Closed Worn Down

[Alistair Lancaster]

admin approval #90830 ​

Alistair had tried the whole lone wolf thing. It wasn't working. Going it alone had seemed ideal not so long ago. He hadn't wanted to burden someone else with his troubles, or to rely on the support of other people - people he couldn't trust to always be there when he needed him, but Wolfsbane was incredibly difficult to brew, and ridiculously expensive to afford the ingredients for without a stable source of income, as it turned out. Alistair had been aware that it would be the case, yet somehow the reality was far worse than he'd imagined. There were no hand-outs from Hogwarts anymore. No more transformations every month that let him retain any sense of sanity. He'd been careful enough to keep as far from people as possible, but each and every full moon was taking its toll on him, both physically and mentally, and he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to manage it. The last few months had been unbearably painful to experience, and too many times had he woken up somewhere completely unfamiliar, trying to piece together his feral memories of the night before, or dressing the fresh scratch marks from The Wolf's frustrations. The Wolf. He didn't want to, couldn't possibly consider himself and that beast as one and the same. It wasn't him.​

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September's full moon had come early in the month, and unlike other months, it was due another at its end. As much as he didn't want to admit defeat, to show vulnerability, Alistair needed help. Desperately. Yet, there weren't many people he thought he could trust to help manage his condition. There were certainly a handful of people in the world who claimed to be understanding and capable of offering assistance, but Alistair knew that not everyone was sincere and honest about their motives. Plenty of werewolves disappeared each year with no trace, and it hadn't been all that long ago that the Pipers had been sentenced for hunting them down. No, Alistair couldn't put his faith in just anyone.​

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With an address scrawled on a piece of paper in hand, Alistair arrived outside of a house in Marton, and took a deep breath. It had been months since Leda had told him about her sister, and how she could help him if he needed it. He hadn't wanted it then. He still didn't. It was too much to ask, but at this point he felt like he didn't have any other choice. Alistair forced his legs to move toward the house and hesitantly knocked at the door. His reflection in the window was that of a disheveled mess, and the bandage covering his arm didn't help his worn down image. He could barely look at himself this way.​

 

[Olive Layton]

Olive had only been back in her home for a few days since giving birth to Felix. It had been relatively easy compared to her experience with her first child, and both now slept soundly upstairs, much to Olives relief. Both children had their bracelets, small charmed pieces that linked to those on Olives wrist, working similarly to the friendship rings that were sold to students in the village. If either child was even slightly distressed, Olives would glow red, whereby she’d apparate into their room. It gave her the time she needed to work her on projects for clients, and get the house in order, not to mention finish the plans for the upcoming wedding. Soon, she and West would move into a larger house with Asphodel and their two children, and there was much to be done in the meantime. ​

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The former potions professor missed having such a busy house as it had been over the summer. With Leda Mervyn and Wendall, and Lysander on occasion, it was extremely quiet now. The only thing that would break the silence was Ten’s cries, or the music the red head would put on to calm them. The woman was in the middle of making lunch when she heard the knock at the door, and for a moment thought she was imagining it. Laying down her wooden spoon, lowering the heat on the soup and hoping that her fiancé had come over, she headed through the house and pulled open the door with a smile. ​

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What she didn’t expect to see was a tired, weak and dishevelled blonde on her doorstep. She didn’t recognise him, and for a moment considered if he simply had the wrong house address. Asking if he was alright was clearly a stupid question, but even if she wasn’t the person he was looking for, she couldn’t turn someone in that state away. Peering behind him for any observers, Olive ushered the boy inside, looking him up and down as she closed the door behind him. “Can I help you?” She asked, frowning in concern. It was a good job she’d made extras for lunch.​

 

[Alistair Lancaster]

For a split second, Alistair could have sworn it was Leda who had opened the door, but as that second passed, he realised the woman in front of him was much different. He didn't object to her ushering him inside, and as the door closed behind him he realised this was it. There wasn't any turning back now. "I hope so." He said, a little more strained than he'd intended. "I'm a friend of Leda's. Alistair. She told me about you, said you brewed potions?" The woman had been a professor at the school while he was a student, but it had been for such a brief time that he doubted she'd have even recognised him. He took a shuddering breath. "I'm a werewolf." He told her. He'd admitted it plenty of times in the past - to his friends, to professors, the school. It didn't seem to get any easier, and out in the real world, he no longer had the backing of being a prefect, or the leader of a duelling club to ensure that admitting it wouldn't lead to any trouble. It was different now. "I've been trying to...to maintain my condition on my own. I just, I can't keep doing it anymore, and I don't know who else to turn to. Can you help me?"​

 

[Olive Layton]

Olive wasn’t sure if Leda had ever mentioned someone called Alistair, not that they’d spent too much time together over the last few years. She supposed it was another insult to injury that she didn’t know who her current friends were. “Yes, I’m a potioneer,” she said, waiting to hear why he needed her so desperately as to come round unannounced. Upon hearing he was a werewolf, the entire situation suddenly made so much more sense. She had a few werewolves that she helped out through their months, but she’d never actually met one, nor had one ever stand in her entrance hall. Most just wrote to her from around the world, friends of friends and family. She gave the boy another look up and down, in awe at just how real the condition was, before beckoning him through the house. ​

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She didn’t go to the kitchen though. Instead she opened up a cupboard under the stairs with her wand, kept locked to protect the children, and using lumos until she found the switch, Olive led Alistair down into the basement. “I can certainly try.” She’d said, believing that she did have what he would need, it would just take a little time. “It’s brave of you to even try to manage it yourself,” she hadn’t meant it to come across as patronising, only that she knew the importance of Wolfsbane on Werewolves, and how complicated it could be. As they reach the bottom of the stairs, the room opened out into almost a replica of her office during her time at Hogwarts. It was a huge open space, with various tools and tables to which she’d work at. “Please,” She gestered to one of the chairs in the room, before turning to rummage inside one of the cupboards, “Are you a recent graduate?” She asked head buried in ingredients as she called out, trying to get more information. After a few moments she pulled out a small red vial, and tipped the contents into a mug hanging from a shelf nearby. Laying it out on the desk, she finished it off with a ladle of hot water that had been simmering in the corner, before laying it out in front of the blonde for him to drink. “Tell me more about what you need,” she pushed, taking a seat opposite. “That’s just healing potion,” she added quickly with a nod to the mixture, thinking he would at least get a bit of his strength back.​

 

[Alistair Lancaster]

Alistair followed the woman, expecting to be lead to the kitchen, or some sort of brewing room. He hesitated once more when she stopped by a cupboard beneath the stairs that lead even further below the house. The reality of the situation was settling in. He had to believe he could trust Leda's judgement, that he wasn't blindly stepping into some sort of trap. He knew it was a paranoid thought to have, yet with how many articles he'd read of werewolf murders, or other anti-werewolf propaganda, he felt he couldn't be too careful. The youth slowly followed the redhead down the steps, glad they weren't solely illuminated by wandlight once she'd found an actual light switch. He couldn't agree with the woman that what he'd been doing so far was brave. More so, it had seemed like there wasn't any other choice.

Taking a seat, the lycanthrope glanced around the room, quite pleased it wasn't a sinister torture chamber. He smoothed out his shirt, trying to find some semblance of presentability, before raising his head to answer Olive's question. "Yes, I am. Class of twenty-fifty." He responded. It was funny. He'd spent most of his school years wishing he'd be free of the castle, only to now find out how good he'd really had it there. He gratefully took the mug she offered and blew on the scarlet water before taking a sip. It didn't taste too awful, comparatively to Wolfsbane at least, which was repulsive to swallow. "Thank you." He said, setting the mug back down. He couldn't be sure how much it would do for him, given that werewolf wounds only seemed to be treated with silver and dittany, though he did begin to feel marginally better already. "Erm, well. Wolfsbane, to keep me sane. I have to find somewhere safe to...transform. It's been harder to do when I haven't had any control of what's happening." He told her. "I'll figure it out. Somehow. I don't have a lot of money, but I'm willing to do anything I can to pay you. I'm not after free hand-outs, and I should have enough to cover the cost for a few potions at least." He informed her. He wasn't going to delude himself into thinking being a friend of the woman's sister was enough.​

 

[Olive Layton]

A year older than Leda. That made sense. He was still too young for her to have ever taught him herself too, but upon hearing how he really didn’t have any plans in place since graduating, she was relieved that he’d come to her instead of stay on this route of unease and danger. She couldn’t do nothing, and was frowning in concern as he spoke, worried for his lack of control. She did wonder why more support wasn’t given to students in his condition. The school had a good system for getting students to pass their exams, but much like some other schools she was aware of, they still lacked real life skills which were even more important if you turned into a werewolf once a month. “Usually, my clients that require Wolfsbane would be sent their potion. They wouldn’t pay for ingredients, only the final product.” They weren’t exactly cheap either, but given how necessary they were, Olive did try and cut it as low as she could. It would still take Alistair time though to adjust to not being at school, and for everyone’s sake she couldn’t just let him roam the forests until he had it under control. She considered the options. She wasn’t due to move house until the following year, and currently Ten and Felix would spend half their time up with West and Asphodel anyway. Perhaps if they could organise the correct timings, they could work something out. “I want you to stay here on the night of a full moon, learn to transform outside of what your familiar with. The house will empty..” she could always leave too if he made him feel more comfortable, it wasn’t unnatural for all of them to be at West’s house every few days. “This place is solid, and once you’ve taken the potion you’ll be calm anyway.” She was confident in her own abilities to brew potions. She’d been doing it successfully for many years and had many clients that trusted her, so there was no doubt in her mind that it was the right thing to do. “After a few months we can review your progress, and if you feel more in control we can revert to you being sent them in the post.” She concluded, hoping he would agree with her plan. ​

 

[Alistair Lancaster]

Olive informing him that it wasn't the first time she'd had clients in need of wolfsbane did help to settle Alistair further. She knew what she was doing, and he knew he was safer to trust her than not. She was a former professor, after all. One that Katherine had hired. With how accommodating of his condition his aunt had been during his time at the school, it reinforced that this was the right decision to make. He politely sipped at the crimson liquid in his mug and set it down, fixing the woman a look that quickly shifted to unease when she offered her place to him. It was generous. Very generous. He didn't want to accept, though nor did he want to say no. He didn't really have a stable home of his own yet to safely turn during a full moon. Nowhere warm to sleep during these Winter months that was far enough away to not be caught, or fortified enough to keep him inside. Even with a coat of fur, the outdoors were still the outdoors. Sleeping in a bed of dirt and sticks was not ideal. Then again, his whole situation was not ideal. He contemplated it in a moment of quiet uncertainty. "Are you sure? I don't want to intrude." He asked, casting a glance around her cosy brewing space. "Or accidentally ruin your furniture." Even sane, he had some sharp claws, and a whole tail he had to be aware of. There were so many vials just waiting to be unintentionally batted off of their resting places by a stray wag. Ugh. It gave him shivers just thinking about it in that way.​

 

[Olive Layton]

Olive was aware that having a werewolf in her basement wasn't going to be an easy thing, but she was sure there was something she'd be able to cast to protect her breakables, and there was no way she was letting a student transform in the wild without any training beyond what he knew from school. "Of course I am," she said, a smile on her face, something that was both for his as well as her own reassurance. "Worst comes to worst, you might bump into something, but anything that happens is repairable, items can be replaced." she nodded firmly, "No matter, it will be worth it if we can help you, and I want to help you," she said honestly. Olive didn't want Alistair to feel like he was a burden. If he continued the way he was now, it would be a burden on her to know she hadn't done anything. The potioneer had another thought playing around in her head, one that she wasn't sure if Alistair would be comfortable with, but she trusted her abilities enough to look after herself, and hoped that he'd be able to have a change of thought if that was the case. "I've helped out many werewolves in the past. Although.. I've never actually seen one," Olive knew one of the best ways of learning was to see it in person, not just in a book or in theory. "Could I.. stay while you're transformed. If I could just see for myself the process, it would help me help others," She wouldn't be in any danger provided he took the potion, and even if it for just one night it would have been invaluable for the red head to see the effects first hand.​

 

[Alistair Lancaster]

Olive seemed firm on the decision, and Alistair was far from being in a position to protest. He knew that the magic associated with lycanthropy made healing wounds from it almost impossible, and as much as she said anything he might break could be repaired, he honestly had no idea if it could. He was a dark creature, and he'd yet to see for himself if he could mend anything he broke when he was changed, or if that same dark magic made the damage permanent. Mending charms hadn't been necessary in the Howling Cavern. In any case, Olive seemed genuine, and he hated the fact he'd doubted her, and doubted Leda. Though, her last question caught him off guard, and he sat in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds, as he tried to find the words to respond with. Aside from Marisol, he'd never changed in front of anyone before, and it had been different when he wasn't the only one to do so. It was...a vulnerable position to be in. Yet, he didn't feel as if he had the option to say no, not after the redhead had offered him the much-needed relief from his loss of sanity. He needed it more than he needed to maintain any of his pride, and if it could help her in some way, then so be it. "Yes, that...if you think it will help. But, I feel like I have to warn you - it's not pleasant. We aren't like animagi. It's not a sudden and instantaneous change." He told her, on the off-chance she assumed it was a quick transfiguration from man to wolf. If only that were the case. The blonde finished off his mug of watered-down potion, and began to get to his feet. He hadn't expected to stay so long, or even be invited into the house. "Thank you for this. You have no idea how much this means." He told the woman sincerely. It was the furthest thing he could have imagined. "I really should get going. I...should I send you an owl?" He asked. Leda was lucky to have her for a sister, with how generous the woman was. It was odd how little he'd heard about her until the end of his last year.​

 

[Olive Layton]

Olive was pleased that he didn’t protest too much, she wasn’t going to let him transform outside and so she was grateful it hadn’t come to an argument. As Alistair sat there in silence for a moment, she thought that maybe it had been the wrong thing to ask. She didn’t want him to feel like she was trying to intrude, and assumed it probably was quite a personal thing, but even as he finally spoke and told her that it was a more gradual process than she was imagining, it opened her eyes to things she’d never realised. “I really do.” She agreed, a sigh of relief as she became aware she was going to be able to witness a real live werewolf transformation right in front of her eyes. She had to contain her excitement, not wanting to scare Alistair away. “Of course, I’m glad you came to me,” Olive said sincerely. She was proud of Leda for using her brains and people she knew to even suggest the visit in the first place. She’d sent her sister and cousin letters recently but perhaps it was time for another. The potioneer stood up, clearing away the empty mug, “I think that would be best. We can confirm the date of your arrival,” she nodded, beginning to walk him back through the house the way they’d come. “And please don’t worry about this. I know what I’m doing,” she sent the boy a reassuring smile, “I may not be a professor any more, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t want to help people. We’ll figure this out together and I’m convinced that once it’s under control you’ll feel more confident in yourself” she gave Ledas friend one more glance over, trying to do her best to make him feel at ease, before finally pulling open the door.​

 

[Eustacia Lancaster]

Eustacia had been keeping tabs on her young hound from the moment he'd graduated and entered the adult world. It had been a long wait, to have such a dangerous asset reach a stage where he'd finally be useful to her and her endeavors, and the woman looked forward to utilising him. The threat of his life-changing curse was a wonderful addition to the rest of the dark weapons at her disposal. She simply needed to ensure that he fell in line when the time came to use him.

From a distance, the necromancer watched as Alistair left the potioneer's house and disapparated back to his hovel, blissfully unaware of the stupidity behind writing down addresses while living in such a precarious situation. Anyone could be snooping. It really was rather dangerous. She herself waited for the minutes to pass before striding up to the front door. She rapped politely against its wood with the tip of her stave, and set it back against the stone floor. The smile plastered on her face by the time the redheaded homeowner answered may well have belonged to that of a kindly old woman. Motherly. Warm. "Ms Layton! A pleasure to meet you in person. I'm Mrs Woods, I received your owl. My potion is ready, I take it?" Eustacia inquired, in the voice of an elderly woman who enjoyed all the small things in life, but may well have lost her own head if it weren't screwed on. A feigned shiver ran through the woman's body. A woman her age simply shouldn't be left to stand out in the cold winter air for too long.​

 

[Olive Layton]

After saying her goodbyes to the blonde, Olive had taken a moment to consider what had just happened, before taking herself upstairs to make sure Ten and Felix were still asleep. She ought to have woken them up soon, give them some lunch, but as the red head stood in the centre of their room, admiring the rare moment of both her babies quiet and peaceful, she couldn’t bear to wake them just yet. As she looked over her daughter, who was already one year old, she knew that Ten was going to keep growing louder and more sassy with every year she turned. She reminded Olive of herself, but a more dependant, outspoken version. She turned to look at Felix, who looked so much more like West, sharing his eyes and face shape and little freckles along his nose. She was glad both children had taken their family trait of bright red hair, and she was stroking the top of her sons head when she heard another knock at the door. ​

She peered behind the net curtain of her children’s room, not believing that Alistair was back already. Had he forgotten something? No, instead it was a woman she didn’t recognise and so she quietly left the room, closing the door behind her and heading back to the front door. Pulling it open with a smile, she looked the white haired woman up and down but couldn’t place a name to her by looks alone. “Oh!” Her face lit up as she recalled the owl she’d sent a few days ago requesting that Mrs Woods came to her resistance to pick up the three vials of potion that she’d been brewing for the last few weeks. “Perfect timing actually,and it’s so good to finally meet you in person!” She smiled, wondering if she needed a cup of tea and a sit down. “Please come in, it’s all ready and bottled up, I just need to go and get it from downstairs,” she explained, moving back and helping the elderly lady through the threshold.​

 

[Eustacia Lancaster]

Eustacia stepped off the porch and into the comfort of the potioneer's home, her eyes surveying the interior with the mildest hint of critique. "A pleasure." She responded in a tone that lacked the same level of warmth as it had before, now that she was away from the view of the public street and it appeared that no one else was home. There wasn't much use in keeping up the facade for too long, especially seeing as the redhead wouldn't be recalling their interaction anytime soon, by the time she was finished there. When the necromancer turned back to face the woman, her smile appeared more malicious than motherly. "I don't think that will be necessary." The potions she'd ordered weren't a necessity, as much as they'd been an opportunity to let the potioneer drop her guard. After all, there was a whole division of the Scitorari involved in potion brewing at her disposal. It was almost a shame that Layton wouldn't have the opportunity to join their ranks. She may have made a wonderful addition.

"Imperio."

The words were uttered in an almost kind manner, with the barest inclination of Eustacia's staff to betray the fact she'd cast the spell. She watched in mild amusement as Olive's free will was extinguished, and returned her staff to her side. "Did you agree to brew wolfsbane for the boy who was just here?" Eustacia asked, pausing to allow the woman time to nod, and confirmed what she more or less already knew. "Yes, of course you did. You young people, always so predictable. Very well, my dear. You'll continue to go about your day to day life as you would regularly, until I tell you otherwise - but that wolfsbane you've promised? You and I both know that all it takes is one incorrect dosage to nullify its effects, don't we?" The necromancer asked rhetorically. Olive could only respond to the question if she'd wanted her to, but for the moment, all she required of the woman was for her to stand and listen, and let her dark magic ingrain itself in her mind. The elder witch raised her free hand and pressed it firmly against Olive's shoulder, her magic forcing the woman to look her in the eyes as she spoke. "You know what you need to do. You won't fail me." She told her, before turning away to allow her to resume her day unhindered. "I'll let myself out."​