Valentine had some time back returned from his year away, scouring the world for new and interesting substances and experiences. And oh, what a year it had been. But he was here now, back to the large, odd castle and the house elves who cowered justifiably every time he walked by, and life had regained a pace of a sort.
Valentine hated monotony
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She took the open door as an invitation, sauntering right in without fanfare. "Hi."
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She draped herself over a spare chair, legs over the side. "Wellll, you're the potions master, and I want a potion, a specific kind of potion I can't find anywhere."
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Whether it's one of the special ones or not remains to be seen. Not that George would notice.
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"A fellow teacher, and even better, a fellow noble!" Valentine shook the hand briefly and then stood, sweeping his lanky frame into a courtly bow just a few degrees short of being insulting; while Valentine had a certain image to protect, there was no sense in making enemies. Yet. A lifetime in the Iron Bitch's court had made him a consummate courtier, and that included playing coy long enough to determine who your allies were this hour. "Lord Valentine Wolfe, Potions Master and Slytherin at your service, my dear Baron."
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"Dood are you like...a gath or somethin?" he asked, staring at Valentine. His eyes were noticeably bloodshot and he was clutching a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his right hand. But, yeah, whatever. He was still okay to drive the Murdercycle.
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"I've been called such, but no, I'm not. I'm merely... minimalist in my outward appearance, to counterbalance the chaos of my internal existence. Would you like a muffin?"
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Anyway, most of what Valentine said went over his head. "Oo, sweet, muffins!" Except that part. As par his unnatural ability to seek out and consume drugs, Pickles chose one of the fun muffins. He shoved the entire thing in his mouth and chewed it up in record time (he was hungry). His pupils started dilating as he picked up a second muffin, but Pickles didn't seem to notice that he'd been drugged.
"Yeah, so do you like, write dark...poerty or somethin? 'Cause, no, dood, that's fine, long as its not like, y'know...that whiney...emo kid crap about cuttin' yer arm off or whatever. That shit sucks." He started munching on the second muffin as he finished speaking. That one may be drugged too.
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"No, I don't," he said lazily, watching with delight as the man set to work devouring the muffins. "I find poetry dull, and whining to be even more so. My art is of the pharmaceutical sort, and I enjoy every millisecond of it."
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It couldn't be- but it was, right down to the lipstick. "Dr. Schadenfreude? You're here too? How?"
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Now that he had a clear view, they did look different. This man was wearing the wrong shade of lipstick for one.
"Oh. You look like someone I know. My apologies, Lord Potions Master Wolfe. I noticed the sign-" Igor pointed to the door "said you had open hours."
He glanced over at the desk were those muffins? I should have eaten lunch.
"I'm interested in learning potions, because I have a project of my own." The flask of solution was produced.
(opefully Wolfe wouldn't think he was being presumptious. Though almost nobody seemed to have that reaction to him at Hogwarts.)
"Where I come from there isn't magic, only chemistry so I don't know how to recreate this."
Muffins.
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"Lord Wolfe is fine, thank you," he told the... student. "I am indeed holding office hours. You see, it's been so long since I've been here and I fear that some students may have forgotten about me. And I can't have that."
His smile, which had flickered dangerous and predatory for a moment, returned to something more benign. Sort of. "Besides, I'm planning a class soon! One of the advantages of wandering this world--" Limited and isolated as it is-- "is that I encounter all sorts of other concoctions that one would never find in an ordinary, Ministry of Magic-approved textbook. I feel that it is my responsibility to pass some of that knowledge onto eager young minds such as yours. May I see your sample? And," he said, holding out one long white hand, "would you care for a muffin
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