"Oh, I see," Remus said slowly, smirking behind his lover's back. "That must be another of those Society rules you need to teach me? Undignified is allowable in private, but then it's not undignified." Scraping his teeth lightly over Regulus' bare shoulder, he grinned. "I might have to test this just to make sure I have it right."
"It's available. I'm not sure in what quantities, but it's available." Really, Remus thought a lot of the old muggle folk remedies were nothing short of lethal and they were idiots to use them. But try convincing some ninety-year-old Cymry woman using a centuries old recipe her grandmother passed down to her!
"I meant more for securing it than needing to draw it," Remus explained. "But, that's fine." He met his lover's raised eyebrow with one of his own. He had a feeling 'the discussion' would likely go on for however long it took to win this thing. But any comeback was overshadowed by curiosity with Regulus' next statement. "Horcruxes?" he asked, not familiar with the term and wondering why it would matter after Voldemort was dead.
Remus murmured Sorry as he lightened the pressure, making sure he hadn't bruised his lover accidentally. "The marks you like are almost faded," he added, a quiet note of disappointment in his voice. "Yes, we can blow that up."
He might take great joy in blowing the clinic up, though he thought he might feel a little guilty later when Patrick heard about it.
"Something to think about, maybe. Blowtorch might be handy, otherwise," he chuckled, hands moving lower to work the tension from Regulus' chest, a smile curving against damp skin. "I was thinking a motorbike, actually. Like Sirius' but not charmed to fly. It's compact, manoeuvrable, and I know how to both drive and steal one. All you'd have to do is hold on and watch our backs."