This too will fall down like everything else.

[pureandstrange]

Transferring the thick liquid from cauldron to flask, his breath harsh and rasping when he hums, Rodolphus is oblivious to the room's darkness. The smell, if he were paying attention, is overpoweringly acrid, as if the fumes of this malevolent philter has penetrated the walls. And he hums from time to time, hearing the melody perfectly in his

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[the_babycat]

It merely appeared one day. Each drawer full of tidbits of this and that. Unicorn horn. Phoenix tail feathers. Ground centaur hoof. Exotic ingrediants and not so exotic variations.

And laying atop it a small, engraved card.

For all you taught me. For all you gave me. For all I've lost to you.

-Tamarantha

[the_babycat]

It was the most insane thing she'd ever done. Standing there before the mirror one moment, a single word and then she was standing in the middle of the foyer. In her Uncle's villa.

Fidgeting, wondering why she was there. Why she'd dressed as the child he'd first met. Why she...

"Uncle Rodolphus?" Called out softly even as her steps carried her to the one place he would be.

His lab.

[pureandstrange]

The lab probably looks different than she remembers. Besides that all the paintings in the house have been turned to face the wall, everything is dark, dustless, scrupulously in order.

Most of his projects have been relegated to a side counter. The chest of ingredients she sent him is sitting by itself on the main counter with a ball of light hovering over it, a large text open beside it. He's been testing it for hexes, looking for traps.

There's a slight, evasive warmth to the room, as if Rodolphus had only just stepped out moments before. But the door closing quietly behind her and locking would be a good indication he, in fact, has not.

[the_babycat]

Hand moving to the small of her back as she hears the snickt of metal on metal, of the door locking. Knowing there would be more than physical locks keeping her within. Yet she doesn't draw her wand, merely wrapping her fingers around the smooth wood. Waiting.

"I would have expected a more intense welcome, Uncle. Perhaps another curse? A large spike through the eye?' Speaking low, softly, turning in a circle, seeking him out. 'The chest is clean. I meerely....' What? She wasn't even sure she knew.

[pureandstrange]

"Merely what?" His voice at her shoulder is cold, if somewhat brittle, not as strong as it once had been. It is, however, accompanied by a painful, unrelenting as iron grip on the wrist of the hand holding her wand.

The Disillusionment charm melts from his form with distorted ripples, but there is hardly anything to reveal. Ubiquitous black covers a tall, attenuated figure, and his expression is the same as it always has been: blank, gaunt, slightly displeased. It might as well be a scene from earlier days, as if he'd caught her snooping, except that back then, he never used to touch her at all.