Cameron shrugged. His mother had given him the cloves, but they'd looked almost... grey. Dark white. Were they supposed to be that color? He supposed it didn't matter much anymore; he doubted Alice would try to shove garlic cloves down his throat now that he'd dragged her all the way to London. As they rounded the busy corner to the apothecary, Cameron's hand instinctively went to the spot between her shoulders as he guided her closer to the storefronts. Merlin, he hated London. Much busier than Godric's Hollow or even Hogsmeade.
"Well they're rotting in the yard back at home now," he admitted with a smile—and then a cough. "I got frustrated and threw them out. I think a potion would be more effective than garlic, don't you think? You're smart; I bet you know how to make the best coughing draught."
"Well they're rotting in the yard back at home now," he admitted with a smile—and then a cough. "I got frustrated and threw them out. I think a potion would be more effective than garlic, don't you think? You're smart; I bet you know how to make the best coughing draught."
