"Hey," Oz said, walking up to the flowerbed as the witch mulched around a prize wolfsbane specimen.

"Oh, hey," Willow replied, wiping her hands on her already dirty jeans as she rose to greet her boyfriend. He kissed her briefly, then his eyes flicked toward the house.

"Are your folks home?" he asked.

"Yeah, but they just got back and they'll be busy all day, unpacking. Then re-packing 'cause they're going on a go-away to recover from the previous going-away," Willow smiled awkwardly as she explained.

"Sounds like they probably won't have time for the whole meet-the-boyfriend thing," he said.

"I'll explain that to them the next time they're around for more than a day. Which, I think, will be around Hanukkah."

"They're going to find out about me sometime," he said, smiling at her. "Let's just hope it's not because they stop by the library one moonlit night."

"Speaking of which, the first of the post-trial potions will be ready for next week's full moon," she said, grinning at him. "Actually, it's a potion and a spell. But it turns out that we'll be putting the wolfsbane in the incense — or maybe a salve — and not in the potion because Giles said it would probably kill you."

"Glad to hear it," he said, raising his eyebrows slightly.

March 11, 1998

Willow slumped in the library seat, watching the werewolf hurl himself against the library cage. The acrid scent of the wolfsbane smudge lingered in the air, seeming to further anger the beast. She pushed the tome that contained the spell away from her, barely containing tears of frustration and guilt.

Giles patted her shoulder.

"Come now, this enchantment had eluded generations of magicians. For your, well, your third effort, for the spell to have been effective so soon would have been a miracle."

The werewolf snarled and began to shred the towels hanging from the inside of the cage.

"Then again, a miracle may be what's needed."

Willow began to collect and reshelve the volumes.

"I bet the problem is that I'm using these old books. I mean, we've done variations of this ritual for two months. If this was the way to go, something good would have happened by now. Maybe someone has worked something out more recently. I'll check online and see if there have been any recent books published on it."

Giles looked over his glasses at her.

"Well, it's worth a shot," she said, defensively.

March 12, 1998

"Lycanthropy — have you checked the local authors section?" the salesperson asked brightly. Willow had not seen her at the shop before, surprising given how familiar the new witch was becoming with the place. The woman had been reorganizing the herbs when the hacker had walked in, and she seemed only passingly familiar with the book selection.

"I'm doing some research on the control of lycanthropy, werewolves in particular, and I was hoping to find if there are any recent publications. You know, like this week."

The sales-witch pursed her lips and went behind the computer, quickly pulling up a list of new publications.

"There's not been much published in the last decade. The '50s, that's to say the 1850s, looks like it was the big decade for werewolves. It looks like the recent stuff is more about getting in touch with your animal nature." She listed off a few titles.

Willow shook her head. "I've seen those and they're not what I need. Do you have anything like an updated Grimvance's Grimoire? Maybe with a better translation from German?"

"Doesn't look like it."

Willow gritted her teeth in frustration and muttered, "Great, I can do revocation spells, but I can't do the opposite of a curse, whatever that is."

"You did a revocation spell?" the sales-witch asked, perking up. "What were you revoking?"

"Well, an invitation into a house," Willow admitted, squirming inwardly. That subject was supposed to be a secret. The woman looked sympathetic.

"Something about a bad relationship?"

"Yeah, kind of. A friend broke up with this guy and she didn't want him to be able to come into her house anymore."

"Did she think about a restraining order?"

Willow winced. "Don't know that a restraining order would work."

"If he spent much time there, she might also think about doing a cleansing, to get rid of his energy."

"None of the books I ever read mentioned it. How do you do that?"

The saleswoman pushed her glasses up and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"You mean you don't even know how to do basic energy work and you're getting into esoterica like revocations and werewolves? Kids these days... They shouldn't even sell spellbooks to people who haven't learned how to clear their channels and cast a protection circle. People read J.K. Rowling and figure they can just open a book and go hocus pocus."

Willow felt her face grow hot.

"Well why are you selling this stuff if you don't think it's a good idea?"

She shrugged. "Favor for a friend, she couldn't make it in today and couldn't get anyone else to cover for her. Knew I wouldn't sell somebody mandrake when they wanted licorice root. I don't mean to bitch you out, it's not like they're offering classes in this stuff, or that the classes that are out there aren't a rip-off. Look, things are kind of dead now. Let's do some basic grounding and centering exercises, then you can see what I'm talking about."

Willow fought with her annoyance for a moment, but the promise of help from someone who seemed to know what she was doing outweighed her embarrassment.

"Okay, thanks. My name's Willow."

"I go by Onyx. Pleased to meet you."