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Located on the north end of the street and beside Potage's Cauldron Shop, Slug and Jiggers Apothecary is conveniently there for all your potion-making needs. Whether your a first year just starting your brewing journey for school or someone who wants to stock up their collection of potions ingredients, this shop is right for you. Almost every ingredient can be found in here. And if you don’t see it, make sure to ask the shopkeeper. They will help you to the best of their ability.
For the most part the shop is almost as identical as it used to be. Multiples shelves lined with various item including jars of all shapes and sizes filled with ingredients of various natures and tools to make the process less likely to blow up in your face. And off to one side, several barrels that contain loose ingredients are on the floor beneath bundles of feathers, fangs and claws hang from the ceiling. There's also a beautiful leather-bound grimoire, predominately displayed, that contains recipes written by each of the previous shopkeepers to share with their customers. Be careful as you flip through it, though it is spell-protected after a nasty run in with an infestation of mutants escaped from the ministry.
The only thing that has change is the smell. Once you entered it doesn't smell as bad as it used to be. No rotten eggs smell anymore. You still have some subtle smell but it's not as unpleasant: a little trick of the new owner.
~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ It be like that sometimes.
SPOILER!!: Rae! <3
[QUOTE=DaniDiNardo;12566213]It had been a day of following Mrs. Birch and her terrible brood around Di...Diagon Alley. In the bustling group of six--one the adult and four her bustling clutch of chickies, Rae was the tiny one in the back with a sullen expression on her face and hair as unkempt as the day she'd been plucked off the street. She'd just been told off for the third time that morning and didn't feel at all that she wanted to be included in their little "family outing".
As they walked the aisles, Rae looked on at the ingredients with mild interest. She couldn't read any of the labels and hadn't the first idea what any of them were meant to do. Only a week prior, she'd been a free bird with dirty feet and a wide grin as she scrambled across rooftops with her friends. Her wings had since been clipped and there had been nothing but trouble since.
At some point, the little girl became aware that she'd lost the little group but at the risk of being reprimanded when she was inevitably found...she simply didn't care.
In fact, Rae went out of her way to be further lost, hoping this time would be the time. She would work on finding her way home after the escape. It was the getting away that was most important. Her plan would've worked, too, if she hadn't turned the corner of the aisle as sharply as she had and ended up running into someone in the process.
"....Ow." Rae rubbed at her nose that now hurt from the impact. It took an extra second to realise she'd actually run into someone. "Are you alright?" She didn't need the hassle of someone screaming and alerting the woman to her current location.[/QUOTE
Idris had not yet arrived at an answer to his non verbal question when there was a force much like someone a full grown crup leaping onto him happened. He dropped the notebook he had been holding, not because he was injured or anything; it was more because he was startled. Id actually look down on the ground, expecting to see a runaway crup prancing around in sheer delight and energy. There was no four legged creature, of course, but there was a younger human standing near to him.
“All good.” Id bent and grabbed his book. “Are you though?” At least there didn’t seem to be any broken nose involved as it was blood-free. “Do you need your parents? Or whomever you’re here with?” They must be around, right? “Or if you’re okay, and you need help finding ingredients?” Always helpful he was.
Yeah I broke that mirror, so what? ll NOT backward ll Official Gryfferin ll Lemon's favourite
SPOILER!!: Idris
Quote:
Originally Posted by FearlessLeader19
Idris had not yet arrived at an answer to his non verbal question when there was a force much like someone a full grown crup leaping onto him happened. He dropped the notebook he had been holding, not because he was injured or anything; it was more because he was startled. Id actually look down on the ground, expecting to see a runaway crup prancing around in sheer delight and energy. There was no four legged creature, of course, but there was a younger human standing near to him.
“All good.” Id bent and grabbed his book. “Are you though?” At least there didn’t seem to be any broken nose involved as it was blood-free. “Do you need your parents? Or whomever you’re here with?” They must be around, right? “Or if you’re okay, and you need help finding ingredients?” Always helpful he was.
With her nose still smarting, Rae forced her gaze up to the boy. He appeared comparatively unscathed--no surprise, really, Rae was small even for her age. "I'm alright," she said. She'd had harder knocks on the streets, including the one that left that chip on her front left tooth. If she couldn't handle a bit of a bump, she'd have never survived all the years she had.
The question of finding her parents brought her full attention to him. A cold shiver ran through her as a scowl set itself onto her face. Rae had only just gotten rid of the woman and didn't fancy being returned to her any time soon. With that decided, the little girl shook her head adamantly. "You don't have to trouble yourself," Rae said, doing her best to sound proper and unlike someone on the run.
"My parents are waiting for me by the," she needed a name. She needed a name! Think. There had been several shops passed on the way to this one. What was that one--"The Leaking Cauldron. We've been walking for ages and they're tired but I wanted to explore for a bit longer." That...seemed like something families would do...
If she had parents, Rae liked the thought that they wouldn't have smothered her but would allow her to roam freely as she liked. They certainly wouldn't be anything like the militant Mrs. Birch who didn't let her get away with anything.
"What're the ingredients for?"
__________________
Imma say all the words inside my head____________________________________
______________________________I'm fired up and tired of the way that things are said.
~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ It be like that sometimes.
SPOILER!!: Rae! <3
Quote:
Originally Posted by DaniDiNardo
With her nose still smarting, Rae forced her gaze up to the boy. He appeared comparatively unscathed--no surprise, really, Rae was small even for her age. "I'm alright," she said. She'd had harder knocks on the streets, including the one that left that chip on her front left tooth. If she couldn't handle a bit of a bump, she'd have never survived all the years she had.
The question of finding her parents brought her full attention to him. A cold shiver ran through her as a scowl set itself onto her face. Rae had only just gotten rid of the woman and didn't fancy being returned to her any time soon. With that decided, the little girl shook her head adamantly. "You don't have to trouble yourself," Rae said, doing her best to sound proper and unlike someone on the run.
"My parents are waiting for me by the," she needed a name. She needed a name! Think. There had been several shops passed on the way to this one. What was that one--"The Leaking Cauldron. We've been walking for ages and they're tired but I wanted to explore for a bit longer." That...seemed like something families would do...
If she had parents, Rae liked the thought that they wouldn't have smothered her but would allow her to roam freely as she liked. They certainly wouldn't be anything like the militant Mrs. Birch who didn't let her get away with anything.
"What're the ingredients for?"
Id was pleased that the girl was okay. He’d have hated for her to be injured to a point where she couldn’t enjoy this fine summer day. As for him, he was just chill like that; there was rarely anything that bugged him, especially when he was fixated on accomplishing all he had planned for the day.
Uh oh.
Clearly he had made a mistake in asking her about her parents. Was it simply him or did she seem a little too stubborn about not wanting to be led back to them? Maybe he should keep an eye on her for the time being, or at least until he figured out what was really going on with her. “No trouble. Lemme know if you change your mind.” Id fell quiet again as she launched into an explanation. “Uh huh.” The reply came out flat and disbelieving. He tapped his notebook thoughtfully. “And they allowed you to wander off by yourself?” He might be mistaken but she was younger than him, yes? What responsible parent would rest somewhere while letting their young kid do that?
Maybe Id would find his own mum and ask her how best to handle his suspicions.
“For my Potion Making Kit. I used up most of my ingredients during my first year at Hogwarts so now I need to replenish them. Would you by chance be going to Hogwarts any time soon?”
Yeah I broke that mirror, so what? ll NOT backward ll Official Gryfferin ll Lemon's favourite
SPOILER!!: Id!
Quote:
Originally Posted by FearlessLeader19
Id was pleased that the girl was okay. He’d have hated for her to be injured to a point where she couldn’t enjoy this fine summer day. As for him, he was just chill like that; there was rarely anything that bugged him, especially when he was fixated on accomplishing all he had planned for the day.
Uh oh.
Clearly he had made a mistake in asking her about her parents. Was it simply him or did she seem a little too stubborn about not wanting to be led back to them? Maybe he should keep an eye on her for the time being, or at least until he figured out what was really going on with her. “No trouble. Lemme know if you change your mind.” Id fell quiet again as she launched into an explanation. “Uh huh.” The reply came out flat and disbelieving. He tapped his notebook thoughtfully. “And they allowed you to wander off by yourself?” He might be mistaken but she was younger than him, yes? What responsible parent would rest somewhere while letting their young kid do that?
Maybe Id would find his own mum and ask her how best to handle his suspicions.
“For my Potion Making Kit. I used up most of my ingredients during my first year at Hogwarts so now I need to replenish them. Would you by chance be going to Hogwarts any time soon?”
"Yep!" Rae said readily. She added a firm nod, selling her story further. "They always let me go off by myself. I may look small, but I'm very mature for my age." At least, that was what a lot of kids liked to say when they got to doing things and didn't want her to join. Each time she pointed out the indefensible hypocrisy of them insisting it was only for older kids while hovering too closely to her age, there was always the fallback of being 'more mature'.
It was all a load of dragon dung if you asked her, but they were usually bigger, making it difficult to insist on her participation.
"Daddy always says he'd trust me to go as far as the end of Europe on my own. I know he's only joking but Mummy still gets mad when he says it."
His mention of Hogwarts and the subsequent question of her attendance brought her back to her present predicament of school shopping. Rae scrunched her nose. "They say I have to when the summer's over. I have to get all these supplies. It's useless really. I'll just run away when I get there." A nonchalant shrug rolled off her shoulder. The careless manner in which she spoke hinted at her confidence in her abilities to do so. Rae had been running for as long as she could remember.
Another school wouldn't be the thing to stop that.
__________________
Imma say all the words inside my head____________________________________
______________________________I'm fired up and tired of the way that things are said.
~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ It be like that sometimes.
SPOILER!!: Rae! <3
Quote:
Originally Posted by DaniDiNardo
"Yep!" Rae said readily. She added a firm nod, selling her story further. "They always let me go off by myself. I may look small, but I'm very mature for my age." At least, that was what a lot of kids liked to say when they got to doing things and didn't want her to join. Each time she pointed out the indefensible hypocrisy of them insisting it was only for older kids while hovering too closely to her age, there was always the fallback of being 'more mature'.
It was all a load of dragon dung if you asked her, but they were usually bigger, making it difficult to insist on her participation.
"Daddy always says he'd trust me to go as far as the end of Europe on my own. I know he's only joking but Mummy still gets mad when he says it."
His mention of Hogwarts and the subsequent question of her attendance brought her back to her present predicament of school shopping. Rae scrunched her nose. "They say I have to when the summer's over. I have to get all these supplies. It's useless really. I'll just run away when I get there." A nonchalant shrug rolled off her shoulder. The careless manner in which she spoke hinted at her confidence in her abilities to do so. Rae had been running for as long as she could remember.
Another school wouldn't be the thing to stop that.
Id lifted an eyebrow. Wasn’t that what all kids said? Maybe he had even said it once or twice and it was because of that, he decided to give the girl a chance. And no, he did not believe her story but he would pretend that he did. “Mothers are very protective,’’ Idris agreed. “Mine is the same.” But he loved her with all his heart! “The second someone they detect you’re in some sort of trouble, they’re ready to spring in ‘mama bear’ mode.” Even his best friend, Paul, was sort of afraid of Beatrice Grunt.
So she was just a year younger than he was! Id was about to remark about how he would gladly show her around Hogwarts when she mentioned running away. The guy stared, too surprised to make a comment until about a minute later. “Why on earth would you want to do that? Hogwarts is great.” Then he smirked a little. “Good luck with that though. The place is one of the most secure. Not in an Azkaban sort of way; just that it wouldn’t be as easy to run away from as you may think. For one thing you can end up getting lost since Hogwarts is located in the Highlands… loads of mountains and such.” The smirk turned to a grin. “But if you change your mind, I’d be happy to show you around Hogwarts. I’m Idris, by the way.”
not throwing away my shot | Slytherpuff | roll for initiative | woof you ❤
Elena had her Hogwarts list tucked into her pocket, but it was mostly forgotten. She wanted to see everything there was to see. As they passed each shop she paused to stare in the windows. Some were more enticing than others. Her dads had practically had to drag her away from the Menagerie. There were books and candy and owls and brooms and quills and and... And whatever this was. Elena peered through the windows at the jars and barrels of miscellaneous items. She was very intrigued by it, and wanted to know exactly what the items were. She looped her arm through Alexei's, needing her twin with her for this adventure of course, and pulled him along with her through the door into the shop.
Once inside she paused, looking around at the rows of shelves and barrels stuffed with items. There were people inside milling around; most of them looked to be Hogwarts aged. Elena also noticed the cauldrons for sale, and the shelf full of potions, giving her an idea of what all of these items might be used for. This is what they would be using to make potions? She bent over, peering closely at one of the jars. It appeared to hold a strange mucus. Gross. And cool. "Do we really need all this stuff?" She asked Alexei.
Elena had her Hogwarts list tucked into her pocket, but it was mostly forgotten. She wanted to see everything there was to see. As they passed each shop she paused to stare in the windows. Some were more enticing than others. Her dads had practically had to drag her away from the Menagerie. There were books and candy and owls and brooms and quills and and... And whatever this was. Elena peered through the windows at the jars and barrels of miscellaneous items. She was very intrigued by it, and wanted to know exactly what the items were. She looped her arm through Alexei's, needing her twin with her for this adventure of course, and pulled him along with her through the door into the shop.
Once inside she paused, looking around at the rows of shelves and barrels stuffed with items. There were people inside milling around; most of them looked to be Hogwarts aged. Elena also noticed the cauldrons for sale, and the shelf full of potions, giving her an idea of what all of these items might be used for. This is what they would be using to make potions? She bent over, peering closely at one of the jars. It appeared to hold a strange mucus. Gross. And cool. "Do we really need all this stuff?" She asked Alexei.
Alexei was, of course, perfectly happy to be arm-looped and led around, though only if it was specifically Elena doing the arm-looping and leading. Except also his dads. Obviously. But aside from the fact that she was his twin and therefore the person with whom he was most comfortable, Elena was also bolder and more confident and so it was an easy decision to let her take the lead, even though technically they walked side by side.
Before the door had finished falling shut behind them, he was wrinkling his nose. Subtle though that smell might have been, Alexei was still ready to gag when confronted by it, perhaps because it was gross, or because he could see the kinds of ingredients that contributed to it, or because he was just sensitive to that sort of thing. Sights and sounds and especially smells. And taste. Also touch.
"Not all of it," he said, and yielded to the urge to cover his nose and mouth with his free, unlooped hand, using the cuff of his sleeve as an extra barrier. "Cauldrons and scales and phials at least." He had, of course, memorised the entire supply list. Not intentionally, more as a side effect from checking it over so often, both out of excitement and a compulsive need to remind himself of what they needed to buy. "Are we supposed to get a potions kit, with ingredients?" he asked Elena, his voice slightly muffled behind his sleeve-covered hand. "It's not on the list, but how do we make the potions otherwise?"
__________________
Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You? You are Chocolate!
not throwing away my shot | Slytherpuff | roll for initiative | woof you ❤
See, Elena hadn't even noticed the smell. She was so focused on what was in the jars and what their purpose was. So when she looked back up at her brother to see that he had covered the bottom half of his face with his sleeve she was not exactly sure why. She didn't think much of it. Alexei could do whatever he wanted. She didn't even mind that his voice was slightly muffled. She could hear him just fine.
"Looks like we could get some of that here," she said, gesturing to the shelves of cauldrons and other equipment. "If we needed it, they probably would have put it on the list, right?" But he had a good point; how were they supposed to make potions without ingredients? "How would we know what ingredients to get? I don't know any potions recipes, do you?" She didn't know when Alexei would have learned a potions recipe, but it didn't hurt to ask. She was used to Alexei knowing more things than she did. Elena picked up another vial, this one containing a powdered substance and held it close to her face. "I don't even know what this is."
Wizarding World RPG Admin Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor
Leprechaun
Join Date: Aug 2010
Location: The Paths
Posts: 40,250
Hogwarts RPG Name: Briallen Ashburry-Hawthorne
Gryffindor
Second Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Nyle Harden
Hufflepuff
Third Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Iris Harden
Ravenclaw
Third Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Calliope Barrington
Slytherin
Second Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Diamond Marchbanks
Gryffindor
Seventh Year
Ministry Department Head:
Charles Hollingberry
Minister's Office
Ministry Department Head:
Airey Flamsteed
Mysteries
Diagon Alley Proprietor:
Zachaël Lufkin
Owl Post
x12 x12
open!
astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
The bell above the door gave a tired little jingle as Nyle slipped inside, already clutching his sleeve over his nose like a polite shield. The smell hit him straight away and it was pungent. Not necessarily unpleasant, but his nose could never quite decide whether it liked the mix of dragon liver, crushed, rosemary, and something definitely pickled that wafted through the air. He’d been here before, of course, but the scent always caught him off guard.
He let the sleeve drop as his nose adjusted, wide eyes drinking in the familiar chaos of the apothecary. Shelves full of bottles, pouches, jars, and powders stacked like chaotic little worlds. Clutched in one hand was a tiny carefully scribbled shopping list consisting of things mostly related to a summer project (he was attempting a mood-adjusting hand salve that shimmered faintly when someone was on the cusp of a brilliant idea), but also a few curiosity items that may or may not have emotional signatures. And also some knotgrass and lavender for a calming salve he wanted to try making. He also had a small hope (just a tiny one) that they might have moonstone or Valerian root bottled under a waxing moon. He didn’t need it for anything in particular—it just felt right to have ingredients that remembered light. He'd promised himself he wouldn't get distracted, but that was like planting daisy seeds and hoping for Devil's Snare.
Nyle was taller now, just a bit, but he still walked softly, as though the floorboards might have feelingsーa sentiment that had become almost overwhelming at home when he sat or stood in specific spots for too long. Something that did not appear to be a concern a the moment, the shop pleasantly busy and buzzing with murmurs and clinks of glass. Nyle rocked gently on his feet, swaying like a herb stalk in a summer breeze, humming tunelessly under his breath as he browsed. He was just as happy to people-watch, read labels, and maybe—just maybe—offer a pressed pansy to anyone who looked like they needed a little bravery.
He paused at a shelf of oddly shaped flasks, the glass catching the light like fireflies. "Excuse me?" he asked, soft but clear, directing the question toward the nearest shopkeeper or helpful-looking shopper. "Would you happen to know if any of these were bottled under moonlight? I think that might affect how they... feel." He hesitated, then gently tapped a jar with the back of his knuckle, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
__________________
When you're stuck in a moment and your spark has been stolen .................................................. ........... this is our time to own it, so own it..................................... baby we were born withfire and gold in our eyes
The bell above the door gave a tired little jingle as Nyle slipped inside, already clutching his sleeve over his nose like a polite shield. The smell hit him straight away and it was pungent. Not necessarily unpleasant, but his nose could never quite decide whether it liked the mix of dragon liver, crushed, rosemary, and something definitely pickled that wafted through the air. He’d been here before, of course, but the scent always caught him off guard.
He let the sleeve drop as his nose adjusted, wide eyes drinking in the familiar chaos of the apothecary. Shelves full of bottles, pouches, jars, and powders stacked like chaotic little worlds. Clutched in one hand was a tiny carefully scribbled shopping list consisting of things mostly related to a summer project (he was attempting a mood-adjusting hand salve that shimmered faintly when someone was on the cusp of a brilliant idea), but also a few curiosity items that may or may not have emotional signatures. And also some knotgrass and lavender for a calming salve he wanted to try making. He also had a small hope (just a tiny one) that they might have moonstone or Valerian root bottled under a waxing moon. He didn’t need it for anything in particular—it just felt right to have ingredients that remembered light. He'd promised himself he wouldn't get distracted, but that was like planting daisy seeds and hoping for Devil's Snare.
Nyle was taller now, just a bit, but he still walked softly, as though the floorboards might have feelingsーa sentiment that had become almost overwhelming at home when he sat or stood in specific spots for too long. Something that did not appear to be a concern a the moment, the shop pleasantly busy and buzzing with murmurs and clinks of glass. Nyle rocked gently on his feet, swaying like a herb stalk in a summer breeze, humming tunelessly under his breath as he browsed. He was just as happy to people-watch, read labels, and maybe—just maybe—offer a pressed pansy to anyone who looked like they needed a little bravery.
He paused at a shelf of oddly shaped flasks, the glass catching the light like fireflies. "Excuse me?" he asked, soft but clear, directing the question toward the nearest shopkeeper or helpful-looking shopper. "Would you happen to know if any of these were bottled under moonlight? I think that might affect how they... feel." He hesitated, then gently tapped a jar with the back of his knuckle, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
Stemp House had a comfortable supply of typical potion ingredients that were available for Phoebe and other homeschooled residents to use, but if she was going to return to Hogwarts (which she fully intended to do, no matter what anyone said), she needed some of her own. So here she was in the apothecary, complete with her favorite overalls, a full face of makeup, and a baggy green sweatshirt that said Give yourself room to GROW.
She was perusing the shelves quietly, checking things off a little shopping list that had been unfolded and refolded enough to be falling apart- she wasn't a loud presence in the shop, and didn't intend to speak to anyone if she didn't have to. However, she couldn't help but overhear a younger year asking about the bottling techniques of some of the ingredients. And- and- Phoebe was no expert in potions- she wasn't even very good at all- but she hadn't taken her OWLs for nothing, and she'd stared at those ingredient bottles long enough to know a thing or perhaps two. And- she could never resist the urge to help, no matter how much she would rather keep to herself. "It says it on the label, at the bottom," she answered reflexively, turning around to face the other student. "It won't usually say if it hasn't been bottled under moonlight, but it definitely will say if it has been. And- it'll usually be reflected in the price too." He should definitely be checking the prices on that... everyone should, really... everything was expensive these days, so you would only be finding the most basic ingredients in Phoebe's back to school cart.
Wizarding World RPG Admin Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor
Leprechaun
Join Date: Aug 2010
Location: The Paths
Posts: 40,250
Hogwarts RPG Name: Briallen Ashburry-Hawthorne
Gryffindor
Second Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Nyle Harden
Hufflepuff
Third Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Iris Harden
Ravenclaw
Third Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Calliope Barrington
Slytherin
Second Year
Hogwarts RPG Name: Diamond Marchbanks
Gryffindor
Seventh Year
Ministry Department Head:
Charles Hollingberry
Minister's Office
Ministry Department Head:
Airey Flamsteed
Mysteries
Diagon Alley Proprietor:
Zachaël Lufkin
Owl Post
x12 x12
astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
Nyle blinked, momentarily stunned out of his quiet concentration by the familiar voice. He’d been halfway through comparing the viscosity of two different Murtlap essence samples when the girl spoke up. It took him a second to place her—green sweatshirt, worn shopping list, that easy knowledge of the shop’s layout―but he got there eventually.
Not that he’d ever admit it out loud, but he’d been secretly hoping to catch the attention of her—the girl who worked here sometimes, the one with the bone-white braid and eyes like pressed violets or dusky amethysts. She reminded him of skeleton flowers and ghost orchids and other rare white blossoms that only revealed their beauty under specific conditions. Scary, in a way. Captivating, in another. It was probably for the best she wasn’t working today—Nyle wasn't sure he had the energy to pick his jaw up from the floor again.
So maybe it was a good thing that it wasn't her, the one the voice belonged to, but to someone more familiar. Someone who actually existed in his sphere. Phoebe.
She wasn’t just a fellow Hufflepuff... she was that Hufflepuff. Whenever he was the one sitting cross-legged in the greenhouse sketching fronds of dittany and jotting notes in margins with different colored ink for soil preferences, she had been there too...working on her own sprouts, doing her own sketches, or just existing there like he so often did. She was one who’d vanished mid-term without warning. Nyle hadn’t asked anyone why. He didn’t really do that—ask. But he’d noticed. He always noticed when someone who loved plants stopped showing up to Herbology.
He offered a sheepish sort of smile, lifting the bottle he’d been holding. "I was trying to read the text behind the price tag. Didn’t realize the label itself was doing all the hard work for me." He laughed under his breath, more to himself than anything, then set the pricier vial back on the shelf. "No wonder it’s a Galleon more." Nyle glanced at her again, trying not to be too obvious about it. She looked the same, mostly—though maybe a little quieter around the edges. Or maybe he was imagining that. Maybe he was just surprised to see her at all, here, like nothing had changed and everything had. "It's...really nice to see you again,” he said, voice a touch more earnest than he intended. "Not just because the reminder of how labels work. Though… the puffapods back at Hogwarts had been a bit sulky the more term went on." He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure if that was a weird thing to say. It probably was. He rushed on. "I’m Nyle, by the way. I mean—I know we never really talked...and maybe you never even really noticed me. But I remember you. From class. And the greenhouse. And the corridors. Of course the Great Hall too and...well...yeah..."
He offered her a softer smile this time, tilting his head toward her half-crumpled shopping list. "You, um… doing okay? Need help finding anything? Though, well, you obviously have the better handle on the shop and how labels work so not sure of how much assistance I could actually offer..." He didn’t press. He didn’t ask where she’d been. He just… offered. A quiet space. Room to grow.
__________________
When you're stuck in a moment and your spark has been stolen .................................................. ........... this is our time to own it, so own it..................................... baby we were born withfire and gold in our eyes
Nyle blinked, momentarily stunned out of his quiet concentration by the familiar voice. He’d been halfway through comparing the viscosity of two different Murtlap essence samples when the girl spoke up. It took him a second to place her—green sweatshirt, worn shopping list, that easy knowledge of the shop’s layout―but he got there eventually.
Not that he’d ever admit it out loud, but he’d been secretly hoping to catch the attention of her—the girl who worked here sometimes, the one with the bone-white braid and eyes like pressed violets or dusky amethysts. She reminded him of skeleton flowers and ghost orchids and other rare white blossoms that only revealed their beauty under specific conditions. Scary, in a way. Captivating, in another. It was probably for the best she wasn’t working today—Nyle wasn't sure he had the energy to pick his jaw up from the floor again.
So maybe it was a good thing that it wasn't her, the one the voice belonged to, but to someone more familiar. Someone who actually existed in his sphere. Phoebe.
She wasn’t just a fellow Hufflepuff... she was that Hufflepuff. Whenever he was the one sitting cross-legged in the greenhouse sketching fronds of dittany and jotting notes in margins with different colored ink for soil preferences, she had been there too...working on her own sprouts, doing her own sketches, or just existing there like he so often did. She was one who’d vanished mid-term without warning. Nyle hadn’t asked anyone why. He didn’t really do that—ask. But he’d noticed. He always noticed when someone who loved plants stopped showing up to Herbology.
He offered a sheepish sort of smile, lifting the bottle he’d been holding. "I was trying to read the text behind the price tag. Didn’t realize the label itself was doing all the hard work for me." He laughed under his breath, more to himself than anything, then set the pricier vial back on the shelf. "No wonder it’s a Galleon more." Nyle glanced at her again, trying not to be too obvious about it. She looked the same, mostly—though maybe a little quieter around the edges. Or maybe he was imagining that. Maybe he was just surprised to see her at all, here, like nothing had changed and everything had. "It's...really nice to see you again,” he said, voice a touch more earnest than he intended. "Not just because the reminder of how labels work. Though… the puffapods back at Hogwarts had been a bit sulky the more term went on." He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure if that was a weird thing to say. It probably was. He rushed on. "I’m Nyle, by the way. I mean—I know we never really talked...and maybe you never even really noticed me. But I remember you. From class. And the greenhouse. And the corridors. Of course the Great Hall too and...well...yeah..."
He offered her a softer smile this time, tilting his head toward her half-crumpled shopping list. "You, um… doing okay? Need help finding anything? Though, well, you obviously have the better handle on the shop and how labels work so not sure of how much assistance I could actually offer..." He didn’t press. He didn’t ask where she’d been. He just… offered. A quiet space. Room to grow.
Phoebe... sometimes wished she were a Hufflepuff, because being a Slytherin had always bothered her. It wasn't the people, who were generally quite kind, and it wasn't even the claustrophobic and depressingly dark dungeon that she had lived in at Hogwarts. No- her mother was a Slytherin, and that was enough to ruin the whole house for her. Yet she supposed that she wouldn't have been a happy Hufflepuff, either, since her father had been a Hufflepuff... perhaps she wouldn't have been happy in any house. And maybe, just maybe, the problem didn't lie with the house system at all, but rather with her heart. In a convoluted way, that thought actually made her feel better about the house that she'd been placed into. And she did very much like Slytherin green, so it wasn't all bad- she got to wear the colors of plants every day!
Phoebe wondered for a moment if the younger student was staring at her, but in the end she chalked it up to her overthinking nature. She was always worrying about how she was perceived- if she was being judged and if it was favorable- what people were thinking about her. But, she reminded herself, most people were focused on themselves, not on her, and it was silly to assume otherwise.
She cracked a smile as Nyle sorted out the whole label situation. "Labeling can be very confusing before you get the hang of it. I bet the ingredient manufacturers do it on purpose." In truth, she had stepped in not because she remembered Nyle, but because she just felt the need to help. She did remember him, though... she'd spent quite a bit of time around him, though they'd never spoken about anything other than plants. Phoebe had only ever wanted to talk about plants.
While Nyle had been wrong about her house, he was spot-on about Phoebe and herbology. It wasn't often that she excelled in school, or enjoyed it, but she had always been at the top of her herbology class. And she did love being in the greenhouses, which were her refuge and her happy place. She did like to work on her plant projects there.
She just didn't realize that anyone had noticed.
"I-" Phoebe hesitated. What did you say to a younger student, when they said that you affected them? It was both lovely and terrible to know that someone she barely knew had thought of her while she was being homeschooled. "-didn't realize." If she had, she would have happily offered to be plant pen pals.
"I know you. We spoke a little in the greenhouses," she elaborated, not wanting Nyle to worry that he'd been forgotten. "I just... didn't realize." And that was all she knew how to say, even as the idea that her time with younger students was important burrowed its way right into her heart.
"Oh... I'm not really good with potions and potions things, I've just had to look at so many labels for class. I'd appreciate help finding some of this stuff. I only need some basic school supplies."
...
"For Hogwarts, I mean. Not for home." In case that wasn't clear enough.
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Nyle would have been positively mortified to learn that he had mishoused her - something he would surely find out soon enough, particularly considering she would not be seated at the same table at the feast nor wearing robes with gold trim and accents. Maybe he’d just wanted her to be one. Someone rooted and golden, a quiet sunflower in the back row. He thought of the way she used to crouch beside plants like she was listening to them speak, her fingers gentle even with the most temperamental stems. That had always felt like Hufflepuff behavior. But maybe he was projecting. Maybe he just liked the idea of her being in his house—of the greenhouse crossing back into the common room.
Except it wasn’t just that.
He might recall the strange tug he used to feel on certain afternoons when he’d bring back pots or clippings from the greenhouse for weekend grafting experiments. The sense of something else lingering. The almost-familiar yet melancholy comfort that settled in the corner of the room when he set his gloves down. Like echoes. Feelings that weren’t his but curled up beside him anyway. Bits of her energy clinging to shared tools, to old clay pots she’d handled before he inherited them from the discard shelf. She’d left impressions like pressed flowers, and he’d mistaken them for kinship. He would never say any of this aloud, of course. That would be… well...weird. He barely understood how it worked most days and any time he attempted explaining it, even with Unspeakables and his own mum, usually made people look at him sideways.
And knowing that she had noticed him, back then—even just a little—sparked something fragile and bright inside him, like the first seed cracking open underground.
Spared for the time being, he smiled a little crookedly, softening when she offered to let him help. "Oh," he said, gently, "yeah, I can definitely help. I know where they keep the school kits. And dad and mum gave me some tips on picking out the bes phials and other things. They're healers, so they're both very particular on what does and doesn't end up in their supplies." He stepped aside to walk with her, holding his bottle of Murtlap essence in his hand delicately. His heart was still doing that odd stuttery thing, but it wasn’t the same as earlier—when he thought she might be the terrifyingly elegant shop girl with the pale skin and impossible eyes. "And, well, welcome back to Hogwarts, Phoebe," he added, more sincerely this time. "I mean. Almost. In a couple weeks and after a train ride and the carriages and everything. So, a premature welcome back. Er, it will be better with you in the greenhouses again."
He still didn’t ask where she’d gone. He just handed her a basket, adjusted the strap over his shoulder, and quietly matched his pace to hers.
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Xerxes and his parents entered the dark little shop and approached the counter. There was seemingly no one there so they rang the little bell on the counter. Then they waited patiently for the shopkeeper to come and assist.
"What all are we getting here, Mom?" asked Xerxes. She explained that he will need all sorts of ingredients, recipes, and a cauldron in order to make magical potions.
"But there are so many different ingredients here. Do I need some of all of them?" Xerxes asked, looking at the hundreds of glass jars on shelves, each full of some odd, magical ingredient. His mother explained that most shops offer a "Basic Potionmaking Kit" and that all other necessary ingredients could be found in the student store cupboard.
Nyle would have been positively mortified to learn that he had mishoused her - something he would surely find out soon enough, particularly considering she would not be seated at the same table at the feast nor wearing robes with gold trim and accents. Maybe he’d just wanted her to be one. Someone rooted and golden, a quiet sunflower in the back row. He thought of the way she used to crouch beside plants like she was listening to them speak, her fingers gentle even with the most temperamental stems. That had always felt like Hufflepuff behavior. But maybe he was projecting. Maybe he just liked the idea of her being in his house—of the greenhouse crossing back into the common room.
Except it wasn’t just that.
He might recall the strange tug he used to feel on certain afternoons when he’d bring back pots or clippings from the greenhouse for weekend grafting experiments. The sense of something else lingering. The almost-familiar yet melancholy comfort that settled in the corner of the room when he set his gloves down. Like echoes. Feelings that weren’t his but curled up beside him anyway. Bits of her energy clinging to shared tools, to old clay pots she’d handled before he inherited them from the discard shelf. She’d left impressions like pressed flowers, and he’d mistaken them for kinship. He would never say any of this aloud, of course. That would be… well...weird. He barely understood how it worked most days and any time he attempted explaining it, even with Unspeakables and his own mum, usually made people look at him sideways.
And knowing that she had noticed him, back then—even just a little—sparked something fragile and bright inside him, like the first seed cracking open underground.
Spared for the time being, he smiled a little crookedly, softening when she offered to let him help. "Oh," he said, gently, "yeah, I can definitely help. I know where they keep the school kits. And dad and mum gave me some tips on picking out the bes phials and other things. They're healers, so they're both very particular on what does and doesn't end up in their supplies." He stepped aside to walk with her, holding his bottle of Murtlap essence in his hand delicately. His heart was still doing that odd stuttery thing, but it wasn’t the same as earlier—when he thought she might be the terrifyingly elegant shop girl with the pale skin and impossible eyes. "And, well, welcome back to Hogwarts, Phoebe," he added, more sincerely this time. "I mean. Almost. In a couple weeks and after a train ride and the carriages and everything. So, a premature welcome back. Er, it will be better with you in the greenhouses again."
He still didn’t ask where she’d gone. He just handed her a basket, adjusted the strap over his shoulder, and quietly matched his pace to hers.
Phoebe liked the idea of being without a Hogwarts house- if she could abandon her common room and her school uniform to live exclusively in the greenhouses and wear plant-graphic clothes, she would in a heartbeat. Or even just live in the greenhouses in her green uniform- Merlin knew that most people wouldn't notice, and Phoebe would get to be permanently in an element.
Had Nyle told her that she left her energy behind in the greenhouses, she would have believed him. Only, Phoebe didn't want her energy rubbing off on someone like him- he might see her as a kind, positive presence, but she thought of herself as a gloom-bringer. (In many ways, Phoebe was like rain.) She would have assumed that her echoes must have been lonely, and she wouldn't have liked the idea of a younger year absorbing them.
She took the offered basket with a small smile. "Lead the way, then." She probably could have found everything herself, but this was easier and probably much better, and Nyle clearly wanted to help. Phoebe looked unmistakably... alert, for a moment, when he mentioned his parents being healers. They might have known or worked with her father, which she immediately resolved not to mention, because she liked that Nyle liked her and, well- her parents were dark wizards. She was guilty by association in more minds than just her own. "I'll let you help with my plant projects when I get back. If you want, I mean." She mostly worked alone, but that wasn't because she only liked solitude. She would very much like to work with a younger year- just like how she did with the younger residents at Stemp House- and honestly, she would have offered already if she'd thought he was interested.
Xerxes heard some voices coming from behind the partition in the back and realized that the shopkeeper was helping other customers. Therefore he took a seat and waited patiently for them to finish.
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Slug and Jiggers Apothecary 
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