Thank you. Even Gabe drew the line before that particular breed of prank. Though he had once made Pete think he was girl for about thirty-six (hilarious) hours.
"And the anemone spines," Gabe directed, dumping them in after Ryland passed them on, "and let it steep for eight hours. Just in time for me to charm the house-elves into slipping it into Pete's morning juice." For all the good it would do. Gabe had countered every acting agent he'd found, but with the level of complexity (intentional or otherwise) going on in the brew, he'd be willing to lay money that some of them were decoys.
He needed - they needed - a new approach.
"It's late," he noted, leaning against the edge of the bench. "There's nothing else we can do tonight. You should go get some sleep."