Theories and Codes

Monday — January 6, 1997

"Okay, what the hell happened on Friday night?" Chrysanthe demanded, as she and Alicia found an empty classroom to eat lunch in on Monday. It was freezing outside and the sleet had turned everything to slick ice; there was no way anyone was going to eat in the courtyard. Of course, the classroom wasn't much better; it was chilly inside the Healer Institute on a good day.

Making sure they were alone, Alicia said quietly, "I ran into Adrian Pucey."

Chrysanthe nearly dropped her sandwich. "You what?"

"In Diagon Alley," Alicia explained in a low voice. "When Angelina and I were walking over to the twins' flat, several arseholes stepped out of the shadows and started harassing us. I don't know who they were, but they were up to no good. Ang and I were about to start dueling when Adrian came out of nowhere — nearly scared me half to death! He covered for us, and I realized the second he spoke who he was."

Chrysanthe stared at her. "So he got you both out of that mess?"

Alicia nodded. "Then he walked us to the twins' place to make sure no one bothered us. When we got there, I stayed outside with him a bit longer so we could talk."

"I hope you did more than talk." Chrysanthe grinned indecently.

Alicia couldn't help grinning back like a giddy idiot. "A bit… I told Angelina I'd nearly forgotten what a bloody amazing snog he is."

"Are you going to see him again? Please tell me you're going to see him again. All this about breaking up in June was rubbish, 'Licia."

At that, however, Alicia's smile faded. "I don't know. It's a bit complicated. Something's going on with him. I don't know what, and he won't tell me. I didn't press, but… we are talking again, and that's better than nothing."

"I suppose." Chrysanthe pursed her lips. "But I still think you should be shagging him."

"I'd love to shag him, thank you, but I don't think the time's right yet. He needs to feel comfortable telling me what he's been up to for the past six months, first. And why he disappeared."

"Good point."

The classroom door opened. Chrysanthe and Alicia glanced around as Courtney entered. Since the start of winter term, the three of them had been eating lunch together, as they were now the only Hogwarts students from the Class of 1996 in the program. Redgrave hadn't made the cut after the first term, which had not surprised any of them.

However, if truth be told, having lunch with Courtney and interacting with her was still a bit awkward. Alicia and Chrysanthe had never been friends with Courtney, and Alicia wouldn't say they were friends even now. Still… for better or worse, it was the three of them going forward.

Haughtily, Courtney asked, "Do you two care if I eat with you?"

"No, of course not," Chrysanthe replied. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to join us when class ended, but you were finishing up your notes."

"I wanted to make sure I had everything copied right," Courtney muttered. "I forgot to write down a couple of things last Friday and it's been driving me barmy all weekend."

Chrysanthe shrugged. "You can look at my notes if you want."

"Thanks. I might." Courtney sat down with them. "My father is the fucking chair of the board, and if I don't do well, he'll give me hell for it."

Alicia started in surprise. "Your father is the chair of the board?"

Courtney's expression was sour. "Unfortunately for me, yes." And before they could ask further questions, she opened her butterbeer and said, "So. What were you two talking about before I came in?"

"Snogging fit guys," Chrysanthe replied lightly.

Courtney's lip curled. "No one wants to hear about you and Youngman, Hayden."

Alicia supposed she should be grateful that Courtney hadn't referred to Danny's blood status outright, but she knew it was what she was hinting at all the same.

"Actually, we were talking about Alicia."

Alicia glared at Chrysanthe. "What she means is, I'd like a good snog every once in a while. Would help with stress relief."

Courtney pulled out a thermos of soup and shrugged. "Can't argue with that."

"Are you seeing anyone?" Chrysanthe asked.

Courtney glanced at her in surprise. "Me?"

"No, the desk beside you. Yes, you."

Courtney's face became completely impassive. It was so hard to read the Slytherin; her expressions gave nothing away. It reminded Alicia of when she'd first had a conversation with Adrian back in fifth-year; it had been hard to read him because he had been so reserved, and it had made her feel wrong-footed and wary.

"No. I'm not," Courtney said.

"Did you date anyone at Hogwarts?" Alicia asked, suddenly curious. She'd never had a conversation with Vanhausen outside of prefect duties. But if they were going to have lunch together several days a week, she supposed she should at least make an attempt at conversation that didn't involve the war, blood purity, or Healing classes.

Courtney shrugged. "I snuck around with a couple of guys, but nothing serious. What about you?"

"Just one," Alicia admitted, hoping Courtney wouldn't ask further questions.

"I'm going to assume that was not Lee Jordan."

"You assume correctly."

"What happened?"

Alicia shrugged and said evasively, "We needed a break, so we ended things in June. It was mutual. What about you?"

"I wasn't interested in any of the guys I snuck around with, not on a long-term basis," Courtney finally answered. "A good snog or shag is fun, but I'd rather not get tied down. It's too easy to get hurt by the wrong person."

Chrysanthe looked thoughtful. "But it can also go the other way, you know. Maybe you won't get hurt. Maybe you just need the right guy."

"Except I'm a bit more realistic than that, Hayden. I don't trust people in general and I certainly don't trust men to not use me for their own purposes. I prefer to do things alone."

Alicia felt a slight pang. That was really rather sad, when she thought about it. She murmured, "Doesn't it get hard?"

Courtney snorted. "Please. I don't need your pity, Spinnet." She gave Alicia a cold smile. "Let me do things my way, yeah? I can make it just fine on my own, without any man helping me."

Alicia and Chrysanthe exchanged a look, but didn't say anything. They were both independent women too, but Alicia also knew it would be very hard to go through life without friends. She cherished Angelina, Katie, Oliver, the twins, Lee, Kenneth, Adrian, and all the others. She couldn't imagine not having anyone in her life, as Courtney claimed.

Kenneth frowned at the account on his desk, trying to make sense of it. It was a large sum of money, but the organization was, as usual, in code. The account was for the Selwyn family, and he knew Abaddon Selwyn was a Death Eater, currently in Azkaban for his part in the Department of Mysteries Battle the previous June. But his wife was still free, and this account was just another example of large sums trickling away, presumably into Lord Voldemort's hands. Yet Kenneth couldn't figure out where the money was going, or why. It was maddening. He and Bill had been watching this for months, with no progress at all.

"That's a pensive look," Bill's voice said.

Kenneth glanced up. His office was smaller than a broom cupboard, and yet Bill somehow managed to squeeze in the door, close it behind him, and cast a privacy charm.

"It's the Selwyn account," Kenneth muttered, handing the parchment to Bill. "But it's coded again. If we can't figure these damned codes out…!"

Bill swore under his breath as his eyes raked the parchment. "At some point, I'm going to have to break into Harper's office."

"That's dangerous, though."

"I know. That's why I've been putting it off. But I've been paying attention to the charms he puts up when he leaves in the afternoons. And I wasn't a Curse Breaker for nothing." Bill handed the parchment back to Kenneth and sighed. "I just need to plan it out, is all. It would be bloody useful if Harper took a day off every once in a while, but I have a feeling I'll have to stay late and do it one evening. Maybe I can use Moody's invisibility cloak."

Kenneth muttered, "Or you could just slip the arse a Puking Pastille and have done with it."

Bill stared at him for a second before he nearly burst out laughing. "I see being in the same class as my twin brothers has affected you to some degree, Towler."

"I'm just saying, if you need a way to get rid of him for an afternoon, that would do it." Kenneth returned to looking over the account and making the necessary filing notes. He still hadn't forgiven Fred for slipping him one last year, even if Lee had been quick to shove the other half in his mouth shortly after.

"Well, I'll figure it out. But," Bill added sharply, "I'm not going to tell you when I do it. I don't want Harper on your arse anymore than he already is."

That was an understatement. Harper made it perfectly clear every single day how much he loathed Bill and Kenneth both, though he did stop short of calling Kenneth a blood traitor, which was more than Harper did for Bill. Kenneth recalled how Pucey had told him that the Towler family was higher than the Harper family on the wizarding social ladder, and that Harper would mind that no matter how much he resented it. It seemed Pucey was right, but it didn't make the insults and ugly looks easier to take.

"It's okay. I'm getting used to it. It's no worse than Umbridge was last year."

Bill sighed, but didn't say anything. "Well. I'll check in with you later. Let me get back to my office."

"Cheers."

Unfortunately, Bill hadn't been gone five minutes before Kenneth's door opened again and Gerald Harper leaned in.

"Towler," he sneered. "Run these down to Chattaway & Winpenny's. They're expecting them by two and I'm quite busy this afternoon. Hurry up!"

Kenneth kept his expression blank as he looked up at Harper and reached for the scrolls of parchment. For a brief moment, he caught a flash of Harper's mind: a man coming into the bank.

Well, damn. That wasn't helpful. If he couldn't identify the person, he wouldn't be able to pass any information along to Dumbledore. But he didn't need Harper guessing what he was doing, so he merely said, "Yes, sir."

Chattaway & Winpenny's Law Firm was technically in Knockturn Alley, though the side of the building could be seen from Diagon. Kenneth drew the hood of his cloak over his head even as he left Gringotts. He wasn't looking forward to going into Knockturn for any reason, even for bank business.

His mind went back to the image he'd seen in Harper's head. Harper was clearly expecting someone at the bank, someone he wanted to deal with personally. Someone he didn't want Bill or Kenneth to meet. It was very probable that the man was a Death Eater, or at the very least had strong ties to Voldemort's factions. But how on earth could he figure out who the man was? Kenneth pushed his glasses up slightly and sighed in frustration. Maybe if he'd been sorted into Slytherin, he would have known. But that would have never happened; if Kenneth had been sorted differently, he would have gone to Hufflepuff. Sometimes, he still wasn't sure why the Sorting Hat had put him in Gryffindor.

Chattaway & Winpenny's was dark and smelled like moldy books and stale air. The ancient clerk took the scrolls from Kenneth and waved him away without so much as a comment, and Kenneth stepped back into the dark, dirty alley. Gripping his wand tightly beneath his cloak, he turned and went back towards Diagon Alley, breathing a sigh of relief as soon as he was back on the main street. It wasn't much better than Knockturn these days, but at least it didn't feel quite as bad.

And then suddenly, a blinding thought occurred to him. It was so startling that Kenneth actually stumbled to a halt and his mouth fell open in surprise.

Maybe there was a way to know who the man in Gerald Harper's thoughts was.

Night was falling when he got off work at five, and Kenneth hurried back to his flat as fast as he could without actually running. He was lucky; Karen wasn't home from her job at Madam Malkin's yet. He dashed inside and pulled the two-way mirror from his pocket.

"Pucey!"

He didn't have to wait long; Pucey kept the other mirror on him at all times, thank Merlin. A moment later, his face flashed into the glass.

"What's up, Towler?"

"I need to see you in person," Kenneth said quickly. "Now. It's important. We need to meet somewhere safe, though."

Pucey frowned. "Meeting Point Two?"

This was part of the code they had written back in November — three different meeting places around the country that were confidential and private, as well as a series of passwords in case they couldn't think of security questions on the fly. It wasn't as if they had known each other long enough to have a wide array of security questions, after all.

"Give me ten minutes."

Pucey nodded and vanished.

Kenneth hurried to his bedroom to change clothes. If he was going to meet Pucey and try his theory, he wanted to be comfortable. He had just changed into jeans and a sweatshirt when Karen came in the front door.

As he stepped back into the sitting room and slipped the mirror into his jeans' pocket, she smiled at him. "Hard day?" she asked, stepping up to kiss him.

He kissed her quickly in return. "Yes, but I need to meet someone really quick. It shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes and I'll be right back. Order-related stuff."

Her face clouded. "Be careful."

"I will. I have an idea. I need to test it and see if it works."

She gave him a curious look. "You sound a bit excited."

"If it works," Kenneth said, "I will be."

She gave him a saucy sort of smile. "Well, then. If it works, I'll shag your brains out when you get back, to celebrate."

Kenneth chuckled. Merlin, he could use a good shag. "I'll be back in twenty minutes at the most, love. Here's hoping my theory works." With that, he grabbed his cloak, stepped back onto the landing, and Disapparated.

When he reappeared, he was standing in a copse of trees outside Woolhope. It was cold, but the trees offered a bit of shelter, at least. Two minutes later, Pucey Apparated into the grove.

"What is your Patronus?" Pucey asked, by way of a security question.

"A bull elephant. What is yours?"

"A goshawk." Pucey cast a privacy charm and a shield around them. "What's up, Towler?"

"I have a theory," Kenneth said, almost rushing to explain. "And I need to test it. Earlier today, I made eye contact with Gerald Harper. I saw a face in his mind, a tall, hefty bloke coming into the bank, but I didn't recognize him. I felt like I should. I mean, if I can't recognize an image, how can it be useful?"

Pucey's brow furrowed slightly. "That's just it, though," he said. "If you can't recognize it, it wouldn't be useful. But we can't always recognize what we see in someone's head. We don't know everyone. Some images we glean through Legilimency are going to be worthless just by the law of statistics."

"True. But here's the thing," Kenneth went on, pacing back and forth a couple of steps. "What if you recognize the face?"

"Me? But I didn't see the image."

"No, but I did. Here's my theory. You access my mind, and I'll see if I can show you the image I saw in Harper's mind."

Pucey frowned, but it wasn't in anger. "It's worth a try, I suppose."

"Right." Kenneth squared his shoulders. He didn't much like the idea of Pucey in his head, but he didn't have much choice right now. He just needed to control his thoughts very carefully, to only show the image he had seen in Harper's head. "Go on, then."

Pucey's jaw twitched, but he met Kenneth's eyes evenly.

Kenneth knew the second Pucey silently cast the spell; his mind opened and a number of different images wanted to burst forth. He immediately cast Occlumens nonverbally and kept strict control, focusing solely on the one image he wanted Pucey to see: the man in Harper's mind.

The contact only lasted about ten seconds before Pucey broke it.

"Could you see him?" Kenneth asked, hoping he didn't sound too breathless.

Pucey nodded, his expression taut. "I don't know him personally, thank Merlin, but I know of him. Astaroth Selwyn. He's the patriarch of that family. His son, Abaddon, is a known Death Eater. Abaddon is in Azkaban right now though; has been since last June. I wouldn't be the first bit surprised if Astaroth himself is a Death Eater too, though. I'd bet money on it, if I'm honest."

"I was handling an account for the Selwyn family earlier today, but everything was coded. There was a large sum of money that had been transferred somewhere, but I don't know where." Kenneth ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "If I just had the bloody codes…"

"Well, report it to Dumbledore. And be careful — not only are they Death Eaters, but you know Umbridge is related to the Selwyns, right?"

Kenneth stared at him. "What?"

"Yes, it's her maiden name," Pucey drawled disparagingly.

"How do you know all of this stuff?"

At that, Pucey laughed, but Kenneth could tell it was bitter. "I'm a pureblood Slytherin, Towler. Just because I don't hold to the same notions of blood purity as most of them doesn't mean I don't know these things. For Slytherins, it's extremely important to know families and marriages and how people are related to each other. Most Slytherin marriages are contracts to strengthen blood ties or maintain blood purity, remember? In my case, I learned this sort of thing to make sure I avoided certain witches. I sure as fuck wouldn't date a member of the House of Selwyn, I can tell you that," he sneered. "Hateful arseholes, the lot of them. And they aren't as wealthy as my family anyways, even if they are members of the Sacred Fucking Twenty-Eight."

"I cannot fathom having that kind of money," Kenneth muttered. Growing up, he'd always thought his father did quite well; the Towler family had never hurt for anything, and Kenneth's father held a powerful position at the Ministry of Magic. But Pucey was on another level entirely. Even Gil was on another level from Kenneth, and the Royles weren't as wealthy as the Puceys!

"I wasn't trying to brag," Pucey said stiffly. "Just trying to explain the way Slytherins think. I can tell you this, though. Harper won't let you near the Selwyns."

"No, he definitely won't. Bill is going to try to break into Harper's office to see if he can find any codes, though. If he does, I'll let you know. I'll probably need your help deciphering them."

"I hope he can get them. Not having the codes has been a pain in the arse."

"Tell me about it." Kenneth raked a hand through his hair. "Do you need anything?"

"Me?" Pucey looked confused. "What would I need?"

"I don't know," Kenneth said, exasperated. "Dumbledore told us to help each other. He hasn't sent you back out into society again, has he?"

"No, and I wouldn't go even if he asked me at this point. I've enjoyed not being around my old classmates, thank you," Pucey said stiffly. "I mostly stay home, and occasionally I run errands for my mother so she doesn't have to go to Diagon Alley. I'd thought about brewing potions, though."

"Potions?"

Pucey nodded. "Ones that might come in handy for the Order at some point. Getting the ingredients is a challenge right now, but I thought if I could brew up a few batches of general antidotes or even Felix Felicis…"

"That would be useful, but isn't it really tricky…? And it takes fucking forever, if I remember right…"

"Six bloody months. And at least one of the ingredients is nearly impossible to obtain, while another is being regulated. But if I could get them, I have the time and I don't have Snape breathing down my neck," Pucey replied. "So I could probably pull it off."

"Well, if you need anything from Diagon, let me know. I can stop by the apothecaries if you want me to, to avoid bringing suspicion on you."

"Thanks. I'll let you know."

As Pucey turned to leave, Kenneth called out haltingly, "Have… you talked to Alicia anymore?"

At that, Pucey froze. "What?"

Kenneth sighed and admitted the truth. "I know you saw her on Friday night, outside the twins' place. Angelina and Alicia told everyone she'd bumped into a classmate, but Alicia isn't good at locking her mind down. I accidentally made eye contact with her and I realized what really happened."

Pucey didn't turn around, but Kenneth saw the way his shoulders bunched in irritation that he'd been found out. "We're… communicating," he said stiffly. "A little. Just mundane stuff though, so I don't accidentally tell her about what I'm doing for the Order."

"That's better than nothing."

There was a pause, but Pucey's shoulders relaxed a bit. "It is. Night, Towler."

The soft pop of Apparition left Kenneth alone in Woolhope, and he sighed heavily before he Apparated as well. He was due a damn good shag, after all, and he couldn't be bothered too much more with Pucey at the moment.

Thursday — January 16, 1997

On Thursday, Bill asked Kenneth to meet him at his parents' home for dinner. This was a bit of a surprise; Kenneth had never been to the Weasley's house in Ottery St. Catchpole before, despite having been in the same class as the twins for seven years. However, he knew that the Order sometimes met at there, so maybe this was Order-related business. Except the invitation also included Karen. She hadn't officially joined the Order to avoid bringing notice to her muggle-born mother, but Dumbledore had agreed that Karen was trust-worthy and could know certain information. Despite that, Kenneth usually didn't tell her much about what he was doing for Dumbledore, for her own protection.

Since she was invited that night, they Apparated together to the Burrow, appearing on the cold, windy lane in the gathering darkness, outside the strangest-looking house he'd ever seen.

"I always heard it was odd," Karen remarked, gazing up at the structure. "I can see what people meant, now."

"It's bizarre," Kenneth admitted, more than a little startled at how it seemed to defy gravity in places. He certainly preferred his flat in Diagon Alley, and definitely his parents' neat, trim, elegant terrace home in Chelsea.

Together, they made their way through the scraggly yard to the door and knocked. After an exchange of security questions between Kenneth and Bill through the door, they stepped inside a warm, cozy, cramped kitchen — and Bill's mother gave them a cheerful smile. She welcomed them in, told them to sit down, and said she would have beef stew and bread ready in just a moment. It certainly smelled like she was an amazing cook, and as cold as it was outside, Kenneth definitely wouldn't say no to a hot, home-cooked meal. Karen was bloody brilliant at cooking, but he was also glad she had the night off from it too, so she could relax.

"Go on, please sit down," Bill insisted, gesturing towards the table. "Dad's not here, he's working late again, so it's just us. But you know my fiancée, Fleur Delacour?"

Kenneth nodded as he and Karen sat down opposite Bill and Fleur. "I do." He hesitated, then added, "Cedric was one of my best friends, actually."

Fleur's face fell slightly. "Ah, oui. I do remember you walking in zee corridors of 'Ogwarts with him, now zat I look at you. He always spoke so fondly of you and Gilbert, both." Her eyes turned to Karen and she said softly, "And you… you were a 'ufflepuff in Cedric's year, were you not?"

Karen gripped Kenneth's hand under the table and nodded. "It was hard on us," she murmured. "Those of us in our year, I mean. We were always a close group. We still are. But there's a hole there now, and always will be."

Fleur nodded. "I understand. I miss him, too. 'E was a good man. 'E cared deeply for all of his friends."

"Which, really, is one reason we're here," Bill said briskly. "To prevent that kind of thing from happening again, right?" He smiled at Kenneth. "Guess what I have for you, Kenny."

Kenneth felt his gut flutter excitedly. "Please tell me it's a list of fucking codes —" He broke off suddenly as a wave of horror went through him, and he turned and blurted, "Sorry, Mrs. Weasley! I didn't mean —"

But she only rolled her eyes. "I ought to tell your mother, but I won't," she said, both fondly and sternly. Using her wand to direct four bowls of soup to the table, with bread and juice, she added, "You're a grown man now, Kenneth. Besides, I have six boys. Do you really think I haven't heard that kind of language before?"

He gave her a weak smile. "Still. I'll try to watch it."

Bill held out a piece of paper. "Took me five hours to find the damned list, duplicate it, and put his office back in order so he wouldn't know I was in there."

Fleur's face had a trace of worry. "I hope 'e does not find out, somehow."

"I happen to agree with her on that," Mrs. Weasley threw in, scowling at her oldest son before she turned back to the stove.

"I was careful, Mum, don't worry."

Karen leaned over Kenneth's shoulder as she broke some bread into her soup. "So now you get to figure them out. Hopefully you can determine where all the money is going…"

"I would help you myself," Bill said, "But Dumbledore has me doing other things, and I don't have the time right now. I'm sorry."

Kenneth nodded. "No, that's fine. This is my job. And fortunately, I have someone who can help me, since I can't do it while I'm at work."

"Oh?" Bill frowned.

"Don't worry. Professor Dumbledore partnered me with someone else, remember? Another invisible member."

"Oh. Yeah, I do remember. Do you think they can help you?"

"I'm sure of it. Much as I dislike him, he's pretty brilliant."

"Well, that's good. Here's hoping." Bill raised his glass and clinked it to Kenneth's. "Let me know what the two of you find, yeah?"

"Cheers."

With that, they all laughed and dug in, and Kenneth found he didn't even really care that the room was cramped and small, because the food was so good. The laughter helped, too.

Adrian frowned at the list of ingredients he needed. Truthfully, he'd been eyeing the ingredients for at least two months, trying to figure out how he could pull it off. Felix Felicis was a tricky potion to brew; it required at least six months to stew, and that was the easy part. The squill bulb, horseradish, thyme, and rue he could find in the greenhouses or gardens on his parents' estate, and Murtlap could easily be obtained from an apothecary. But Adrian had told Kenneth the truth: Ashwinder eggs were currently under regulation due to the war and they were expensive on top of that, and the bloody Occamy eggshells were nearly impossible to find, even if one was willing to pay handsomely in gold. Not to mention that item would draw a lot of attention; far more than Ashwinder eggs.

Adrian sighed and frowned at his old Advanced Potions textbook. He had initially thought that having some vials of Felix Felicis on hand would be useful in case an actual battle broke out, but he was just as stumped as he was a month ago when he'd first looked at the ingredient list. He had absolutely no idea how he could get those damned Occamy eggshells.

"Potions?"

His father's voice jolted him from his brooding thoughts, and Adrian looked up in surprise. He hadn't even heard his father enter the library.

Adrian sat up a bit straighter and admitted, "I was thinking of brewing some, so I don't lose the skill. But…"

"Ah." His father was looking over his shoulder, and his brows knit together. "Yes, I'd thought about brewing that one recently, too. But Occamy eggshells are very difficult to obtain, even in good times."

"I should probably do something different." Adrian stood up and closed the book. "Maybe Blood-Replenishing."

"I've already done a batch that," his father answered off-hand.

Adrian started in surprise. "What?"

"I said, I've already brewed a batch of Blood-Replenishing. I put up thirty vials last week."

Adrian's mouth fell open. "I had wondered if you were going to brew, when Mum kept sending me out with lists of random potions ingredients! But I didn't think you brewed anymore!"

"It's true that I haven't brewed in a while, but one doesn't forget how." His father smiled slightly. "Your mother thought it would be a good idea if I kept a stock of potions that might come in handy for the Order. We haven't told Albus," he added, suddenly stern. "We don't want him to know. If the Order needs potions, your mother believes that you could get them to certain people without Albus knowing."

Adrian's brows knit together. "Why doesn't she want Professor Dumbledore to know?"

"She has her reasons. I've also brewed a batch of Antidote to Common Poisons and put twenty vials of that up, too. And Dreamless Sleep and Calming. I'm working on Wound-Cleaning and Sanguis Coagulationis right now."

"Sanguis Coagulationis takes at least six months, too!"

"Yes, well, I have two stillrooms, Adrian."

"Two? I thought —"

His father waved a hand aside. "The second is hidden."

He had no idea his father had two stillrooms! Adrian hesitated, then asked, "So… I shouldn't worry about brewing, then?"

His father looked at him appraisingly. "Actually… why don't we try Felix Felicis together?"

"But… the Occamy eggshells! And the Ashwinder eggs! And it takes six bloody months!"

Alexander gave him a secretive smile. "Happens I have some Occamy eggshells on hand. I just need the Ashwinder eggs."

"How the bloody hell did you get Occamy eggshells?!" Adrian blurted.

At that, his father chuckled. "Your brother. It's much easier to find that sort of thing in Paris, you know. Atticus and I were able to find some when I was there two weeks ago. I paid a mint for them, but I have enough to make at least two batches. However…" He grew serious and sighed. "You've already purchased a few ingredients from Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. The Ashwinder eggs will draw attention from apothecary owners, and we don't need that, either. Not to mention they're being regulated at the moment."

Adrian couldn't help but grin slightly. "Actually… I think I might know a way to get them without drawing attention."

His father looked at him curiously.

"An acquaintance of mine in the Order," Adrian explained. "He offered to buy me anything I needed in Diagon Alley to keep anyone from recognizing me in the apothecaries. If we could get him some gold, he could make the purchase."

Alexander gave him a slow smile. "I think that can be arranged."

Author's Notes:

1. Sanguis Coagulationis is my own random creation; a blood clotting potion.

2. This chapter spawned an outtake, because Karen promised Kenneth a damned good shag. It can be found on AO3, under my user name (Eccentric Amethyst), under Stolen Moments: Outtakes, Chapter 3 (A Damned Good Shag).