Harry clinked a small shot glass down on my desk, right in the middle of yet another letter from my lawyers. I finished the sentence I was reading, made a note and set my pen down before I looked up at him. It wouldn't do to let him think he could have my attention at the drop of a hat.
He was standing beside my desk, hair sticking nearly straight up - he'd been running his hands through it again while working on potions. Circles under his eyes, making his face look pale and ghostly, all of his angles sharper than usual. I coughed into my handkerchief quietly and folded it back down. My next breath was thick, heavy, my lungs and throat prickling as the congestion resettled itself. This cold was increasingly inconvenient.
"What is it?"
"A home remedy for your fucking flu." He picked the glass up and held it out to me. "You're driving me up a goddamn wall. I can't sleep for all the coughing and getting up in the middle of the night to take more drugs. This'll take care of it."
"It's only a cold." But I took the glass. Harry didn't typically volunteer magic for my use.
I raised the glass to my nose out of habit, but of course I couldn't smell anything. It was thick, black-red and it coated my tongue, my throat as I swallowed it down, drinking it in one go. Warmth, tiny electric jolts followed it down, spread out into my chest, my stomach until I could feel it in all my limbs. My spine tingled, a bit. The thrill of feeling Harry's magic. It never went away.
Harry took the glass from me as I licked my lips. His fingers shook a little as they brushed against mine.
~
"You start dying your hair, Boss?" I straightened my tie and raised my eyes to meet James' in the rear view mirror.
"Of course not." My eyes went to my hair. I'm not a vain man, but I know that I'm good looking, even now as the faint wrinkles around my eyes and mouth have deepened, my hair more salt than pepper. I take care of myself, but I've never seen any need for cosmetic enhancement. I turned my head to the side. My hair might have looked a little bit darker. I filed the thought away for later.
~
"Here you go." Harry held out his little glass of 'home remedy' toward me. I looked at him over the top of my reading glasses.
"It's been a month, Harry. The cold is gone." He pushed it closer.
"Preventative measure. You're no spring chicken, you know." I sighed and drank it down. It was the same as always, thick, warm and electric, tasting faintly of copper and wood smoke, power tingling through my limbs. Energy trickled through my body and I felt looser, relaxed in some way I hadn't realized was tense.
~
"You forgot these." Gard ducked into my office, my reading glasses dangling from one finger.
"Ah." I looked at her, then back down at the file I'd been reading. "Thank you." She handed them to me with a smile.
"You're not even going to ask him, are you?"
"Ask who, what?" Gard sighed and shook her head at me.
"Did you take candy from strangers as a child?" She pulled out a small compact and opened it, aiming the mirror at my face. My hair was nearly black, with only a faint smattering of grey hairs at the temples. The lines I had grown accustomed to were still there, but far fainter, my skin seeming tighter, softer. Though the last was subjective, of course. We grow so used to seeing ourselves that the smallest changes often go unnoticed. "Ask your wizard what's in his little home brew."
~
I didn't ask.
I waited until after dinner, when Harry went out to his lab and then I followed him. The small building I'd had built for him was utilitarian, at best. But it was far enough from the main house that any 'accidents' wouldn't set them both ablaze and it had small windows set high in the walls.
I gave Harry enough time to get into whatever he was doing and then I climbed up on the low cement planter beneath one of the windows. Conveniently, it was just high enough that a man of my height could see down into the lab when standing on it.
Harry was bent over one of his burners, something bubbling in a beaker. He dumped in a small pinch of something green and then he waited as it bubbled over. The liquid fizzed, cooled, and Harry took it off of the frame.
He poured a little bit of it into a shot glass and set the rest of it aside. Long, quick fingers rolled up his sleeve, pushed it back to his elbow. Familiar, faded scars came into view. Harry picked up a slender knife, tapping it against the jar full of clear liquid it had been sitting in.
The blade was bright, fire and candle light warm against the metal as he pressed the tip into his skin. The blood welled up, deep red and gleaming against the silver of the blade. Harry drew it down, flesh parting beneath it like silk. I imagined I could hear the sharp gasp, the intake of breath as the fine pain of the cut hit him.
Harry let the knife clatter to the table as he held the cut over the shot glass and bled into it, squeezing the wound when the flow started to slow down.
I stepped down from my perch and moved quickly through the dark back to the main house. My movements were smooth, strong. I ran more easily than I had in years, a familiar, welcome burn of light exertion curling through my muscles.
~
"You have to drink it all, Marcone." I sipped at Harry's blood, rolling the taste of it around in my mouth. It was hotter than usual, more full. I could feel it sliding through me, seeping through my cell walls, touching every part of me and changing me. Joining with me.
"I assure you, Harry, I will." I ran my tongue across my teeth. "Every last drop."
Fill: Home Remedy 1/1
Harry clinked a small shot glass down on my desk, right in the middle of yet another letter from my lawyers. I finished the sentence I was reading, made a note and set my pen down before I looked up at him. It wouldn't do to let him think he could have my attention at the drop of a hat.
He was standing beside my desk, hair sticking nearly straight up - he'd been running his hands through it again while working on potions. Circles under his eyes, making his face look pale and ghostly, all of his angles sharper than usual. I coughed into my handkerchief quietly and folded it back down. My next breath was thick, heavy, my lungs and throat prickling as the congestion resettled itself. This cold was increasingly inconvenient.
"What is it?"
"A home remedy for your fucking flu." He picked the glass up and held it out to me. "You're driving me up a goddamn wall. I can't sleep for all the coughing and getting up in the middle of the night to take more drugs. This'll take care of it."
"It's only a cold." But I took the glass. Harry didn't typically volunteer magic for my use.
I raised the glass to my nose out of habit, but of course I couldn't smell anything. It was thick, black-red and it coated my tongue, my throat as I swallowed it down, drinking it in one go. Warmth, tiny electric jolts followed it down, spread out into my chest, my stomach until I could feel it in all my limbs. My spine tingled, a bit. The thrill of feeling Harry's magic. It never went away.
Harry took the glass from me as I licked my lips. His fingers shook a little as they brushed against mine.
~
"You start dying your hair, Boss?" I straightened my tie and raised my eyes to meet James' in the rear view mirror.
"Of course not." My eyes went to my hair. I'm not a vain man, but I know that I'm good looking, even now as the faint wrinkles around my eyes and mouth have deepened, my hair more salt than pepper. I take care of myself, but I've never seen any need for cosmetic enhancement. I turned my head to the side. My hair might have looked a little bit darker. I filed the thought away for later.
~
"Here you go." Harry held out his little glass of 'home remedy' toward me. I looked at him over the top of my reading glasses.
"It's been a month, Harry. The cold is gone." He pushed it closer.
"Preventative measure. You're no spring chicken, you know." I sighed and drank it down. It was the same as always, thick, warm and electric, tasting faintly of copper and wood smoke, power tingling through my limbs. Energy trickled through my body and I felt looser, relaxed in some way I hadn't realized was tense.
~
"You forgot these." Gard ducked into my office, my reading glasses dangling from one finger.
"Ah." I looked at her, then back down at the file I'd been reading. "Thank you." She handed them to me with a smile.
"You're not even going to ask him, are you?"
"Ask who, what?" Gard sighed and shook her head at me.
"Did you take candy from strangers as a child?" She pulled out a small compact and opened it, aiming the mirror at my face. My hair was nearly black, with only a faint smattering of grey hairs at the temples. The lines I had grown accustomed to were still there, but far fainter, my skin seeming tighter, softer. Though the last was subjective, of course. We grow so used to seeing ourselves that the smallest changes often go unnoticed. "Ask your wizard what's in his little home brew."
~
I didn't ask.
I waited until after dinner, when Harry went out to his lab and then I followed him. The small building I'd had built for him was utilitarian, at best. But it was far enough from the main house that any 'accidents' wouldn't set them both ablaze and it had small windows set high in the walls.
I gave Harry enough time to get into whatever he was doing and then I climbed up on the low cement planter beneath one of the windows. Conveniently, it was just high enough that a man of my height could see down into the lab when standing on it.
Harry was bent over one of his burners, something bubbling in a beaker. He dumped in a small pinch of something green and then he waited as it bubbled over. The liquid fizzed, cooled, and Harry took it off of the frame.
He poured a little bit of it into a shot glass and set the rest of it aside. Long, quick fingers rolled up his sleeve, pushed it back to his elbow. Familiar, faded scars came into view. Harry picked up a slender knife, tapping it against the jar full of clear liquid it had been sitting in.
The blade was bright, fire and candle light warm against the metal as he pressed the tip into his skin. The blood welled up, deep red and gleaming against the silver of the blade. Harry drew it down, flesh parting beneath it like silk. I imagined I could hear the sharp gasp, the intake of breath as the fine pain of the cut hit him.
Harry let the knife clatter to the table as he held the cut over the shot glass and bled into it, squeezing the wound when the flow started to slow down.
I stepped down from my perch and moved quickly through the dark back to the main house. My movements were smooth, strong. I ran more easily than I had in years, a familiar, welcome burn of light exertion curling through my muscles.
~
"You have to drink it all, Marcone." I sipped at Harry's blood, rolling the taste of it around in my mouth. It was hotter than usual, more full. I could feel it sliding through me, seeping through my cell walls, touching every part of me and changing me. Joining with me.
"I assure you, Harry, I will." I ran my tongue across my teeth. "Every last drop."