Mad Apothecarist

I wanted to bash my head against the fucking wall. Or the table, the table was pretty close. Riddles are so easy when one knows the language in which the puzzle is written! Why have I let this asshole live?

I finally decided and bashed my head against the wall, repeatedly trying to get rid of any information that an old asshole forced me to learn. I spent so much money on this shit! And hours and hours of work I could have fucking spent on any-fucking-else! I could have been closer to finishing my research on Wolfsbane potion, or how Dementor-induced insanity works and affects the brain, or- or- anything fucking else!

Something broke.

“Henry!” Marie opened the door forcefully, bedhead in full effect. “It’s one in the morning!” she whisper-yelled, mimicking our mother perfectly. “What are you doing?!”

“I fucking hate old fucking men.”

“…ok? Lit a cigarette,” she closed the door and opened the window, sitting on my bed and throwing me poisonous looks until I sat on the windowsill and lit my cancer stick with a spark of magic. I still haven’t gotten to visiting Ollivanders – mainly because it’s not like I can use wand magic outside of school. Thanks to my NEWTs, I could submit a paper that would allow me to use my wand for up to a month, but I haven’t seen why I should bother.  “…I know I shouldn’t ask, for my own health, but… why do you hate old men?”

“I sent him an important potion ingredient after I found out that it was stolen from him, and I just happened to stumble upon it – and then the fucker sent me a riddle that I had to buy books to translate – and it was just an address, and he asked me to send him a letter if I figured it out! Fucking wrinkly asshole, I should have poisoned it!”

“And you woke me up because of that?”

“If my attempt to lower my IQ worked like that, then yes,” I breathed in deeply, hoping the nicotine would calm my mind. “It took me so fucking long to learn how to understand that fucking runic language – I could have been doing hundred other things meanwhile!” Learning languages was never my strong suit.

“And who is this old man?”

“A famous alchemist, who is around six hundred years old thanks to his invention.”

“…oh.” I raised an eyebrow at her stupidity. “Shut up; I just woke up. You should write to him.”

“To that asshole?”

“Pot, meet kettle. He was probably testing you, no? If he was, maybe he would like to meet you – and you could ween some information and knowledge from him. I think he’s old enough to know something you don’t.”

“I could have been working on improving Fred’s potion,” I frowned. Severus and I were exchanging letters and numerous howlers like crazy, discussing further experiments, but there wasn’t enough time for me to attempt anything. So I only made the potion and started to prepare for his first moon – it came so quick… Uncle Remus also tried helping, but I couldn’t look at him without feeling bad about the Crucio. He thankfully didn’t remember, but I did – in vivid detail.

At least, most of his time was taken up by taking care of Sirius, who was on house arrest for now – every piece of evidence showed he was innocent. Still, dad wanted to make everything as clear as possible, so the court was waiting for him to get better so Veritaserum wouldn’t break his already weak mind. They were living in an old townhouse owned by the Black family – a house with an extensive cellar (in the past, used to hold prisoners, according to Sirius), a perfect place for werewolves. I didn’t want Fred to change with Moony for the first time, but the potion should make them civil enough not to fight.

I hope – I might kill him this time around.

A snore tore me out of my thoughts – Marie passed out on my bed. I forgot how bad her snoring can get – even Fridrich pales in comparison to her. He’s still horrible, tho – I wonder if the younger ones have it in their futures. Elizabeth seems like a person who might beat her sister – after all, she’s the most annoying out of all of them.

I summoned a piece of paper and a pen.

Fuck you, you old wrinkly asshole.

With hate for you and your riddles,

Henry

“That seems good,” I looked at it and then drew a hand giving the reader a middle finger. “Better.” I gave it to Galileo, but not before feeding the giant raven and letting him rest after he arrived with a letter from Severus during breakfast time.

“Peck his eyes out,” I cooed at him, lightly scratching his feathered chest. “Or at least draw some blood, will you? I’ll give you all the treats you can think of if you bring me evidence of his torture!” He cawed, fluffing up and pushing into the petting hand. “Oh, yes, you are my good little torturer, aren’t you?”

“This is the scariest you’ve ever been,” Ludvik proclaimed loudly enough for me to notice he was watching me with a quirked eyebrow.

“Love you.”

“Mom! Henry finally lost it!” I rolled my eyes and cackled when he backed out of the living room.

***

Dear Henry,

I was delighted to hear from you after such a long time – I expected you to translate it faster, but I guess that the written form of Mermish is considered obscure nowadays.

I heard a lot about you, especially after I talked to Albus about the fact that the stolen stone was sent to me by post. I never told him your name – but I did ask about the Potter kid that was in the newspaper, as many people want to ask about you. I doubt he found it suspicious, but you never know with Albus.

If you don’t have any plans for the end of the month, I’d like to meet the young man that wrote me such a lovely letter and made my wife laugh hard enough to cry.

With hate,

Old wrinkly asshole.

P.S.: Fuck you too.

***

Hi, asshole,

I don’t meet with old men in alleyways.

With hate,

Henry BUNDY-Potter

***

Dear Henry,

I wasn’t asking to meet you in a dark alleyway – we could go to a restaurant or for a cup of coffee in the Diagon Alley. You could bring a friend if me being a stranger makes you uncomfortable.

It would be a pity never to meet such an amusing young genius.

With hate,

Nicolas Flamel.

P. S.: Your bird is terribly aggressive.

***

Hello, disgusting coffee drinker,

This is really tiring Galileo – yes, my aggressive raven. You must be a complete asshole to make him irritated.

Sure, we can meet on the 28^st of July – just don’t write to me anymore, or Galileo WILL peck your eyes out.

With hate,

Henry.

***

I liked Sirius’ house – it was dark, big, and full of books. The last part was the most exciting, unsurprisingly. The elf heads were a bit much even for me; however, I can respect the balls to have them out with house elves making your tea every day for decades. Speaking of house elves…

“Werewolves! The blood traitor brought nasty creatures into the Mistress’s house, the disgusting dog master…” he kept muttering, occasionally changing the slurs and curses but always being nasty. I almost felt a kinship with him – almost, because he was badmouthing my friend.

“Kreacher, would you shut the fuck up? I suffer from lack of sleep, and my magic might decide to put your head next to the others.”

“Kreacher would prefer that over serving the blood traitor and his friends,” the tiny creature hissed at me.

“Would you?” I raised an eyebrow. We were the only ones awake – Sirius and the two calm werewolves were sleeping together in the cellar, curled up in one big fluffy pile. I was excluded because human scent supposedly triggers werewolf senses even when under the influence of Wolfsbane.

This meant I was in the kitchen, trying to focus on a book and drinking teacup after teacup.

“The half-blood brat should sleep,” he finally broke the silence that descended onto us.

“Planning on stuffing yourself?”

He sneered, his big sharp nose making it look even better than Severus’.

“You really hate Sirius, right?”

“…why?” his big eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“How about pranking his room? I have a feeling you can’t do it yourself.”

We made sure his bed would always feel kind of wet when he lay in it – and that it would creak annoyingly. I also rigged his faucets to spray water into his face and put stinky potion ingredients under his copper tub – it smelled like wet dog and shit, something the twins like to use in their stink bombs(it was my revenge for the fact that they forced me to worry outside).

Kreacher helped me hide the runes and ingredients with minor spells I, with my meager control, couldn’t fathom doing and even showed me that one of the feet of Sirius’ chair was damaged in the past, so I only had to undo the sticking charm.

It took only an hour, to my disappointment. I fell into my chair at the table and tried to think about what to do next. “Do you have a potion lab here?”

“Of course. But children is not allowed to go inside.”

“I’m working on my Masters, Kreacher,” I deadpanned. His wrinkly forehead rose – a version of raising an eyebrow, probably – but after a minute of thinking, he led me to a room next to the entrance to the cellar. It was in a state expected of a disused lab, but it wasn’t something that couldn’t be undone. I turned on the lights and looked at the well-preserved ingredients, ignoring the thick layer of dust, and then internally fawned over the quality of the stirring sticks and flawless thick cauldrons. “Do you have a wet rag?” I stumbled back when one hit me in the face – Kreacher looked mighty pleased with himself.

I threw a potion vial at him, but he disappeared with a pop. Bastard.

I cleaned the table and cutting board, glad the house elf gave me a magical rag that automatically cleans itself. The pointy-stabby pretties were hidden under thick glass, so they didn’t need to be uncovered from an even thicker layer of dust. After cleaning the cauldrons, I was happy enough with my surroundings to start working.

***

I opened the door to the cellar and walked in – promptly turning around. “It’s not like we have anything you don’t have,” Remus huffed tiredly.

“There are things I don’t want to have seared into my brain,” I answered, face as red as if I was furious. I ducked out of the way when Sirius tried to attack me – I meant, hug me – and marched out of there with hasty steps, throwing the clothing I brought onto the ground. They had blankets to make comfortable nests out of them and to cover themselves (at least I thought they would) – my poor, virgin eye…

I came back with potions – at least Remus and Fred had pants on. Uncle had one of his cozy sweaters on, Fred was half-asleep in pants, and a blanket was thrown over his naked shoulders. “Sirius – nutrient potion, bone-strengthening potion, metabolism potion, and go eat biscuits.”

“Biscuits?” He livened.

“My mother sent them,” I pushed the potions into his hand and almost kicked him when he made faces at them. “NOW!” At least he tends to be as obedient as a dog when I raise the volume. “Remus – nutrient potion, pain reliever, muscle relaxant, and I’ll give you something for sleep later. Go, they have chocolate chips.” He took off as if there was a fire on his heels.

“Nurse Bundy,” Fred saluted weakly.

“I have the same potions for you – bar nutrient potion – as I gave Remus. Do you need help to get to your room?”

“Don’t I have a mandatory cookie waiting for me?”

“Mum sent two boxes,” I took a package out of one of my enlarged pockets. “She would prefer if we came for lunch, but I told her you would probably sleep the day away. Which means we are going tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you’re not her biological child?” He was the only one who obediently chugged his potions before biting into a cookie. I sat across from him and took one too. “Why did you give Remus the nutrient one?”

“I noticed his ribs were too visible,” I shrugged. “But it was Sirius’ request that made me do it.”

“What were you doing during the night?” he speedily finished his second cookie and went after another.

“Kreacher showed me the lab, so I cleaned it a bit-“

“You cleaned it?” he raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

“-and tried to analyze all the fucking ingredients in Wolfsbane and how they interact, tried to reverse-engineer the process… all the fun stuff.”

“Are you planning on improving it?”

“It would be a good project for my Master’s, wouldn’t it?” I shrugged. “Or at least as a part of it. I would like to talk to werewolves that live without the potion – I wonder how many drawbacks it has. I also need to bully Sirius into teaching me how to turn into an animal, so I can spend the full moons with you, so you’re not alone during school. I doubt people would like to have Remus on the premises after the Prophet got loud about his creature blood.” Dad managed to stop the ‘defamatory statement’ after the first print, but it spread like fire before we managed to do anything.

“That was a jump,” he rolled his eyes. “Think Minnie wouldn’t want to cuddle?”

“I think she might bite harder than I do.”

“Do you think I’ll be fine before the World Cup? After my second moon?”

“It’s a week before, so I doubt there will be any issue. Besides – who would want to go there?”

“You are going,” he snorted and swept off the crumbs from the last cookie. I stood up to help him to his feet – which was good because he stumbled like a newborn fawn.  

“I owed George,” I pouted, still irritated about that bit. “I’m going to ruin if for all of you, assholes. And Hermione will help me!”

“Daphne is not going?”

“She wrote that she has better things to do. And Luna will be with her dad in a place she ‘cannot tell me about’. Cunt.”

“It will be like our first year – just three lions and one little raven.”

“I’m far from little!”

“Cute little raven,” he cooed, pinching my cheek, so I kicked him in the shin. He yelped in pain, but only hugged me around the shoulders instead, putting some of his weight on me.  “Let’s go get some sleep – you look like you need it.”

Somehow, we ended up in the same bed. Again. Consequently, we were soaked simultaneously by a fucking mutt with the brain of a fucking child! “SSSIRIUSSS!”

“YOU STARTED IT, PRONGSLET!”

“I’LL KILL YOU!”

I didn’t, unfortunately.

If nothing else, it would win Kreacher over…

***

We had to exchange three more letters to know where and when to meet – I despised the owl Flamel sent me but managed not to break its neck in the exchange of notes. So, I knew where to look for them and arrived around the correct time, but the place they chose was packed with old people.

Thankfully, I took Galileo, who knew the old alchemist – and I took an unwilling prisoner with me to guard me like a loyal dog. Unwilling might be a strong word, but Fridrich wasn’t planning on going with me an hour ago.

Remus apparated us to Diagon Alley, so it didn’t take long for us to get to the coffee shop. Thank-fucking-fully.

“I had a date planned,” he bemoaned.

“Bad luck that mum picked you,” I grinned sadistically and petted Galileo’s beak.

“Of course, she picked me – Marie would kill anybody who would touch you, but she lacks the aura of ‘don’t mess with my nerdy brother’.”

“I think Marie is much more intimidating,” I argued for the sake of arguing. I would rather get punched by her than Fridrich – although she would go for a soft spot, my older brother would just go for the face… hm…

“Because she looks like mum,” he snorted. “Why are kids looking at a broom?”

“It’s like a motorcycle for wizards,” I waved my hand. “Or a cool bike, I suppose. They play Quidditch on it.”

“The sport twins play?”

“Exactly.” Galileo took off and attacked an old white-haired man – tugging on his hair. “Our target!” I grinned and went to the disgusting pair of coffee drinkers. “Galileo, he’s not a mouse to eat.” I extended my arm that he hopped on and then went onto my shoulder, where he pressed himself into my neck and apparently chose to take a nap.

“Henry, I’d assume?” The old man stood up and extended his arm for a handshake.

“And you are Nicolas,” I sat across an old lady with a ring on every finger of her hands. “Perenelle, right?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Mr. and Mrs. Flamel, if you’d prefer.”

“Not really. This is my brother, Fridrich Bundy.” A sibling of mine, who took the man’s hand like a boring person.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled at them with all his Bundy charm. Nicolas smiled back at him, but his wife didn’t – I already liked her more than the wrinkly asshole.

“So, what do you want?” I asked.

“I wrote that we wanted to meet you – and personally thank you for being an honorable young man.”

I scared Galileo with my loud outburst of laughter – he jumped off and settled closer to Perenelle, who gently stroked his back. Fridrich wasn’t much better, the fucking bastard – he was clutching his ribs in no time.

“Honorable!” he brayed and slapped his knee.

“That was good,” I cackled and swiped the tears of amusement from my eye. “I must tell that one to everybody; they’ll have a good laugh.”

“Glad to amuse you,” Nicolas spontaneously developed a tick for some reason. “Anyway – whatever made you send our stone; we are thankful to you.”

“We owe you our lives,” his wife stepped into it. “Albus told Nic that you are a brilliant individual so we thought you would be happy to accept some sort of payment of knowledge from us for your… generosity.”

“Alchemy books are scarce at best – even in my preferred bookshop. But from what I gathered, it’s an archaic version of potion-making. The only difference is the art of transmutation, the change of ingredients to gain different performance outcomes. Am I correct?” He nodded. “How would that benefit me?”

“I think my experience and council are something others would kill for,” the old man muttered and stirred his coffee.

“Innovation cannot come without thinking outside the box,” I shrugged. I would ask him about werewolves and if he knows something about Wolfsbane, but I don’t want somebody to overhear us and then find out about Fred.  

“And my little brother is one proud asshole.” I punched Fridrich’s arm.

“What is your academic interest, young man?” Perenelle asked me calmly. She reminded me of Minerva, whose hand slipped a bit when she poured whisky into her tea.

“I want to be a healer, but I primarily specialize in potions, transformation, runes, herbology, healing magic, and charms. And Creatures because my friend likes to talk about them.”

“That is a lot to specialize in,” she hummed. “Why healer, if I may ask?”

“I always wanted to be a doctor.”

“We believe he wants unrestricted access to bodies for experiments, so he could create a real Frankenstein.”

“Frankenstein’s monster, idiot.”

“Potayto, potahto,” the irritating blond waved his hand, so I fired a nonverbal jinx that made him yelp.

“One of them is incorrect, but it doesn’t surprise me that a stupid fucking cunt like you wouldn’t even know his own first fucking language!”

“I wondered when you would break,” he grinned with pleasing pain still ebbed into his feature. “What was that?”

“Biting jinx.” I glared into his annoyingly blue eyes.

“I myself specialize in runes,” Perenelle interrupted our heated battle of wills. “Nic likes to flaunt his Mermish, but that’s the only runic alphabet he really knows.” She ignored her husband’s pouting.

“You like languages?” I looked away from Friedrich – I already knew I’d suffer, but he won’t do it in front of witnesses. I should ask Remus to Apparate me to the Burrow to escape my inevitable death and/or torture. Or, I could make a trip out to visit Hermione. Take her mind off a specific letter she’s waiting for. 

Huh. Unusually nice of me, isn’t it? Mum might even drive me there if I use that excuse.

“A bit, but I mainly enjoy working in languages others cannot decipher, making my rune work much more effective. The Goblins use a similar modus operandi and are hailed as the best warders. Although, I much more prefer to work on a smaller scale.”

“I did my eye,” I popped it out, charming it clean. I need to replace it anyway, so some damage from the charm shouldn’t be a huge problem. She took it without the grimace I wished for (at least Nicolas looked disturbed).

She touched the top of her glasses and stroked it until she seemed happy. Does she have charmed glasses? That’s cool… not as cool as my eye, of course, but I could work on something… When I have time.

“The charms and runes need to be replaced.”

“I know.”

“Thermal vision?”

“It helps with brewing.” And it is fucking cool.

She pulled out a notepad and started to copy the runes, then motioned for me to come over. “It might be labor-intensive, but if you change these runes-“

***

“And I thought you would be crazy,” Fridrich muttered to Nicolas.

“She used to be much wilder when we were much, much younger,” the older male smiled.

“I hope Henry will also grow into a calm old lady before he manages to destroy humanity.”

“A girl might put him straight.”

“…I’ll rather bet on the age.”