"You can handle potions, can you Millicent? How many do you have hidden around the house?" Antonin's voice was a little louder now.
"Oh, poor dear," his tone was getting a bit sarcastic, "you hurt do you? What hurts, that hole in your soul where you pour potions?" His words got a little cold, "I'll be talking to that healer in the near future, and he won't like what I have to say. But healer or dealer, what's the difference?"
"You're craving a potion now, aren't you Millicent?" Once again, Antonin's voice was calm. "Look at how you hold that little bottle; as if it was your best friend."