As the Abbot said to the Spy...¦¦Hannah&Snape
5th August -10am
Diagon Alley: Outside Slug &Jigger’s Apothecary
With the destruction that time had wreaked on his collection[as well as, he suspected, Horace Slughorn’s wide thieving fingers] he had waited for one of the staff to mention their intention to go into Diagon Alley and cajoled, pestered and yes, partially guilt-tripped them into Side-alonging him.
Monday morning was as good a time as any to be in Diagon, and it at least kept the temptation to stray into the far more interesting (and competitively priced) Knockturn Alley. Thankfully much of the incoming school cohort was absent, and with a hood up, his erstwhile chaperone on their own business, and only his scruffy chin visible at a distance, he had been left undisturbed for the most part, even if it was a little warm. But now, standing outside of Slug and Jiggers, looking in the window with undisguised longing at the vials and jars and scoops of beetle’s eyes, and very conscious of the rapidly dwindling supply of pocket change in his robes, he felt like a school boy again.
He’d have to go to Gringotts soon and see if he could get into his vault, or deal with the Muggle bankers and get some pounds to exchange. For now, though, provided he didn’t go overboard he would be fine. He pulled the cloak tighter and ducked his head as he stepped inside, large nostrils inhaling the familiar sour, slightly medicinal scent of herbs and ingredients.
Almost immediately he was drawn to a display of wormwood acid, pre-prepared, long fingers gently tilting one of the vials towards himself and holding it up to the light, turning it back and forth to watch the play of light through the liquid, his rather distinctive profile more visible with his face upturned. It would be perfect for preserving rat spleens or hinkypunk tongues. And another attempt at brewing something simple.
