What You Get ~ Apothecary, ~Open~

[Alexa O'Burke]

The world was having a field day with mocking Alexa. The sun was ungodly bright, the smells from the Leaky Caldron’s supposedly eatable food following her where ever she went, and the heavy traffic of people pressing through the narrow street of Diagon Alley made up the world’s mockery. Alexa felt sick, thoroughly, mind numbingly sick. She hated it when she ran out of supplies for her Hangover Elixir. It was like a morning ritual. Coldron brewing next to a muggle blinder that chopped and blended fruit for her smoothie; she couldn't drink the potion any other way and the fruit didn't mess with the components in the elixir.

Alexa had almost cried this morning after discovering that she was out of two of the five major components that made up the brew. Why she had let her stores dwindled down to nothing was beyond the woman; but now here she was, completely hung-over and trying to buy her supplies while the man that ran the Apothecary smirked at her knowingly. Out of all the people in the world, Alexa knew for a fact that the man running the store could tell she was more then just a casual drinker from her monthly supplies.

With headache, stoned liver, and flip-flopping stomach, Alexa had the urge to sick her tongue out at the older man and to tell him to shove it. Stupid, smug bastard. Though she needed her supplies; and so, Alexa waited patently for the man to come back from retriving one of her items from his backroom without turning into a five year old with a cold. Dropping her curly head, Alexa rubbed at her temples while wishing she had brought sunglasses to fight of the early morning sun. Well, this is what she got for being irresponsible.

[Malcolm Proudfoot]

<sub>It was actually a brilliant morning when one only took into account the weather, other than that there was nothing too special about the day. In such dark times it was unusual to see the sun peeking out from behind even the palest of clouds, however today it seemed that the clear sky was a small gift to the people of London. After all, it was easy to get used to the rain or the harsh winds that kicked up nearly every day, especially when it was one had come to expect upon stepping out the front door. The area was renown for its abysmal climate; therefore one sunny day could make all the difference in both spirit and manner.

This was why Malcolm wasn't in his most sour of moods, though of course he wasn't about to sing from the rooftops either. His grim features were a little less brooding and it seemed that there was a sparkle in his eye that made up for the lack of smile. Of course, the man constantly had wartime issues on his mind as well as commands from McGonagall and Moody, so he didn't have time to sit about and enjoy the sunshine like many of the people were currently doing in Diagon. He hadn't seen the place so lively in ages as very few people trusted the streets after all the incidents that had occurred there - many people going missing, areas that were too close to the infamous Knockturn Alley for comfort and so many strangers walking about in one place.

All in all, it made for a rather uncomfortable visit to the streets; one was never sure who they were going to bump shoulders with while walking carefully along. Malcolm managed to make himself smaller as he wound his way through the throng of people, keeping his hand in feeling distance and his wizard gold even closer. He had a destination in mind, a direct path to a particular location, and very little was about to stop him mid-step. Hearing the bell of the Apothecary, the worst of the tension left his body as he walked through the door to find that the place was quite empty, except for the store owner and a young woman at the counter.

Having worked four years at the place, he still knew his way around rather well. Nodding to his old boss in a polite manner (well, as polite as possible for the cold Proudfoot), while receiving a 'Hullo, guv' in return, he proceeded to browse through the store in search of the products that would restock his personal inventory. He'd been running low due to the amount of concoctions he'd been brewing for work, far too many Veritaserum mixtures and antidotes that he'd lost count - he was sure that his cauldron had a hole worn straight through it after all the overtime he'd been putting it through. Although the Ministry would have gladly provided the supplies he used, Malcolm preferred to pick up his own. That way he was in control of the quality, for he knew that he would be given second-rate ingredients due to cutbacks.

It was a pity, however it all came as part of the snooping involved in Auror work, not to mention the fact that he'd been doing a little conversing with not-so-friendly individuals on behalf of the Order. While he had not received direct instructions to do so from the two older leaders of the organization, Malcolm liked to keep on top of things anyway.

After several moments, he'd come to the counter where the owner was serving the woman and deposited what he'd gathered - items spilling onto the counter, he proceeded to arrange them in an anal fashion that would aid the tallying and perhaps get him out of there that much quicker. He only needed a few extra things that were kept out of reach of normal customers and therefore he would have to wait patiently while the lady was served first.</sub>

[Alexa O'Burke]

The once soft chiming of the Apothecary's bell turned into a hammer driving at an anvil. Sadly, Alexa was in the hammer’s way, pounding, and pounding, and pounding... God! Someone rip the damn bell from the door! Groaning and pushing her face more into her hands, she felt better blocking out the light of the world; some light still shinning through the cracks of her fingers. Now, if only she could stop smelling everything as well as have her stomach from doing back flips.

So lost in her standing, curled up in her misery, she missed the exchanged between the new costumer and the shop owner. More to the point, she missed the fact that the shop owner had come back out from the backroom as was taking his merry, sweet time ringing up her order. The loud "Ping!" of the register each time he punched in a price on the old contraption was like a spike to the brain. Alexa found herself driving the meat of her palms into her eye sockets, finding it very soothing and reliving of the pressure in her head somehow. She never wanted to move her hands again.

If only life could grant her such simple wishes. The sudden sound of things clattering onto the counter next to Alexa caused her to jump, hands moving away from her face before looking over at the costumer so closely to her left in a very flustered sort of way. Alexa hadn't heard the man move up beside her, and the thought alone turned the flustered feeling into something akin to panic. She was becoming far too accustomed to such a feeling; she could feel the panic inducing flush move up from her neck to her cheeks. Looking away from the man's face and down to his hands, she watched him rearrange his things. So interacted by what he was doing that Alexa barley registered the fact that the older man was handsome in a slightly exotic sort of way. Someone was clearing their throat.

Twitching from the harsh sound, a very hung-over Alexa looked at the Apothecary shop owner. He was looking at her rather expectantly, and was that perverted sick humor dancing about in his eyes? Maybe she was looking too hard. Clearing her own throat, Alexa went rooting into a small, very non-descript, nor attention grabbing purse. Pulling out a bank note and a quill she leaned over the counter as the shop owner mumbled the ridiculous amount of money he was charging her and how he would have the bulk shipment sent to her flat sometime tomorrow.

Pushing the bank note toward the shop owner, Alexa mumbled her thank yous before quickly, and rather skittishly, glancing at the other costumer. Collecting what things she was taking with her, she fumbled and shifted the bag filled to the top with supplies about in her arms before turning around and heading for the door rather awkwardly. Yanking too hard on the door, bell jingling merrily, the door connected with Alexa's foot and caused for her to jerk. A package went tumbling out of her bag and smashed to the ground. Even wrapped up in the brown paper wrapping, the liquid leaked out into a sizeable puddle. Alexa swore before looking over at the two men with an expression close to distress and a need to be pitied. She really needed a drink.

[Malcolm Proudfoot]

<sub>(ooc: I warn, this is going to be murder, mainly because I'm just really faltering in the response department. The shaaaame. I know. Stone me.)

Malcolm finished his sorting without actually realizing that the woman beside him was watching him with some unconscious fascination - that, or she just zoned out while she happened to be looking in the direction of the items he had accumulated. Either way, the older man took no notice until he too heard the clearing of the throat coming from the owner of the store. Burly man that he was, he also had a zero tolerance for people (which was why Malcolm found it odd that the man decided to run a store where people obviously will always be around) and had a very low level of patience. This was displayed when even for the slightest moment the owner had lost the attention of the girl he was serving.

Watching the exchange with dull interest, it seemed the girl paid for her items and was off. Which meant, finally, that it was Malcolm's turn. One swoop of the arm and his items gracefully skidded across the counter so that they replaced the space Alexa's had left behind. Nodding to the gruff man, who broke out in the saddest attempt of a smile upon seeing his old employee, they both looked down at said items while they were rung up.

"Been keepin' well, Malcolm, m'boy?"
"Well enough."
"Aye, aye. Can't ask fer more durin' such bad times, eh?"
"No. One cannot."
"Is this ev'ry'thin', then?"
"Just a few items from the back stores, if you don't mi--"

Malcolm's sentence was cut off abruptly by the sudden sound of dropped items occurring at the front of the store. Both men turned their attention towards the commotion to find that Alexa had now managed to fumble with the neatly wrapped brown package she'd been given - its contents now coating the floor in an oozing liquid. The manager sighed while shaking his head, obviously silently cursing the heavens for giving him such a tall order so early in the morning. Meanwhile, Malcolm had moved forward and revealed his wand - closing the distance between himself and the package in a mere matter of steps, the ebony tip was pointed in the direction of the mess and quickly cleaned up.

"Scourgify." He muttered almost wordlessly, the sound coming more from the exhaling of air than anything else. Repocketing his wand, he looked over the girl and tilted his head in a curious manner. "You all right?"

"My floor nearly i'n't! Luck be the lady - that wasn't an'thin' stainin', was it now?" The shopkeeper called over to them.

Malcolm shook his head. "No, Fin, it wasn't. Cleaned up quite nicely. Set up another package for the young woman while you're wrapping mine." He requested, much to the chagrin of the owner (although the man agreed without much complaint) while Malcolm turned his full attention to Alexa. "I think you could use something to pull you out of the state you're in. You'll get mugged half down the street with the senses you have about you. A coffee would do. Come along now."

He made it sound so matter-of-fact while he gently pulled open the door for her, motioning for her to step outside. If the Leaky Cauldron was admired for one thing, it was the strong coffee one could get there. Perfect for sobering someone up when nothing else was available.</sub>

[Alexa O'Burke]

It was all rather pathetic wasn't it? Here she was a grown woman looking so utterly like a child wanting to be lead by the hand and to be told everything would be alright and that yes, she could have some chocolate milk when she got home; but, what was distressing was the fact that some strange man trying to lead her out of the store and toward some supposed place to get coffee. Clutching at her things, Alexa looked painfully small and frighten. Someone that looked like she would like nothing better but for the world to open up and swallow her whole. She flushed that dark blush of hers once more, neck to cheeks as she stood stubbornly in place; somewhere were there was an eye witness. "Thank you for the concern but I'll be fine." It didn't sound convincing, not even to her and Alexa winced at the harsh sun that was pouring through the opened door.

Shifting and shuffling, Alexa walked out of the door backwards, always keeping her front to the stranger in her attempt to flee from the situation, as she rambled, "Really, I'm only walking a block or so and then heading right home. I'll be fine, no need to worry or go to any bother." She stumbled a bit, almost tripping over the uneven pathway in front of the Apothecary.

((*rocks and wails* Gahh.. I'm soo sorry that this took so long and then it is crap. I don't know what else to do and I really shouldn't have started this while sleepy. I'll edit it later, I promise and have something better for you... *whimpers*))

[Malcolm Proudfoot]

<sub>(ooc: It's garbage, I know. Sorry. :( )

Catching her before she tripped and fell on her face, he listened while she rambled on rather powerlessly. It was almost pathetic, she reminded him of a young child who should be watched over by a caretaker, not a grown adult who was capable of consuming enough alcohol to have the sort of hangover she obviously did.

"As you wish." He said, looking at her over the rims of his glasses skeptically - he deeply doubted that she was capable of what she claimed. The Potions storeowner would probably finish wrapping the package and send it on its way to the young woman's house. There was no need for either of them to hang around really, but Malcolm's curious need to be a protector wouldn't allow him to take a step in any direction.

Returning to his normal hands-off policy, Malcolm released the girl from his directing and stopped in the middle of the Diagon Alley laneway. Crossing his arms, he shrugged indifferently. Frankly, he couldn't quite care all together whether she would prefer getting sober properly or through magic. She probably wouldn't even be able to walk straight if she tried, but Malcolm wasn't going to point that out - she hadn't even been able to walk through a door without creating a chaotic mess.

"Sometimes magic isn't a cure-all, end-all that people make it out to be. Shouldn't always rely on it when there are other ways to fix your problems." He said pensively, eyeing the crowd around them. Of course, she could tell him to go to whence he came but as always he didn't particularly... care.</sub>