Chapter 521 - The Apothecary (1/2)
The shadows have begun to grow in Diagon Alley, but the cobblestones are still hot, and the heat of the day is still upon them. Shoppers on the street fan themselves while others wipe the sweat off their forehead and the back of their neck. Wiser shoppers scurry with their umbrellas to keep them in the lukewarm shade and out of the sun, while other's cast cooling charms that will quickly fade away within the hour.
Despite the heat, a thin, cold faced wizard with sleeked back hair strides about at a rapid pace in dark chartreuse-colored robes. His thin lips are in a perpetual frown as his stained fingertips rapidly tap as if impatiently against the palm of his hand. The shoppers are too much in a hurry to take note of his appearance, but a few of the cart owners spot the wizard and tilt their head in acknowledgment. And as it should be considering the fact that he had found the cure for werewolfism, Damocles Belby.
Damocles pays the shop-cart owners no further attention as he makes his way to the Apothecary to pick up a few potion ingredients that were at long last in stock. He would have sent Wilfredius, but the boy was at his sister's wedding. Naturally, he had been invited, but he had pointedly declined as he would never deem it fit to descend upon such a noisy event.
Damocles sneers to himself, before darting into his destination. There were not many shoppers inside the Apothecary that smelled horribly of bad eggs and rotted cabbages on the best of days. And especially in this heat, the stench was even fouler, and weak stomachs had been known to overflow at the very smell.
Having smelled worse potion fumes from his cauldron, Damocles ignores the nauseating stench and marches towards the counter. The walls and tables of the Apothecary are lined with hundreds of jars of herbs, dried roots, bright powders, bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, snarled claws, etc.
The Apothecary owner and counter clerk is an older middle-aged wizard with his back turned to the counter as he rummages through the countless jars. Loudly clearing his throat at the counter, Damocles stiffly says, ”I am here for my purchases, Mr. Herbert.”
The middle-aged man paused amidst his task, before replying, ”You will have to wait, Mr. Belby just like the rest of my clients.”
Damocles sniffs impatiently and lets out a low grunt, before glaring at anyone in the nearby vicinity that dared to approach him much less even pause to stare at him. The rest of the shoppers within the Apothecary wisely take a hint and decide to go shopping elsewhere. Their errands as it turned out were not especially important in the grand scheme of things.
At long last, the shop owner, Mr. Herbert turns around and reaches under the counter for the readied package. Without a hint of worry or remorse, he carefully places the package onto the counter and says, ”Try to make it last this time, Belby. You are surely my most wasteful client.”
Damocles loudly snorts at the remark and hides the spark of glee in his eyes. Herbert was the only one who dared to exchange a banter of words with him nowadays. It was quite refreshing, and a tradition since the start of their business relationship.
”Mr. Herbert, I do not believe it is any of your business as to how I choose to use said ingredients,” Damocles primly retorted as he reached for the package on the counter only to find, Mr. Herbert still holding onto the parcel with a wide smirk on his face.
”It is when I have to put up with your poor apprentices tearful pleading when requesting an out of stock potion's ingredient,” Mr. Herbert firmly countered. ”Wilfredius is a right good lad, and how you managed to land an apprentice like him is still a mystery to me.”