July 18th, 1893 — Diagon Alley Herbalist's Shop

The woman ahead of him was taking an inordinately long time looking at these plants. At least, Ozymandias thought she was taking an excessive time — the truth was that he was just particularly impatient today. He didn't have a wealth of patience at the best of times, and even less when he was chasing the fickle inspiration that preceded a successful invention. He wouldn't have minded how long anyone was taking at their shopping, of course, if she hadn't been stood right in his way while she contemplated. Was this going to take much longer? He was almost contemplating leaving the shop and going somewhere else entirely in pursuit of the ingredient he needed. It would have taken longer, probably, but at least he'd be in motion. That, and the shop would lose his business. A small and entirely irrational part of him thought they deserved that, for letting such languid customers loiter in their aisles.

He didn't know if there was another shop in Diagon that would sell what he needed, though, and he hated going to Hogsmeade when he could possibly avoid it. He shifted his weight to the other foot, visibly annoyed that she kept looking for whatever she was looking for. She could at least have moved aside and let him go ahead, he thought — he already knew precisely what he needed, so it would only have taken a moment. But she wasn't moving — irritatingly, she did not even appear to have noticed him. Ozymandias cleared his throat. She still did not look in his direction. He cleared his throat again, more loudly. "Excuse me, do you work here?" he asked. He was almost positive she didn't, but he had exhausted his polite intervention methods, so had reached the point of subtly insulting inquiry.

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Philomena Sprout / Faustus Prewett

  

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MJ is the light of my life <3

It was supposed to have been a simple trip to the herbalist’s shop — in and out, just as she’d planned. Of course, the day had different ideas for what she could do with that time, and Philomena had ended up attempting to sift through the pile of herbs in front of her.

The most maddening part was that these herbs were quite alike in every way — appearance, smell and texture — except for the most important factor: one was deadly, and the other could be brewed in a simple remedial tisane. She could, of course purchase both, but Phie was feeling particularly critical of herself today, and she was determined to leave with the correct one. The poor shop boy had already exercised his usefulness in producing the two herbs and promptly spilling them right next to each other and effectively mixing the two jars together.

So it was how Philomena had ended up with her nose almost glued to the counter, her gloved fingers plucking at the herbs one by one to try and discern which one was poison, and which was not. Her focus was so great that she’d neglected to realize there was an impatient gentleman behind her, and that he’d been attempting to get her attention. When his voice finally broke through her focus, she gave out a huff of frustration, which only proceeded to irritate her even more. She’d not only lost count of where the divide had been, but her exhale had caused the herbs to flutter amongst each other again. “No, I do not,” She replied with barely a glance over her shoulder. “I’m merely attempting to make sure my mother gets the right ingredient for her antidote to poison.” Her voice was unnaturally clipped as she attempted to remember if the small leaf she’d been focusing on had three points or two.

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❧ Welcome to Evergardens ❧

Some might have been cowed by the mention of poisons, which were potentially lethal and therefore probably important, but Oz was nothing if not self-assured of his own importance compared to everything and everyone around him. Probably half the people who visited this shop were either brewing poisons or brewing antidotes to them, realistically... and it could hardly be an urgent matter of life and death if she was taking the time to sift through the potential stock leaf by bloody leaf. (He had missed the ordeal with the shopkeeper and the mixing of the herbs; from his vantage point they appeared to be one pile of indistinguishable vegetation and she appeared to be unreasonably picky about them).

"If the recipe requirements were that exacting, surely she would have come herself," Oz said, fully patronizing. "Or sent someone with a little more expertise in the matter." Not that he knew anything at all about this woman or her degree of expertise, but given how closely she'd been examining the leaves he didn't imagine she was that well-versed in herbs and their uses.

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MJ is the light of my life <3

A scowl sent over her shoulder wouldn’t be enough to put this man in his place, but as it stood, the plant in front of her was far more important than an impatient - Great Merlin’s Ghost how tall was this man? She’d turned to face him, prepared to snort a response but the fact that he towered over her gave her pause. “She’s busy attending to someone with a mortal condition, so if you’d like to go tell her to abandon her post and come to the apothecary be my guest,” Phie collected herself only briefly. “She wanted to send me seeing as I’m learning from her, but I don’t think she forsaw the fact that I’d be meeting a rather impatient man.” Otherwise Renata Sprout would certainly have wanted to confront the man herself.

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❧ Welcome to Evergardens ❧

"Is the person she's attending to the one waiting on the antidote?" Oz shot back, with an eyebrow raised. He heard enough about people on their deathbeds or in various states of mortal distress from Thomasina, so he wasn't much put off by the idea that her mother was a healer. He certainly wasn't fazed by her characterization of him as an impatient man; he was impatient, and in terms of insults that had been leveled in his direction it didn't even rank in the top five of the week. "Because at the rate you're going, I might have some bad news for them."

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MJ is the light of my life <3

His immediate response saw her take a step back - except there was nowhere to step back so her heel hit the bottom of the counter. Normally a gentleman might have immediately apologized for his outburst, would he not have? With her prior irritation completely gone, she reached a hand back to steady herself and tried to calm the sudden panic that had risen in her chest. She had already started to stress out that she might give her mother the wrong herb. He certainly seemed quite annoyed, but it was hardly her fault that the man behind the counter was fumbling, was it? Philomena blinked rapidly up at him; her eyes had started to grow hot and it seemed as if the air had suddenly grown thin. “N-no,” She stammered, taken aback by his forwardness. Never mind that if her mother’s patient had been relying on the medicine, she certainly wouldn’t have sent her step-daughter the day of the treatment. “That would be horrible…”

She didn’t wait to watch his response. She spun back around, muttering to the shop boy that she’d just take the lot. Heat flared in her cheeks and she quickly rummaged through her purse for the proper amount. “Keep the change,” She said, patting the coins on the counter before seizing her purchases and heading for the door.

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❧ Welcome to Evergardens ❧

Oh, that had shocked her into moving out of the way. Oz might have felt a little bad about the look on her face as she cleared the counter, except that she was the one who had started it. She'd brought up dying patients and poison antidotes and everything else as though it made her business supremely important and his entirely unimportant, so really she shouldn't have been surprised when he made her implied connection more explicit. She'd done this to herself, really.

"Well, you're welcome," Oz said to the boy behind the counter. When he looked a touch confused, Oz nodded towards the money that the customer had left on the counter in such a hurry. "For the tip," he explained. He didn't know how much extra change she'd left behind, but her loss was the shop's gain — or the shop boy's gain, either way. It mattered to Oz not a whit if the boy pocketed the extra (and frankly, he expected as much from someone with such dirty hands — did the apothecary not have a sink on its premise?) The assistant hurriedly cleared off the coins on the counter as Oz leaned heavily on the edge. He didn't wait for him to finish before he launched in to his order; from his perspective he'd been waiting long enough already. "Now, three-quarters of a litre of chameleon blood, if you please, and two pounds of powdered wormwood root. Charged to the account."

(The fact that she had used coin at all had solidified Oz's initial opinion that this woman was no one he ought to be particularly concerned about having a high opinion of him. She might as well have worked in the shop, if she went around paying for things with her own money).

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MJ is the light of my life <3