(1937-12-23) Not Only Potions
Details for Not Only Potions
Summary: Elijah drops by the apothecary before Christmas to offer a present to Niamh, and have a chat; both business and personal.
Date: 23 December 1937
Location: MacDiarmarda Apothecary
Related: None. Ish.

MacDiarmarda Apothecary (#1058R) Diagon Alley
Fri Nov 23, 1937 ((Fri Nov 23 00:09:45 2012)) (B,2 SE)

It is a fall day. The weather is cool and fair.

Built in the late 1700s, MacDiarmarda Apothecary has been in business from the building's inception. Windows line the walls facing the street, a fireplace creates a cheery, homey atmosphere within. Shelves line the walls from floor to high ceiling, dusty wooden boxes of who knows what are held there. There is a large library ladder on wheels that helps the proprietress gather ingredients that may be out of her grasp normally. A counter stretches across the back of the store, a door behind it. There are two work areas, one next to the other. One is purely a 'cutting up' and preparing area, the table showing marks from use over the centuries. The other is the actual creating of a potion area- cauldrons, distillery and various sources of heat.

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. Shelves that line the wall are filled with jars and old wooden boxes that contain Knotgrass, Aconite, Newt Eyes.. and many, many other herbs, roots and powders gathered across the decades, gathered across the continent. Bunches of feathers, fangs and claws hang from the ceiling, and in some cases the unwary customer may knock into them. The combination of smells coming from all these different ingredients PLUS the age of the shop itself, creates an overall.. odour of musty herbs, and 'time' that permeates every corner of the room.

The shop is now in the middle of being decorated for Christmas; holly is strewn all about, hanging from shelves, settled on the mantlepiece, along with red candles. Burlap sacks are hung upon the front of the counter, and a messily decorated tree sits in a corner filled with ornaments that seem to run from 'antique' to the very new, pieced together by small, chubby hands.
(TEMP: Currently, there is a Constable of the MLE inside the shop. A quiet presence, but a presence all the same!)

Christmas is in full swing at the MacDiarmarda Apothecary shop. Snow is on the ground without, and within the shop, it is decorated with holly, with pines, all sorts of greens. An Advent calendar hangs upon the wall; the countdown to Christmas has been picked (almost) clean. There are burlap sacks hanging upon the fireplace, red candles that now are lit and burning cheerily.

As for the proprietess, Niamh is decorating little bags behind her main counter, placing bows and ties with little bits of gold and silver glitter. She's got a wand in one hand, and a bright red bag in the other, and she's fighting the handle for it to lay just right..

Elijah essentially pops up in the middle of the shop. Well, he might as well have. "Miss O'Shea. It's good to see you getting in the spirit of things." When she turns to look at him, she'll notice that he's holding a gift bag in his hand. He looks okay, like he's been taking his potions. Though, for those in the know, he really hasn't been. Let's call it a test of willpower.

Niamh jumps and has her wand out and ready, her hand going to her inkwell- a double attack before she realizes who it is.. and a relieved smile comes across her face. "Don't ye ever do that t'me, Elijah.." There's a laugh that comes out soon after, and she sets the inkwell back down. "Ye almost got beaned." Taking a deep breath, she puts a hand to her chest and takes a deep breath. "An' please.. Niamh. Ni, if y'wish." Pronounced 'Ne-ev'.

She comes out from behind the counter to stand in front of it. "Ye are looking," and she searches for the word, her tones warm, "..well. The word is 'well'."

Elijah smiles at her and says, "Sorry. I sometimes forget that people don't necessarilly like being snuck up on all the time." He moves to give her a quick hug and set the gift bag down on the table, saying, "So, how are you holding up, Niamh? I trust everything is going well?"

"I'm still a little jumpy is all," Niamh takes that step for the hug, and she makes a soft 'mmmm' sound at the hug, and when she steps back, hazel eyes are gleaming with a certain merriment. "Ye really are all cleaned up. Are ye going somewhere?" Shaking her head at the apology, she waves it away before she gestures towards the ever present constable. "So far.." Returning her attention to her other favourite hit wizard, she brings her hand up again, her tones taking a happy.. excitement. "Ye stay put. I have somethin' for ye."

Elijah smiles to Niamh and says, "Why thank you. But no, I'm not going anywhere. Just felt like cleaning up, is all, I suppose. Never hurts to look good." He smirks and clasps his hands behind his back. At the announcement of a present, his eyes light up and he nods, leaning against the counter and having a look around as she runs off.

This one.. this present is a little different than others she may give to others. Niamh turns about to run up the stairs and into her flat.. and it's a couple of minutes before her footfalls can be heard coming back down the stairs. In her hands, now, there is a somewhat large wrapped box, topped artfully with holly and a tag, 'Elijah Lovegood', with a stylized, uncial-writing that says, 'Nollaig Shona Duit, mo chara'. Merry Christmas, my friend.

Once back downstairs, her face is lit with that Christmas merryness, and she holds it out. "Nollaig shona duit." Niamh shifts her weight, and smiles, biting at her bottom lip. "I won't be here t'morrow an' Christmas day. Goin' home t'Cornwall for a few days t'see mum an' da, an' the rest of the tribe."

Elijah smiles and takes the gift happily before sliding the bag towards her. Once it's opened she'll find a small silver necklace emblazoned with a Celtic lion for her, and for Gideon a pair of silver cufflinks with the M.L.E. insignia. "I figured that Gideon probably wouldn't accept a gift from me, so I wrote your name down on the 'From' bit." He sets the box down and taps on it, "What'd ya get me?"

Niamh has the bag in hand, and opening the small package of the necklace, she takes a breath in and forgets to exhale. When she realizes that she's neglected to breath, she breaths out with a soft chuff, and gives Eli a hug again. "It is lovely, an' thoughtful." Of course, she wants to wear it, and begins to fuss with the catch to put it on. Within his box, there are.. lots of things, some edible (seed cakes, mincemeat tarts) specifically for the holiday, some teas created and crafted by her that are marked with her careful writing (energy, relaxation, stomach issues), and there is a piece of needlework. It's small; sewn carefully onto a gent's handkerchief with two words in that same, careful uncial-hand: Ta me. I am. "Just a few things here an' there." But, each bit has been carefully picked for her friend.

Elijah smiles warmly at her and pats her softly on the back as he's hugged again. He's not normally the huggy type, but it's Niamh, so he'll allow it. He opens the box and smiles even wider, saying, "I adore it all, Niamh. Thank you very much."

And if he'll allow it, then dammit, Niamh will give the man hugs! Once she's fiddled with the catch, she lets it fall to see how it hangs. Perfect! "An'.." here, she chuckles, the sound a bit.. wistful if not holding a touch of sadness, "Aye, ye may be right.. but I'll work on that for ye. He's a stubborn man, but there are none better than that t'have as a friend, an' ally. He'll come 'round," and she holds the small case with the cufflinks, "Eventually, he will know who gave it to him, an' proper thanks'll come from the man who needs t' do the thankin'."

Niamh watches as Eli goes through his box with that anticipatory smile, broadening when she catches his smile and approval of the things within. "It means, 'I am'.." Just in case he doesn't speak Irish. "Ye are very welcome." Pointing at the handkerchief, she points out, "An' it's got the year.. just in case ye begin to collect a lot of those." From her! Presents to come!

Niamh sets her bag to the side, and she comes to stand beside Eli, and her voice lowers, "I'm really doin' well now, Eli. Keen an' Adamantus helped me remember.. an' it was an obliviate charm."

Elijah smiles and leans against the counter, pulling her over to do the same, He clasps his hands in front of him and nods as he listens to her, "Yes, well, I'm sure he will, but I'll probably have more grey in my hair by then." Of course referencing the small grey streaks he has along his temples. He looks over to her and furrows his brow, "Obliviation? Who on earth did that to you?"

"I like the grey. It looks.. distinguished." Niamh raises her hand to trace the grey, and leaning against the counter as she allows herself to be pulled, her head lowers and she cants her head sideways, pressing her lips to a thin line. "Aye, obliviation.. an' I managed t'get away." Exhaling in a soft breath, she looks back up and looks… torn. "A man who is untouchable.. an' I've been told I shouldn't speak of such." A breath is chuffed and she looks away. "Would be the word of the likes of me against the likes of.. a man like who's done such a thing." There comes a long pause, before, "He's well placed in the Ministry. Important, even."

Elijah reaches up and pats her comfortingly on the arm, saying, "My dear, those people who are deemed untouchable by the law often aren't. Especially when I am the law." He quiets his voice a bit and says, "In the Ministry? Who is it, then?"

Niamh shakes her head and looks to the Hit Wizard. "Keen an' Adamantus are workin'.. well, Adamantus is.. an' I think he's tryin' to stay within.. everything." She sounds an almost pleading tone as she searches his eyes. "If I tell ye, please.. don't do anything that would jeopardize ye. I know they're tryin' to do it so all will stick." There's a pause before she asks, "Promise me. Ye need t'promise me."

Elijah nods to her and says, "Of course, Niamh. Self-preservation above all else." He smiles and pats her arm again, "I plan to help from the side-lines, if I can't get in on the frontlines."

There is a long moment of indecision before she looks to make a decision. Casting a glance at the constable, Niamh shifts and lifts onto her toes to whisper the name Magnus Troy. The Ambassador. What she doesn't mention, however, is the darker, more dangerous 'Imperius' curse that had been cast. Not yet. "Only my word, Elijah.. an' I'm nae sure I'd be able to even sit in court. Memory charms.. could easily be argued." She's no fool.

Elijah nods to her as she says the name, "Ah, yes. I knew I picked some bad vibes up from him when I met him. It's good to see that my assumptions were correct." He sniffs a bit and and scowls, saying, "Piece of trash, that man is." Seems Elijah's starting to revert into a bad mood. But hey, who can blame him?

"Obliviate over polyjuice potions, Eli," Niamh uses the nickname to see if she can't get his attention. "I cannae tell ye what Adamantus has done an' not. He's nae tellin' me much, an' I don't mind that. It's all him an' my brother." Now that's imparted that information, she ducks her head to look into his face, a touch of a smile coming back, even if she does chew on her bottom lip again. "Hey.. take a breath.. an' have a wonderful Christmas. I did make you some new potions for ye.. an' I should warn ye," those words are given with an amused gleam, "my little sister is now here, an' she's trustworthy. Young, though. 20, if a day. Her name is Sorcha. I will only have family workin' here, an' with her here, it'll be a help. She won't be makin' potions, nae unless I'm directing her."

Elijah nods to her and says, "You're right. Sorry. I'm just…dealing with stuff at home and it's starting to bleed over into everything else." He quirks his lips and stands up, resting his hands on his hips and saying, "I didn't know there was another one of you O'Sheas. Though, it doesn't surprise me." The Irish do breed like rabbits.

Niamh makes an 'awwww' sound, but it's far from condescending. "Home? Do ye care t'speak on it?" Her brows rise at the question, her head tilting. "I'll get us some wassail," which is brewing in the fireplace cauldron, "an' ye take the stool. I'll sit on the counter." The cross begins, and dipping the ladle into the spice laden mead, she offers a quiet laugh, "I have two more younger brothers.. Seosiamh an' Padraig. They're married an' have lives o'their own. Kids even. I'm an auntie."

Once done, she carries the warm cups back and hands one to Elijah. "Won't interfere with your potion."

Elijah moves to sit down, sighing a bit. "Sure, if you'd enjoy me rambling on about my troubles, of course." He folds his hands on his lap and leans ever so slightly against the bar, "I'm sure I haven't told you, but I had a girlfriend a few years ago. Well, we had a bit of a falling out, but she's come back to town and we've been having a go at making it work." He sighs deeply and continues, "I found out recently that she ran off to India with the man she owns her shop with and they engaged in…less than Christian behaviors. I suppose that's the kindest way to put it."

Placing the warm cup down, Niamh jumps onto the counter easily before retaking her drink. She sips it slowly, hazel eyes peering over the ledge of the cup, listening intently. Shaking her head, she offers, "Nae, it ne'er came up in conversation before now," quietly. The news of the behavior brings her back straight, brows rising in subdued alarm, and from the looks of it, her Irish seems to be rising for her friend's sake. "Oh, Eli.. I'm sorry. Tha's a horrible thing." Shaking her head, her lips tighten, "Did she apologize? Beg your forgiveness an' such?" Such a thing really, really is difficult.. and more than hits home for her. "Ye have a good heart if ye are takin' her back. But if there's no apologies, an' no way to be sure such doesn't happen again, no offense, but ye'd be a fool, an' I'd kick ye for it." A fond smile rises just after her words, "Because I care."

Elijah chuckles softly, it's really more of a jagged outputting of air than anything else. He looks up to her and says, "Have you heard about the chocolates with the aphrodisiacs in them? They got a batch of those, so I can't honestly dislike the woman or blame her for any of it, but it's still incredibly…painful."

Niamh narrows her eyes and nods slowly, a shadow crossing her features. "Aye," she says slowly, and chuffs a breath. She is so very, very careful with her potions that they're not misused. She understands the gravity of each and every one of them that passes through her door, and it's not only her reputation (and her family's) on the line, but it's her customer's lives, regardless of the mixture, and she takes it very seriously. No practical jokes- at least not through her potions, anyway. It's the closest thing Eli has seen to a dark mood on the Irish lass, and, like most foul moods, it passes quickly enough, and she sets a sympathetic expression in its place. "Ye an' I are in the same spot, then.. but I don't envy ye. The fact that it's there, an' .. they went to India. Because o'chocolates." She had to repeat that just to get it clear. "What has she told ye she'd do t'make it up to ye? I mean, sure.. it was a philter, but there's some.. blame? Guilt? An' a pleadin' to make it up? T'show that it was only the chocolate?"

Elijah sniffs a bit and rubs his legs, saying, "Not really, no. She just brought up a lot of stuff from when I got really…dark a few years ago with her. Then she told me that she wasn't really sure about how she felt. I suppose some feelings came up after the chocolates wore off."

The Irish lass shakes her head so violently that the curls seem almost to whip around, and she ducks her head so she can see him fully. Her Irish is certainly up, and it shows first in the thickening of that lilt. "Tha's nae fair. At all. Ye are a different man than ye were years ago. I don't even have to have known ye then t'know that now." And she means it. We're all different people.. me, ye, Adamantus.. it takes care an' faith t'turn a life 'round, an' it's nae fair t'have such thrown at ye as if ye didn't recall it yerself." Her voice lowers to almost a whisper, "Ye are a good man, Elijah.. an' ye deserve a good love. Nae one that'll harp on what ye did wrong, but delight on the things that are right.. an' good."

Elijah smiles and wrings his hands, saying, "Thank you, Niamh. It's comforting to hear those words. Really." He clears his throat and says, "I just know that there's always room for improvement. What I don't know is what I'm going to do about Miranda, though. I'm bloody well confused."

Niamh smiles warmly, fondly, and her head remains in its spot, searching the man's eyes, studying him. "I ne'er said there wasn't room for improvement. 'Til the day we die, aye.. we always need somethin'.. but ye, Elijah.." Here, she exhales in a sigh, "I cannae give ye advice.. but I do want to tell ye what to do. I'm dyin' t'simply tell ye to walk away. To break the bonds of what ye were t'be.. born again. Ta tu." Ye are. "Let the past rest in peace. Adamantus knows this, aye.. an' is workin' to do just that. But, he is also movin' on. Ne'er forget, but let it be .. the past."

Elijah is sitting on a stool next to the counter talking to Niamh about relationship troubles, no less. He smiles warmly at her and says, "I just might do that. Every time I look into her eyes I either imagine her with that…other man, or I think of myself back when I was…more messed up than I am now."

Settled still on her counter, Niamh's lips tighten to a thin line, and she nods. "Ye can't live like that, Elijah. Not your heart, not your soul. It's nae good for either. An'.. ye will be fine. I know ye will be. I know I'm nae the only one that's nae blind t'see ye as ye are now. It's why it's important t'me t'see t'the mending of you an' Adamantus too." The earnestness on her face backs her words, and finally.. she's said her piece. She finally lifts her cup to her lips and before she takes the sip, she raises her cup to him, "Slainte."

Elijah raises his own cup to her and says, "Cheers," before tipping it back and taking a long, calming sip. "I imagine I know what I have to do now, Niamh. Shan't be easy, but it's something that needs doing." He reaches up and squeezes her arm thankfully.

"I'm always here, Eli.. unless, o'course, I'm in Cornwall with m'mum an' da." Niamh chuckles, puts the cup aside after emptying it, and slides off the counter to give her friend another brief hug. "Don't let anyone tell ye what ye are. Ye are a good man.. an' remember the Irish on your hankie. It means 'I am'." She points at the center of his chest, "Ye are.. a good man."

Elijah stands up and leans in to give her a soft kiss on the cheek, saying with a deep sincerity, "Thank you, Niamh." He takes her hand and squeezes it before letting it fall back to her side. He exhales sharply and says, "This talk meant a lot to me. Though, I imagine the next talk I plan on having we'll affect me a great deal more." His eyes move to the door and he says, "No sense in putting it off, I suppose."

"It may, but it may surprise ye. The weight from your shoulders may be liberatin'.. a deep breath of air, an' a rush of well bein'. No more ties t'the Eli tha' was. Now, fully in the present." Niamh smiles and takes a step back, "I shan't be gone home long, an' ye know my door is always, always open t'ye. It's been known t'happen that stones are thrown to my windows to bring me downstairs in the darkest night." A soft chuckle sounds, "Though now, it may rouse Sorcha too."

Elijah smiles to her and says, "Thank you, Niamh. It's nice to know that there's somebody out there with the best of intentions for me. The same goes for you, too. If you ever need anything, just ask and I'll make sure it's done. No qualms, no questions." He picks up his box of goodies and gives her a wink, slipping out of the door.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License