(1937-09-22) Midnight Visitor
Details for Midnight Visitor
Summary: Niamh hears noises where she really shouldn't have.. and ends up doing a little healing.
Date: 22 September 1937
Location: Kilkenny Apothecary Shop
Related: None

Kilkenny Apothecary Shop Diagon Alley
Sat Sep 22, 1937 ((Sat Sep 22 18:17:09 2012)) (B,2 SE)

It is a fall evening. The weather is cool and drizzling.

The store's interior is packed full of goods, with barrels of Purple Toad Warts, Flobberworm Mucus, Leech Juice and other large quantities of potion ingredients on the floor. Jars containing Knotgrass, Aconite, Newt Eyes, Ground Scarab Beetles, as well as other herbs, roots, and brightly-colored powders line the walls. Bunches of feathers, fangs, and claws hang from the ceiling. The combination of smells coming from all these different ingredients combine to create an overall stench of bad eggs and rotten cabbages that permeates every corner of the store.


Late night at the Apothecary. There are simply some things that must be done by the light of the moon, and so, while the shop is open, the lights are dimmed and the window shades are wide open to let the most amount of moonshine into the building. It's built specifically for that purpose, being a specialized shop, and so.. the proprietress has her gloves on, at her mortar and pestle, with bits of ampules of different liquids right near her hand, with the proper droppers. Nia's attention is riveted, hazel eyes watching the mixture like a hawk, making sure that nothing goes wrong..

Keenan is at the hospital doing his usual Healer thing. So it might be a little startling when there is a clattering from his 'back room' after the back door is obviously opened and shut with a solid clap. Then it's soon followed by the clittering of bottles banging around. A noise typical for someone quickly searching through the bottles.

Lifting her head at the strange sound, Niamh frowns at the sound that comes from Keenan's back room; it wouldn't be him! A glance at the clock confirms that her brother is still at Mungos, and of course when he came home, he'd check in with her before retiring upstairs. She puts her ampule down, and steps towards the wall pulling out her wand, the door is hidden there, and she calls out, wand at the ready, "Hallo? Who's in there? I know it's not who should be!" Beat. "Come out an' I'll have the antidote t'Keenan's hex ready. If ye don't, I'll have to break the door down t'get ye to Mungo's on time before ye expire."

Tim calls from the back room, "Just Tim, Niamh…" His voice sounds extremely pained. The clattering of bottles continues. "Not going to hurt you." Is all said in Irish Gaelic because he doesn't stutter when he talks in the melodious Irish Tongue.

"Well, then," and Nia effortlessly shifts into the fair Irish tongue, her wand still out, "I did mean what I said. There's a hex there, an' yer in distinct danger of being on the wrong end. Come out, and we'll see ye to rights." Whether her brother does or doesn't, Nia doesn't have access to the back room. Not when Keenan's not there, anyway. "An', the long and short of it, yer not bein' neighborly ransacking the place in his absence."

The door to the 'storage room' swings open and crouched over one arm cradling his body in the shadows of his robe and in his other hand that hangs rather limply down is holding a bottle off healing potion. "Din't wish to bleed all over your fair shop." He says through gritted teeth and sure enough a puddle of blood is starting to form from something dripping blood within his robes. "Left the price on da shelf." From his tone he has done this plenty of times, it's just the first time Niamh's caught him. He weakly lifts the bottle up and bites the cork to pull it out.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph… Timothy Moody.. what have ye gone and done?" Niamh puts her wand away as the door opens, and as he does reveal himself, she's.. aghast. "Now.." and she scoots past him through the door to get bandages so he doesn't bleed on the floor as the healing draught is taken. A quick stock of how many Keen has left is taken, and she emerges again. "Come here, ye daft.." and she reaches out to gently take the robe and open it so she can see. She tries to keep her voice down, the concern from her tones, but it is a little difficult. There is the gentle sympathy, however, the soft clucking, "What did ye try now?"

Tim gives a soft, "Ta." when she goes to get bandages. He sits on a crate by the door and then with greats amount of pain stretches up and there's several rather sizable chunks of glass protruding out of his chest and stomach. The largest one stuck in his stomach is the source of most of the bleeding.

"Just a brawl…Ireland…thrown through a window." It's an outward lie, but for her protection and his, he puts his heart into it. A window was involved. Just down the road in Knockturn Alley though. The Banshee wailed shattered the glass, but the Dark Wizard the Vigilante was after was able to fling the broken shards back and use the distraction to get away. But the brawl in Ireland before he apparated here for help is a magnificent cover story and comes across true as the fact that he was born.

Niamh clucks her tongue, her tones soften in the sight again, and she shakes her head as she reaches forward to remove the glass and set the bandage as pressure. "Drink tha' now, if'n ye please.." She pauses a moment to put a hand on his hand to see what it was he took, just in case. "Okay.." but recalls immediately, and offers, "One moment.." and getting another vial, pours it out onto the bandage. "This'll sting a bit," comes as a warning, "but after, ye'll be right as rain." And, of course, she needs the wand. Out it comes, and the purple coloured potion is pressed against the wound as the glass will be removed. The wound will smoke.. but soon enough, the pain will abate and the wound will close.

Tim grits his teeth but manages to not show too many signs of pain. To her warning he chuckles but winces in regret quickly. "I've got glass shards in my chest, it already 'stings a bit' love." His eyes flare wide at the sensations of the glass being removed and the burning of the wound. "That's a sting?" He teases as he pants in pain. The crate groaning in the white knuckled grip he now has on it. His cheeks puff as he exhales in bursts sounding a bit like a woman in the throes of birth. But finally he just gives a last deep exhale when the pain is gone. "Thank Niamh, I didn't mean to give you such a fright."

"Told ye.." Nia responds, but she really does have some semblance of bedside manner, and her tones remain sympathetic. Once it's done, she sets the bits aside and gets to cleaning things up. "Ye stay right there," and her voice remains low. "There's a constable without keepin' an eye on the place. Too much t'explain, but I'll expect ye t'apparate." See, and she's even discrete like her brother. Only.. how discrete would she be if a 'bad guy' came in? Tim.. now, he's as sweet as they come! "Well, ye did.. an' it'll take a bit to clean up after ye.. but it's forgiven as quick as that." She smiles at the slightly younger man, "Ye really shouldn't be gettin' into brawls, ye know. Particularly with those that'll toss ye through the front."

Tim is able to chuckle more now that he's knitted up for the most part. "Yeah, I'll apparate out…no problem. A Constable tho? What's the long story? You can tell me it while I do the cleaning." To her chiding about getting into brawls he chuckles more. "I'll try to remember that. Next time a big Black Irishman is coming a me lil wee ginger self, I'll say, Now hold on! Niamh O'Shea has said no brawling. So I'm terribly afraid that you can't toss me through a window today."

"Aye, an' ye better tell him that, just in that manner," Nia teases, and she's doing some of the cleaning before she steps into his office to start to make things right. Keenan'll know things were mussed, but all will be replaced. "I don't think he'll be there for too much longer," and s the presses her lips together and shakes her head before she shakes a finger, "An' I'll not say more. My best guess is that he'll be sent on his way come Monday." Or so. "So, what's been keepin' ye busy, Timmy? Gettin' the good shots? Is that what put ye through the window? Picture of a lass with the wrong lad?"

Tim is about to answer when she brings up 'picture of a lass' it triggers something that quickly has him searching through the inside pockets of his robes. He pulls out a picture and sighs with relief that it's gone unharmed. As he strokes the picture fondly he smiles a smile that Niamh's never seen on his face before. "Something like that." He murmurs and then shows her the picture. It's a lovely curly haired brunette climbing up a lamp post to tie a scarf in a big giant bow beneath the lamp part. Proud of her feat none other than Annie Taylor then turns about to give a big smile towards him before jumping down. Then the moving picture repeats itself. Tim's had it in his pocket as a lucky charm for going on almost a month now, so it does have signs of well loved wear and tear.

"Annie Taylor, is it?" Niamh looks at the picture and makes to take it from his hand. "Let's see that.." A grin comes to her face, the expression easily reaching her eyes. "Look at ye, Timmy.. she's a sweet one. Like ye. I wish ye the best." There could be a hint of wistfulness in there, but it's more.. general than specific. "She looks happy t'be with ye."

Tim actually blushes and shrugs and can't wipe the big great boyish grin off of his face. You really couldn't tell he was just impaled by glass thanks to the very thought of Annie Taylor. "Aye, she is. Happy t'be with me? Well I hope so. But that was just in the first minute of meeting her. The scarf was caught in the wind. Some driver lost it. I was taking a picture of it dancing in the wind when she walked by an' it flappy right round her face. She tied it up there like that if the driver came back for it. Like you said, she's so sweet. Thoughtful. Pretty. But she's not just pretty, a lot like ye Nia. She's so smart, and her personality just makes her even prettier." He reaches to offer his hand to take the picture back.

Niamh laughs at the story and hands the picture back, the smile remaining behind. "Too kind, Timmy.. and I do.. I wish ye the best an' hope everything works out for ye." She sets the empty bottles a-right, and soon enough, Keenan's back room is righted. With a swipe of her wand, the door is repaired, which is the most important part. Just repaired; there's no way she can override the locks and controls her brother has on the room. "If yer serious about it all, an' ye look all.. well, yer loopy smile says it all t'me." And she says that in the kindest ways. "I need t'finish this before the moon falls too much farther.." and she gestures without, back in the main floor of the shop. "If'n ye ever need and Keen's not around, tell me.. okay? Please?"

Tim nods and looks rather ashamed. "Aye, I would, but it's been made clear not to involve you in this sort of thing. I'm very appreciative of your help though. But Keen'll have my head if he learns about tonight. How about we just keep this our lil secret?" He gingerly stands up and pokes and rubs at the knitted flesh testingly he makes an impressed face as he nods. "Cheers love." He moves over to further help her fix up the place. He really didn't break anything, he knows the password so to speak, being one of the few patients Keenan trusts enough to let himself in. "I'll get out of your hair. Ta again for the help." He makes sure he's got everything and then *CRACK* away he disapparates.

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