Like a Moth to a Flame

It had been no mean feat for a man with a bum knee to mount a thestral by himself in the middle of the night. Still, now that Hogwarts was short of healers, St. Mungo's had established an agreement to provide rotating healers to the school's hospital wing. Robert had decided to take the first shifts because he wanted to ensure that the potions and supplies were current and up to snuff. He had with him his strong but elegant black cane that he used for walking these days, and a messenger bag that he'd put an extension charm on and had crammed it full of thingamabobs and whatnots that only a potions master or a man poised to stay for a few shifts was bound to need. He'd taken a portkey to Hogsmeade and had met the thestral at the grounds around the station, precisely on time, just as the headmaster had assured the beast would be.

The flight itself had been spectacular. It was a warm night, full of bright stars and gentle winds. He almost wished he could stay on the netherhorse much longer than the short flight had actually taken, but all too soon the intimidating spectre of the castle rose over the horizon, calling the flight to an all too short end. The thestral landed with a smooth gliding stop in front of the entrance, and he was met by the headmaster and escorted to the hospital wing, even though Robert could still remember the way perfectly well. Climbing to the fourth floor tower floor, on the other hand, made his knee ache and swell before they reached their destination. The headmaster asked if Robert required anything, and Robert had asked only for perhaps some Earl Grey. It was brought for him by a house elf while Robert was inspecting the room and the supply cabinets.

The place needed a thorough cleaning but what caught his attentions far more was the poor state of the supply cabinets. It looked to him as if the cabinets had been pilfered and some of the most necessary potions were missing. Well, he wasn't entirely surprised, potions addictions being what they were. Still, they had to be replaced immediately. He cast new protective charms on the cabinets and decided he would have to go to the potions lab--which was all the way down in the bloody dungeon, which meant he had to go all the way down, and then all the way back up again. His knew his knee would not be thanking him for it. Perfect, he sighed, gathering up his well worn and well loved pocket sized book of the most difficult healing potions, he made his way downstairs.

By the time he got there, he was limping badly. A clock somewhere struck three. That gave him some time. He gathered some supplies and, knowing the most important healing potions by heart, he pulled up a stool, leaned his cane against the table, and began quickly chopping herbs and chucking them into a cauldron, falling into a rhythm with the pounding in his badly swollen knee--pound, chop, chop, choppity, chop, chop, pound. There was much work to do, and he had at least 5 and a half hours before the students would even begin to start filtering here for morning classes--unless there was some little adventurer who decided to roam the halls against all the curfew rules.

It would certainly be easy for one to assume that the person responsible for the absentees in the Hospital Wing’s potion supply cabinet was the known-but-never-convicted illegal potions supplier occupying the position of Potions Professor. Easy, yes, but utterly erroneous as rumours often are where Alexander Edgecombe is concerned. In this particular tale, he actually found himself occupying the position of protagonist as he had been earnestly endeavouring to find the true culprit since term had begun.

The only thing Alec was guilty for was the absence of the cooling salve. He was about three days away from replacing it and he would not have taken it had he not been desperate for a reprieve. When the dragon bite acted up, it was a sensation unlike any other he had ever experienced. It was as though fire was engulfing first his forearm and then the entire left side of his torso. The salves were necessary to ward off the majority of the pain and eventually it ebbed away.

No, his clients were particular and timely with their orders – two traits which made them predictable. Alec often had their bottles corked, labelled, and boxed ready for distribution long before the individuals appeared on his doorstep or their owls tapped at his window. No, this wasn’t his handiwork.

His handiwork was going some way to remedying the stock but Merlin, did Alec need a break.

The former-Ravenclaw had yet to settle into the dungeons and he was sure that his decision to turn his sitting room into a brewery once it became apparent he was losing the battle with the stock room likely didn’t help. Still, he had two small cauldrons of Wolfsbane bubbling away and half a dozen others of varying sizes brewing a myriad of helpful potions. A particularly putrid-looking cauldron had six litres of Skele-Grow in it and as Alec drifted towards the door to his rooms he gave it a wide berth, just resisting the urge to hold his nose.

After donning his favourite outer-robe, the professor took to the deserted corridors. It was late. Or early. Alec wasn’t sure which. Either way, it was not the sort of time for anyone to be using a lab. The light skirting out beneath the door caught his eye immediately and he knew that it would be a mistake not to investigate.

Removing his wand from the inner pocket of his cloak, Alec crept towards the door, his hand carefully encircling the handle. Taking in a breath, Alec exhaled and pushed the door open.

“Lupin. Robert Lupin. What in Merlin’s name …?” Then it hit him. “The Healer rotations. Of course.” He let his eyes drift over Robert’s work. “You’ve seen the cupboard.” A statement. Not a question. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any ideas?”

"Ah," Robert said, looking up at the man there with him. "Professor Edgecombe, I presume. The pleasure is mine. I have seen the cupboards, indeed, and yes, I agree, their state is less than adequate. I have no concrete proof, but I can make a couple of quick deductions. What I saw were that some potions were more heavily pilfered than others, especially things like pain potions, sleeping draughts, potions for wakefulness, and the like. In short, the things I saw missing are the same sorts of things that I see witches and wizards overdosing themselves on in the emergency wards of St. Mungo's. While those aren't the only ones missing, my first thoughts are that the bandits are either addicts or their suppliers. I suppose the thief could be some entrepreneurial soul, but that seems less likely. The only question I have is how did they get the means to get past the enchantments on the cabinets themselves. The spells that I found on them were actually good ones that should have stopped whoever was after the potions." He used his knife as a bench scraper to pick up his cuttings and add the to the cauldron.

"We will need to secure this batch far better--from students and from staff. It is a pain potion, but, this batch is a larger bath of double strength. I will take half and dilute it to regular strength but I will leave the other half in this double strength consistency for more severe injuries. After all, a new school year will son be upon us, and with it will be a good deal of excitement and, probably, recklessness. We may need it. Pardon me, one moment." He got up, took his cane and limped over to the lab's shelves and took a look at the jars there and sighed. He didn't figure Edgecombe would keep something like that on the lab shelves as opposed to the stores anyway.

"So tell me about yourself, Professor..." He began. He shuffled the bottles a bit to make sure he hadn't missed something and then asked. "Where is your fire seed?" he asked. "Did I miss it in your stores when I looked there earlier? I'd like to get some other cauldrons going, and I'd like to brew some antidote while I'm at it, but I can't find any fire seeds." He knew he could order some, but if Edgecombe had some, it would save time.

Alec would have been a liar if he had claimed he wasn’t slightly over-awed by the presence of Robert Lupin in his lab. And the pleasure was his! Merlin, how wrong he was. No, the pleasure was all Alec’s. The man took a seat on one of the stools, half to stop himself from fooling down in shock. He kept his features impassive, though. He didn't want to let on that he was most definitely a fan of the elder man's work just yet.

“Please,” he shook his head. “Call me Alec. Professor or not, you’re not my student. There’s no need for formalities.”

Alec nodded along, following Robert's train of thought. They agreed, it seemed, on what was going on. He had an inkling about who might have been behind the absence of the Pepper-Up Potions but he trusted that the young werewolf in question would have informed him about it and perhaps even asked for Alec to brew them specially. He would have done. They had that understanding between them. Therefore, though Alec had a feeling it might be who he thought it was, there was plenty of doubt there. And even if it was Ariel, it is unlikely that he was behind the rest of it. Which meant there were multiple people pilfering the stocks. It could only get more complicated, couldn't it, rather than easier.

"Hogwarts boasts some talented witches and wizards, Mr Lupin," Alec stated gently, a smile curling at the side of his mouth. "And for what talent they lack they make up for with a mind to see a job done. It isn't any wonder that they got past the enchantments, whoever these little buggers are. I have been trying to get the Headmaster to take me seriously but he seems ..." Alec rolled his lips together, frustration knitting his brows together. "Well, I think he suspects it's me. I have a particular ... past," he decided refer to it diplomatically. "I have fulfilled orders for potions in the past that have gone to certain unsavoury individuals. He believes I may be cutting corners in pursuit of such ends."

He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he made the decision to make it a past-tense story rather than present-tense, as though the cauldrons bubbling away down the hall weren't partially working towards such orders.

"I cannot, however, claim responsibility for this. It would be completely unprofessional to behave like that," he added, wrinkling his nose with genuine distaste. "I would not compromise my duty to the students."

He nodded, already considering what charms he would lay across the cupboard in order to ward off potential thieves. He watched the man move awkwardly around the room, his brows furrowing.

"You might need the pain potion more than the students," he observed, his eyes falling to the knee that appeared to be the source of the Lupin man's discomfort.

He felt his stomach twist with a little bit of excitement as the man asked after him personally. It's not every day one of your heroes is interested in you as a person, now, is it? But as Alec opened his mouth, the man asked after the fire seeds.

"I keep them in a lock-box," he told Robert, flicking his wand at one of the cupboards. "My third years last year did not conduct themselves with much distinction and caused a ruckus that they are still paying for." He chuckled, levitating the box out of the cupboard and towards Robert's table. "It's easier to keep them out of the way. I am hoping my newest crop of third years prove more trustworthy."

"What is it you'd like to know about me, Mr Lupin?" He asked after a moment, quirking up an eyebrow. "I fear I might be something of an open book ... or at least one where the pages have been filled in with others."

"Alec, then, it is," Robert flashed him a smile. "Yes, Hogwarts has always had a certain number of clever little devils. Well, this will present a significantly bigger challenge because I set an ageline around them. No one under 40 can get in." He paused and glanced back at Alec. "I'm going to have to move that back a tad, aren't I?" he was slightly amused by it. "Sorry about that. I'll fix it when I go back upstairs. He continued to listen to Alec's story about the headmaster doubting his credibility and noticed the awkward avoidance. Alec wasn't vehemently protesting his innocence about illegals, but right now, that wasn't Robert's concern. Illegal potions making had always existed in some form or another, and Robert had seen his share. Something rang true about Alec's insistence that he was not guilty of pilfering potions from the school.

"Indeed," Robert said. "If one knows how to make them, it seems to be a ridiculous notion that you would need to steal them if you could, far more easily, replicate them yourself. I believe you. Headmaster 'Lestrade' seems to have come to an incorrect deduction." He turned back, pivoting on his cane, to look at Alec. "We shall have to see what we might do about that, in due time, of course--if you like, that is." When Alec commented on his knee, Robert nodded slightly.

"It's a pain where a potion won't reach," Robert said, only half figuratively. "Shattered it awhile back on a business trip, believe it or not. Laid me up for longer than I care to admit. Funny thing about my healing abilities, I can heal others, but I cannot heal myself. It doesn't work that way. I heal by touch, and this has been significant enough that it's going to be a right touchy business to get it to all finally come together the way it should--if it ever does. My wife would tell you it's because I'm a stubborn git, and she would be at least half right. The end result, though, is that I might not be making repeated trips up and down the tower stairs. You'd have no objection to my sending you a paper bird if I need something all the way down here, then?" He watched the fire seeds being obtained from a lock box. It spoke of wisdom and precision. This man was not careless, and surely not careless enough to let potions fall into the wrong hands. So, was it all so simple then, that a student has simply hacked the charms on the cabinet?.

"Thank you. That's just what I needed, and in answer to your question, tell me all about your interest in potions and how you got to have such skill at your relatively young age, no offense," Robert smiled, and a new thought hit him. "Wait. Tell me. Is this years divination's teacher skilled enough to be able to work with any residual energies? If so, we might be able to find a list of potential suspects in this matter."

As the elder man spoke, Alec took a moment to observe him, aware that he might not have the opportunity to do so again. He was the sort of man that wore mature years well and seemed to be waiting for the entirety of their youth for their prime, the kind of individual that flourished with the wisdom years brought. He could also sense the power and, Merlin, was there power. If the Edgecombes could do one thing well then it was sense power. Their failing was that they did not always know what power to align themselves with.

Turning on the stool a bit, Alec flashed Robert a grin as he conceded he would need to lower the limit of the age-line. He nodded and shrugged one shoulder as if to say that there was no rush in the matter. As Robert moved on, Alec nodded again. He seemed to sense immediately what the Headmaster did not. Alec had wanted to express the sentiment himself – admittedly with a lot more arrogance and affected annoyance. He would have even added that whatever he brewed far surpassed what the former Matron of the Hospital Wing had stocked in there. She had never really trusted the potions professor, choosing to believe rumour instead.

“I did find it quite the …” Alec rolled his lips together, unsure which word he would choose. “No, it was insulting.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I would have thought, since he hired me, he would have credited me with a little bit more skill.” Then, with a smirk, “what did you have in mind?”

Alec was proud of his work as a potioneer. He was always striving to get better and every year he was getting closer to earning his mastery. He was prouder, still, of his work with the students and felt that it was the right path to be on. So, for that reason more than any other, he resented the Headmaster’s opinion of him and he was endlessly irked by the students responsible for the thefts. If they needed something, he hoped they could have come to him.

“I am wondering whether it might be worth extending an olive branch,” he said, thinking aloud. “Hypothetically, if the thefts were … for personal use, if the student was in pain or hurt or something, anything else. Addicted, even. I would want them to come to me. I would want them to trust me to help fix things for them.”

Alec sucked in a breath of air through his teeth as Robert described the injury. He chuckled a little as he went on, talking about his wife. Alec got to his feet, already knowing what he needed. He had been working on something for a little while, more for himself than anything else, and he was moved to share it with Robert. It was an answer to his need to soothe his bite mark, which he touched through the sleeve of his robe as he moved towards the cupboard at the back of the lab. He had been in this particular lab the other night and he had stored his results in another lock box in the back cupboard.

“I have something that might help. It’s not perfect yet,” he warned, drawing the box out with his wand and setting it onto the nearest table. Out from inside he produced a small white jar like any other that you might have seen that housed cream.

“I had a particularly nasty encounter with a dragon in my twenties. Embarrassingly but luckily, it was only a small one. The scar still gives me jip, though, and a fair bit of pain. I was filching the cooling balms from the cupboard when my ability to source them was outpaced by my need so I started to make my own. I went heavy on the pain relieving ingredients. Applied directly, it should do the trick,” he finished, tossing the jar in Robert’s direction. “But I’ve got no problem with fetching you what you need, sir.”

“Oh, well,” Alec grew bashful. “I…well, I’m not a natural talent. I never was. I struggled horribly through my first two years at Hogwarts. I was late joining, too. The war delayed everything,” he shrugged a shoulder. “But my professor saw potential somehow … somewhere,” a chuckle bubbled up from his chest. “She and, later, the master I studied under once I left Hogwarts pushed me as hard as they could. I suppose I just absorbed their talent, in a way. They had so much to give me, I would have been a fool not to take it on board.”

Alec hummed thoughtfully for a moment, considering the Divination professor. A strange individual but kind enough. He had heard from his students, though, that they left much to be desired in terms of ability. His seventh years in particular, perhaps feeling the pressure of their looming N.E.W.Ts, were particularly damning.

“I don’t know about the professor but I know of a student who might be helpful. I think she may have a touch of the sight. Plus, I think she might like to talk to you. She is reasonably worried about what the future holds for her outside of the castle. She is looking for an opportunity to get some experience and perhaps secure herself an apprenticeship. Her brother lapsed into the Ministry but I think she might like the fast pace of St. Mungo’s a little better.”

“Well,” Robert said, casting a slightly mischievous grin towards the young potions professor, “that depends, my new young friend, on just how adventurous you are. Chiefly, if we can prove to the headmaster that either you could not have done it, or that there are others who just as well might have or could have, it reduces suspicion on you. However, I would rather know who took them and why because I believe, as you do, that when we find the culprit, that will open a whole new can of worms that the headmaster might not be willing to face. It would not be the first time that a headmaster would want to turn a blind eye to what was going on under his nose.

“I am very interested in this young student you know who you think might be interested, and, I am all the more interested in a student who might like St. Mungo’s. Frankly, I always enjoy mentoring. If she’s interested and promising, well, who knows? I think that might serve us very well to either see what we might discover upstairs first, though. I admit, my look at the hospital wing itself was superficial and was not designed to catch a potions thief. Perhaps, when I finish here, we might go through it again together. How are your deductive reasoning skills? And, if you’re not opposed to firing up a caldron or two, we might finish this list of potions that need made in half the time. I’d be honored to work with you.” He was keenly interested in the jar of ointment that Alec offered him. He opened the lid and sniffed it and smiled.

“Very interesting,” he said, approving. “A nice blend,  and definitely away from the norms. And the pain of a dragon bite is certainly difficult to manage with any sort of potion, so if this works, it surely out to take the sting out of this knee. I shall try it. Thank you. You impress me. Edgecombe. You have some excellent skills, if this is any sample. Well done.” He took the fire seed and added it to his cauldron, poured in a measure of water from a beaker, fired the burner, and stirred the cauldron gently.

“That can run a bit now without me,” he said, and he turned his attentions to the cauldron that was already boiling. He checked it carefully. “Almost,” he said. He added just a wee pinch of a powder from a bottle that had been in his bag. “This is an odd little twist I’ve found, Edgecombe. It’s the crushed seed of a mayhaw berry. The berries are sour little buggars from southeastern America—like the New Orleans area. The berries are much like the size and shape of a cranberry, and not far off on taste either. Muggles use them much like cranberries too, but I’ve found that it is a much more cost effective way of doubling the effectiveness of an antibiotic potion without doubling your cost.”

Yes, if Edgecombe were an illegal potions man, then Robert was giving away a little bit of discovery, but it wasn’t very big of one, so he didn’t feel badly about letting that one go. Sometimes one had to give a little to get a little back.

"Give it just another half a tick and then give it a stir yourself. See what you think of it.”

Adventure. Well, if nothing else, Alexander Edgecombe had a sense of adventure – particularly if it included warmer climes. Taking the job at Hogwarts had been mad considering he was a man who felt the cold most keenly and was forever applying warming charms to ensure it didn’t penetrate down to his bones. A draughty castle was quite possibly the worst place for him but he got along well enough and Alec wasn’t sure whether, in the case of the Headmaster, it was better the devil he knew. He knew all-too-well that any accusation of corruption would need to be filed with the governors and Alec couldn’t, in good conscience, fail to bring it to their attention. If he and Robert proved who was taking the potions it would mean the end for the Headmaster.

“We’ll see how it goes,” he replied evenly, rolling his shoulders a little, feeling stiffness begin to set in. “I already lack a friend in the Headmaster. I am not in much of a hurry to make him an enemy just yet – and enemy I fear he will be.”

As Robert addressed his suggestion about the student, Alexander nodded, pleased with proceedings. The girl hadn’t the first clue about what she wanted to do. He hoped at least a little bit of a foray into healing might lend itself to a decision being made. If nothing else, she might be able to cross that avenue off of her list.

“I am sure she’ll be able to help us with the cupboard.” Alec replied, glancing down at his watch, “though, we might have to wait until after breakfast before she can be any help to us. Unless she’s roaming the castle halls like you and I, she should be snug in bed at this time.”

When he mentioned cauldrons, Alec barked out a laugh.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, lifting his wand.

Two cauldrons leapt off of the shelving unit at his call and settled themselves on the work stations.

“What’s on the list? Can I take a look?”

The inspection of the cream Alec had offered was one that he observed with bated breath and when Robert expressed his approval, a bright smile lit up the younger man’s face.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” he said carefully with a grateful nod. “The dragon bite is intolerable at times, I fear.” He chuckled ruefully. “I was younger, foolish, and a bit too brave for my own good, I reckon. But I suppose it’s an interesting party anecdote.”

Alec’s eyebrows rose and he got up to inspect the ingredient Robert had added into the potion. The colours within the cauldron swirled and a little bit of sweet smelling vapour lifted from the surface of the potion inside. At Robert’s encouragement, Alec set the potion into a brief whirl.

“Ah,” he murmured. “Now, that is quite something.”

"Have a look at the list for yourself," Robert motioned to the notepad lying on the worktable. "Though, I admit, I think you have some peculiar things in the cabinets upstairs that I really can't imagine using in a school hospital wing. For example--that bottle of Scintillation Solution. Do tell why on earth you would ever want to treat a student so that they would glow and shimmer? Why would that ever be medically appropriate? And the same with the Dogbreath Potion. Why do we want a student to breathe fire? Seriously, the entire inventory needs an overhaul because that's not the whole of it."

Robert had made a list on the left hand side of the notepad page on what he had found upstairs, and a list on the right of what he thought to be appropriate and necessary and yet not in the potions cabinet. Then on the bottom of the page he had made a note to self. "Refresh dressings, splints, bandages, etc. Inquire about Suture Solution, Plasma Potion, Wolfsbane, Thick Golden Potion"

Amongst the list of things missing, he had noted, "Poison Antidote, Blemish Banisher, Pepperup Potion, Wideye Potion, Sleep Solution, Pain Potion, Calming Draught, Invigorate Draught, Veritaserum, Strength Potion, Ten Second Pimple Vanisher."

He presumed there were some things, like the Thick Golden Potion, that had not been taken because the thief had not known what it was used for. The label had been smudged on the bottle, and even then, it had only been abbreviated as TGP, although, Robert could not understand why it had been abbreviated. That was not a norm for potions. (Where the devil were they getting some of their regular stock, anyway?) However, in terms of potions, it was one of the more valuable ones not because of any rare ingredients but rather because it was so bloody time consuming to brew. That suggested only a rudimentary knowledge of potions at best. No, the potions professor had not done this, he was certain.

"I think I'll take on the wound cleaning potion next," Robert told Edgecombe. "Pick whatever you like. Or if you see something missing from the list that you think should be there." Robert flicked his fingers at the ingredient bottles on the work tables to put them back on the shelves and then selected the necessary ingredients for the wound cleaning potion. He set another cauldron to start heating and then settled in to chop and crush ingredients.

If there was one thing Robert actually enjoyed was a good mystery.  He likened it to a good game of chess. He generally believed that if one were strategic enough, one might actually be able to follow a single thread to a satisfactory end. In another day and time, he himself might have chosen to be an auror. Now that was a thought that would have made his brother laugh. Robert had been the bookworm back in the day, and Remus the adventurer. Now, Robert had a love of both. This indeed might have some promise to satisfy that need for a bit of spice in his life for a change, while making some new friends, and letting him use some intellectual pursuits at the same time. And, he believed Edgecombe showed some traits of liking some of those same things himself, although Robert wasn't certain just how much. He faulted no one if they were simply more conservative than he was. Where Edgecombe's beliefs were? Who knew? That remained to be seen. So far, though, he liked the man.

"I am not so certain our thief is very knowledgeable about potions, Edgecombe. I think, had you or I done the deed, the missing potions would have been far different. The missing ones seems to be skewed towards those that are going to be the most marketable.  Or at least that's my guess. You realize since I didn't have an inventory of what was supposed to be in the cabinet, I can only work on an assumption of what I would have kept there if I had been the healer up there. I don't know if there is an inventory list, but perhaps I can ask that in the morning." He stopped chopping for a moment. "I wonder..." he said absently and then looked up at Edgecombe.

"I wonder if you and I might be able to come up with a bit of a tracing potion that we could put on the bottles in the hospital cabinets that would react upon a simple charm to show the hands of anyone who had touched those bottles. Perhaps discoloring their hands so that we might see who has had some sort of access. I would think it might be worth exploring. It won't help us with the missing bottles, but it might help us in the future. What do you think?"