utilize insects instead of insecticides or vast amounts of man-made potions and spells for keeping a garden. "And keep Nidhogg[1] from it," she added after a beat.

"My professional services as a healer, I prefer public," she admitted firmly, "Anyt'ing else I offer is extended wit' family in mind."

The Jamaican wove her long arms together and confirmed transparent ease, "To which I am available, Juliette, if you cannot steal one of Hogwart's greenhouses for yourself."

"Speaking of Declan," Delilah strategically positioned her fingers on the table as she regarded the red-head, "he is a well-learned source on ingredients from creatures. A potioneer himself fer a short time before he came p'on a rough patch in th' field," she leaned back again nodding curiously towards Juliette, "Perhaps he can offer his services?"

"But, of course," her voice fell with a tinge of disappointment, "he in't th' type to offer such a wide selection of them, spanning beyond what's generally accepted or preferred..." by regulation standards and those of the Ministry world. Liadan may have been one to disregard certain limits but Declan was professional in almost every aspect. He was no tattle tale, but he was shamefully rule-abiding, such a pity.

1.	Her crocodile

Juliette quite agreed with Delilah’s assessment of both the woman and the Ministry who saught to regulate her; there were problems on each side, one finicky, the other a conglomerate of bureaucratic proportion. It it was a nation unto itself, nearly, and it moved as slow as a muggle team of homebuilders. Not to mention the rules... those ever-pesky things. If Juliette had worked for the government, she would have chosen a much different route from those poor regulators; naturally, she was curious about Landis’ role in the Department of Mysteries.

Delilah seemed to have the best idea of it. When in doubt, take control for yourself. A private store... Juliette again found herself wondering if there were any empty greenhouses she might make use of back at the castle. But the Ministry’s fingers were only on the farms and suppliers. They reached Hogwarts, too. The Board of Governors would not take kindly to the Potions professor encroaching heavily on other subjects to meet her personal needs. Think of the children, she would say back to them, a slap in the face.

“I once toyed with seeking a license in France before I settled on using my kitchen to brew things. Easy as tea.” If also vaguely more dangerous. But Juliette was not a tea person; she much preferred coffee.

She would keep the savvy woman’s practices in mind when she needed medical attention, too. Delilah seemed as ambitious as she was blunt about the politics of the world in which they lived.

"To which I am available, Juliette, if you cannot steal one of Hogwart's greenhouses for yourself."

Smile spreading like a rose, Juliette took another sip. “I will keep that thought close to my heart,” she promised. And she would.

"Speaking of Declan, he is a well-learned source on ingredients from creatures. A potioneer himself fer a short time before he came p'on a rough patch in th' field. Perhaps he can offer his services?"

Juliette mulled over this, considering the source across from her. Delilah had been in the game longer than she, and she was not like to lead her astray. Touchy as his sister was, and determined as he was to rebuild his social status by cutting out a pretty niche in the Hogwarts stone as Ana’s young Deputy Headmaster, the man had not gone unstudied by the redhead. “He is... on the surface... quite wrapped up in the rules, it seems. But... there is something there, something he shares with his sister. They are both made for wielding power. I have not tried to persuade him, but it couldn’t hurt to ask, you’re right. As long as it’s presented as--” Legal. “Ethical.” Not that Declan was so black and white in his ethics. There was much gray space where his alma mater Slytherin was concerned. Pity Juliette could not track down their Head of House, who had apparently found someone else to occupy his time.

“Have you done business with him?” She inquired, leaning closer, lowering his voice.

"Nothing so formal," Delilah let a glint of a white smile slip from her lips, as she lifted her cup to take a final sip, "He and Liadan are in Torquil's immediate family," she put the empty cup down on the table as she settled a hand on her knee, "Watched 'im grow up fer a while after his... problem in school," she tucked her chin to her shoulder with an air of indifference; A simple way for her to shrug of family matters that she did not consider her own even if she had her own concerns and opinions.

"Of course, I know a few other providers--fewer that hold my trust," she splayed her free hand out in front of her, "I could rattle on for  t'ree meters long scroll 'fore needing a breath, so I'd rather consider yer current hobbies and needs, dear."

Then, the dark-skinned witch let a single forefinger brush against her lips as she cautiously hushed her voice, "'Course, in such a time it may be best to keep certain hobbies sparse," then there was an amusing glint in her eyes, framed by a harshly arched brow, "But I'm really never in th' mood to bow to such nonsense."