She’d expected Basil to be at the door of the strange apothecary. What she hadn’t anticipated was how harassed and panicked he looked. His hair looked like he’d run a hand through it more than once in the past few minutes, and there was a wide-eyed panic in his pale blue eyes that Sybella recognized only because she’d seen the exact same look on many of her patient’s loved ones who were concerned.

Before she knew it, Sybella was seized from behind the threshold and pulled into the apothecary. She barely had time to look around and tripped over the doorway as Basil explained the situation. From what she gleaned, he’d arrived at the apothecary to find his friend cranky and…coughing up blood. There was little mention of a trigger or what could have happened to cause his friend to cough up so much blood.

Sybella took in Macnair’s appearance, pale, nearly gaunt looking with his mouth stained a rusty red.

And Basil had mentioned experiments which caused her interest to pique. “What experiments?” She asked, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. “Show me.” She didn’t want to administer anything yet until she knew what she was dealing with.

  

---

Sybella speaks with a slight Italian accent.
Her family is well known throughout the Sicilian Mafia; if your character is attuned within those circles, they might know who she is.

The urgency with which Sybella examined Macnair made some of the bluster pass as Basil stood beside her prattling like an idiot. He didn’t know what Agrimony had been getting into before he arrived but he did his best to glance around now and search for anything that looked recently moved. There was a letter sitting on a small side table just near and the cursive writing caught Basil’s attention, though he couldn’t say he recognized it. Beside the thing there was a pile of what looked like dust recently smeared and a trinket he couldn’t identify. Not stupid enough to touch it knowing only the foggiest about the kinds of things Macnair sometimes traded in, Basil nudged Sybella in its direction.

“That looks rather suspect,” he muttered, not that many a thing in this curious place was much better. “I haven’t the foggiest clue what he was getting into when I arrived, but it does look recently smudged.” Basil took out his wand and poked the small pile of whatever it was with the tip and then gave it a vague sniff. His nose wrinkled immediately upon inspection. “Rancid stuff,” he coughed. “Whatever that is.”

---

Agrimony Macnair & muse song >w> <3

---

  

---

Either he faded out of consciousness enough to miss Foxwood’s response, or Foxwood didn’t respond at all, because before Agrimony knew it, he was alone again. There was a dull hollowness that struck him when he realized Foxwood had left his side; something he would of course attribute to having been extremely ill. That’s the only thing it could be, of course.

He was content to roll over again, perhaps drift off and finally get some rest if it weren’t for the fact that the world was spinning on its axis. Through the thick cloud of nausea, he heard Foxwood’s voice again, panicked, and almost bade him to talk louder seeing as he was obviously in a different room. Because who else could he have possibly been talking to?But then, a woman’s voice cut through, and Agrimony stiffened, listening closely.

What experiments? The female voice demanded. Show me.

No, no Basil would most certainly not show this woman his experiments. What right did he have to go digging through his assets like that? Agrimony would have surged off the chair had he not felt he’d keel over the second he straightened up. The wizard wanted to growl in frustration. “Foxwood, you stay away from my workbench,” He snapped again. “And that rancid stuff you happen to be riffling through is from Norway, and very expensive so put it down.”

---

The following 1 user Likes Agrimony Macnair's post:1 user Likes Agrimony Macnair's post
   Basil Foxwood

---

Basil felt more than heard rustling movements from Macnair’s general orientation. The hair on the back of his neck pricked to attention and he cast a worried gaze at the ill Slytherin, fully expecting him to try and lurch upright with the way he cried out.

Abandoning the investigation, Basil made to tuck his wand into his trouser pockets as he crossed the room in three long sides and reached to press the other back. “Don’t you dare,” he muttered, under his breath. (He didn’t hold it long; he knew Macnair would dare, and soon.)

“What were you doing when I arrived?” he demanded less patiently. “What do you think could have caused this sudden bout?!” Basil pressed his palm against Agrimony’s sweaty brow again. He was ever warmer than before and looked about to puke. Basil cast a desperate look at Sybella. Instead of attending to the patient however, his friend seemed to have her attention caught on something.

Basil was torn between aiding her in the discovery of a cause and refusing to peel himself away from Macnair’s side again in case the stubborn blonde decided to run off. In the end he huffed and summoned a damp rag into existence then pressed it to the other’s face. He’d play nurse as long as needed to keep this from escalating, but damn if he wasn’t increasingly worried.

“Sybella, please,” Basil prodded urgently.

---

Agrimony Macnair & muse song >w> <3

---

  

---

The man could snap and bark all he wanted but from the brief look that Sybella got of him, he certainly wasn’t going more than a half a step from the place that Basil had forced him down onto. He sounded rather determined though, so she threw a “Basil don’t let him get up.” over her shoulder as she waved her wand and went carelessly riffling through the correspondence on the table. Each roll of parchment unfurled in front of her enough for her to scan and discard; che cazzo this friend of Basil’s seemed to be into some highly unsavory things.

Basil’s plea reached her not soon after she’d gotten through half of what was on the desk. Muttering in Italian, the witch picked up the pace, her wand twirling through the air as she went through the correspondences and whatever artifacts had accompanied them. Thankfully the man seemed to keep rather detailed ledgers, but unfortunately it seemed that he hadn’t gotten to the marjority of the stuff on the desk…which meant the stuff she was riffling through was extremely not up to date.

“I’m hurrying, I promise,” She called, forcing herself to keep calm despite the extremely worrying sound of coughing coming from the room. But out of the corner of her eye, something made her stop dead, so suddenly that the parchment in front of her dropped to the ground.

It was a black card with velvet lining that she would recognize anywhere. “Cazzo, Luca,” she hissed, immediately summoning the card in front of her. She didn’t need to squint as it zoomed towards her to know what was on the front: A beggar, holding out a bowl with one hand - chained to a cinder block by the other.

Miseria.

Panic burst through her chest. A curse-breaking diagnostic spell revealed a pattern of curses and hexes she was far too familiar with. In a few quick seconds, the witch rendered the card inert and snatched it out of the air before hurrying to Basil. “Basil!” She tried to keep the urgency out of her voice as she searched his person for any sign of distress. “You didn’t touch this, did you? Tell me you didn’t touch this.”

The following 1 user Likes Sybella Capobianco's post:1 user Likes Sybella Capobianco's post
   Basil Foxwood

---

Sybella speaks with a slight Italian accent.
Her family is well known throughout the Sicilian Mafia; if your character is attuned within those circles, they might know who she is.

At Sybella’s obvious comment, Basil felt his nerves fray. He knew it was a bad idea for Macnair to go anywhere in this condition but to have the healer confirm as much only made him even more anxious. One hand settled on the Slytherin’s arm, pinning him in place, while the other continued to nurse his forehead with a cool towel.

Seconds bled to minutes in this way until Sybella’s soft curse raised the hair on the back of Basil’s neck. He quickly glanced over his shoulder in time to see her snatch something out of the air and come rushing over looking panicked. His heart skipped a tremendous beat as he tried to see whatever it was. “No,” he responded quickly. “No I haven’t touched anything,” he turned back to the patient. “But Macnair certainly must have! Why, what is it?” he demanded to know.

As Macnair coughed again, blood dribbled out the corner of his mouth and Basil’s face twisted into a lovesick agony. He reached to dab gently at the blood, wiping it away, before rounding on Sybella with more ferocity than before. “Can you heal him?!”

---

Agrimony Macnair & muse song >w> <3

---

  

---

He’d settled upon the fact that there was no getting away from this - from Foxwood. It was absolutely ridiculous, and he was fairly certain that healer woman would mess up his entire process with the way it sounded like she was fishing through his personal effects. Since when did Foxwood have the right to give anyone permission to go through his things?

“I was opening mail.” Agrimony grunted defensively, shaking his head to relieve himself of Foxwood’s hand. There was no time to elaborate that some of the mail was most certainly not from legitimate businesses — he’d started to cough, his whole body shaking as he did so. Stars danced in his vision which almost tripled as he tried to steady himself.

---

The following 1 user Likes Agrimony Macnair's post:1 user Likes Agrimony Macnair's post
   Basil Foxwood

---

Basil was beginning to lose patience with both of them. If Sybella knew what the hell was happening, why wasn’t she fixing it already? And Agrimony? Basil could have knocked the little Slytherin’s lights out for all the help he was being conscious. It was a fraying, uncomfortable feeling to be so helpless and Basil Foxwood was frankly not used to it.

Pushing Macnair back down from the half-rise he’d tried in his weak defense, Basil pressed the swatted hand back against the other’s forehead. He kept his mouth shut hoping it would encourage further action. Macnair looked positively pale and it was making him uneasy.

---

Agrimony Macnair & muse song >w> <3

---

  

---

The fact that one of her dearest friends hadn’t touched the card was a great relief to Sybella, but it hardly spelled the end of her problems. In fact, judging by the way Basil was hovering over this man, Sybella knew it might mean even more trouble to untangle for the sake of everyone involved: her family, her friend and her friend’s…friend. Basil was practically vibrating with panic over how sick this man - Macnair - had gotten. He’d briefly rounded on her to demand answers before flitting back to the other man when he started to cough up more blood.

This sight threw Sybella into action.

“Hold this,” She shoved the card at Basil’s chest while pushing him back so she could work. She slashed her wand through the air to summon her kit and immediately cast a complicated diagnostic over the sick patient. “Do not lose that, Basil.” The diagnostic whirred in front of her, flaring colors of orange and red; not a good sign at all. “What does your friend do for a living?” She asked, thinking it best to keep Basil talking - doing something to prevent him from panicking.

The following 1 user Likes Sybella Capobianco's post:1 user Likes Sybella Capobianco's post
   Basil Foxwood

---

Sybella speaks with a slight Italian accent.
Her family is well known throughout the Sicilian Mafia; if your character is attuned within those circles, they might know who she is.

Basil accepted the card with a weary fingertip unsure if whatever had made Agrimony sick was still a contaminant. But no, that would be silly if Sybella handed it to him. He trusted her competence enough to dismiss the thought and step back as she began to… check? On Macnair.

“Oh, erm—” Basil puzzled over the question, wondering as to its relevance. He didn’t really know what Macnair spent the majority of his time doing other than running this shop and he said as much. “He runs this shop primarily, I think.” Basil scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Did it say something strange about their relationship that he didn’t know or was it weirder to know more? Basil let out a frustrated little sigh.

“How is he doing?” He asked, derailed. “Is he going to be alright?”

---

Agrimony Macnair & muse song >w> <3

---

  

---

Were it any other time, she would have cased a withering glare at her friend; of course he ran the shop, that much was obvious, but - and this was where she had to tread lightly so as to not…reveal too much - she knew that he must do more if he had been able to become the subject of that card in Basil’s hands. There was something else he dealt in, and it seemed that Foxwood wasn’t privy to those kinds of dealings.

A good thing and a bad thing, which seemed pretty much par for the course today.

“He will be,” Sybella said, looking at the three different charts in front of her before she started to trace through a complicated series of spells. “But only by a stroke of extreme luck.”

  

---

Sybella speaks with a slight Italian accent.
Her family is well known throughout the Sicilian Mafia; if your character is attuned within those circles, they might know who she is.

The whirring. The colors. Everything hovering over his head was causing the room to spin even more than it did. There was a terrible pain in his chest, one that felt as if it were fit to burst open at the slightest touch. The room had gone cold, and Agrimony shivered as he tried to curl in on himself. Even as a thick blanket settled atop his figure, he still felt as if there was a chill that went right through him. He could only hear what was going on around him. Shutting his eyes helped but only marginally so.

“I never seem to have any luck, and yet you’re saying I seem to have it in abundance.” He muttered acidly as he peeped open an eye.

He’d never seen this woman before in his life — who was she and why was she his sudden saving grace? He wanted to swat her away as she worked but she merely pushed back against him if he tried to do anything except lay there. “Foxwood, the hell is this shrew you’ve brought to my establishment?” He coughed, the taste of copper bright on his tongue.

---

  

---