Cauldrons and Conundrums

This was your last resort.

Your stupid ex had tried to talk you into giving him another try and when you refused, he used voodoo to get even.

It wasn't your fault that he couldn't handle being rejected, despite that there was no divine intervention to cure you, the innocent in all this, of your magical ailment.

So here you stood, in front of an old shop you passed a million times. The shop had an eerie air about it, maybe it was just the black stone or the thunder that rumbled when someone walked in.

You took a deep breath and pushed back everything in your being that told you to get the hell away from it. You walked in, pushing the heavy wooden door open.

The first thing that hit you was the overpowering incense and the bright green smoke hanging in the air. Dark wooden shelves lined the walls, and in the center of the room was a large cauldron, several smaller ones placed around it. The only lightning in the place were floating lights that reminded you of the grand hall in Hogwarts.

"Can I help you?" A woman with a thick Scottish accent asked.

You turned the sound of the voice and saw a woman with vibrant red hair and eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light.

"Uh, yes, I was wondering if you had a cure for a curse." You answered.

The woman gave you a look that seemed to ask if you were incredibly stupid.

"You're going to have to be more specific, (lad/lass)," she scoffed.

You sighed and crossed your arms, if this woman had magic, why couldn't she read minds? It would make things a hell of a lot easier.

"My ex cursed me and now everything I touch turns to stone," you explained.

"How long ago was it cast and what objects have you touched?" She asked, taking notes on an ancient piece of parchment.

"Yesterday evening, and a hamster, three door knobs, a pair of converses, and a flannel shirt," you listed.

She nodded and walked to the large cauldron, while speaking under her breath. You followed her and looked into the mass of cast iron. The liquid that was currently in it was a dark purple, but it also looked solid.

Naturally you decided to poke it.

"Don't touch that," she snapped without looking up from the paper.

"Why not?" You asked.

"It will either cause you greatest enemy to fall in love with you or your arm to disintegrate from the elbow down," she informed you. She put down the parchment and bustled around the shop, looking for ingredients.

You stood at the cauldron, squinting at the labels that were plastered on nearby vials, trying to guess what the words meant.

The witch came back and poured different substances into the vat of cast iron. After letting it sit for a minute, a green vapor rose from the liquid. She smiled, pulled an old medicine bottle from a shelf, and dipped it into the cauldron. She wiped away the excess of the antidote that had gotten onto the bottle.

"Be a lamb and hand me that bag, will you?" She asked. You did as she asked, careful to not let your skin touch anything, in fear of it turning to stone, and she grinned at you.

She muttered a few words into the bottle and placed the cap on it. She handed it to you, along with a receipt and a list if instructions with it.

"Drink exactly one half of this potion, no more and no less, and with the remainder, sprinkle it over everything you turned to stone. The effects of the curse should end within 24 hours ," she rattled off. You read along on your parchment.

You opened your mouth to say 'thank you', but she spoke before you could

"That will be $65.40," she said.

Shit! You felt like punching yourself in the face. You only had half that amount in your pocket. You sighed.

"I only have half of that amount. Is it possible for us to work something out?" You asked her.

She smiled wickedly. "I will need a few things first..." You swallowed as you saw the predatory gleam in her eyes.

"Okay," you squeaked.

The witch had a pair of scissors in her hand as she walked towards you. She took a strand of your hair and snipped it off. "By the way, my name is Rowena," she introduced herself as she caught the lock of hair in her hand.

Maybe making a deal with a witch wasn't such a good idea after all.