The apothecary was dimly lit and cool, the stuffy air filled with mingling scents by turns nauseauting and aromatic. Karkaroff twirled a finger through his dark goatee, scanning the shelves, trying to ignore the lingering sting of the fresh Mark. Antonin had told him to meet another member here, someone like himself who had long heard of the cause but only recently joined it. They would be part of the same network.
Antonin's description matched the surly-looking young man half Karkaroff's age organizing vials behind the counter. Karkaroff stepped forward.
"Severus, is it?"
The young man scowled.
"Not to you."