Sarah Copper made Fred Weasley's pulse race. There was something about the confidence that did it for him.
* * *
"So, Sarah - " George began.
"We were hoping we could have your help?" Fred continued, draping an arm on the back of the sofa.
"Sure...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sarah stood in the basement of the shop, where a long line of cauldrons were pushed against the stone wall. It was chilly when Sarah first entered, but was now rapidly warming up with the fire of her cauldrons.
She had several going at the same time. On the furthest end, a simmering cauldron of green Common Antidote, which cured most poisons. Beside that, there was a cauldron filled with transparent Photograph potion, which was used to develop wizarding photographs. Next to this was a swirling pool of soon-to-be burn-healing paste. Then there was the usual batch of Mindfulness Mix that Moody had been hounding her for.
However, the potion of most interest to Sarah was within the cauldron she was currently stood beside. It was half-full with a murky, green substance, similar to that of viscous slime.
Sarah stirred the potion idly with a thick, wooden stick. With her other hand, she pressed a notebook into the stone surface of the counter, as it kept closing.
Sarah resigned to pushing the notebook under a cylinder filled with knives, which kept the notebook somewhat open.
Now, with both hands free, Sarah grabbed the wooden stick and stirred the potion with a great amount more of force.
In her notebook, her own writing - her own recipe, for that matter - told her that she was to stir the potion 10 times clockwise. The potion was so thick, that by the tenth stir, Sarah's right arm was begging for a break.
Much to her dismay, the potion hadn't undergone any noticeable change.
Sarah cursed under her breath, as she took a couple steps back from her potion to calm down. Her hands were in her hair, attempting to massage the frustration away.
She wasn't sure why she was surprised to see this potion not working. She was attempting the impossible - to bring someone back to life - and part of her expected it to work the first time.
Sarah took a defeated seat on a barstool away from the boiling, bubbling cauldrons, where the creeping chill of the basement caught up to her.
She glared at the cauldrons, before letting out a whine, "I hate potions."
That was a lie, of course.
After a short break, Sarah turned off the heat of the potions, depositing then into vials using a filter. She pushed corks into the openings of the vials, and pressed sticky labels of what potion was what.
After this, she placed them in a small basket, before leaving the chilly basement using the rickety wooden stairs. On the shop floor, which had been closed for a few hours now, Sarah shuffled fo the backroom and up the staircase to her flat.
Opening the door with a jingle of keys, Sarah crossed the entrance way in two steps and entered the living room with a relieved sigh.
Capri and George were sat together at the table in the kitchen, greeting her quietly as she entered. Fred was sat on the sofa, eyes scouring over the accounts book for the shop.
