Who: Adrian Pucey and Caz Rosier. When: August 2nd, 1998. Late afternoon/early evening. Where: Caz’s shop, Knockturn Alley. (One of these days I'll actually name his shop :D ) What: Adrian comes in to get a potion. What he gets is a world of trouble. Rating: Low.
Adrian was just out of work that day. His hair was just a little bit messed up, because he’d been playing with it while reading the new regulations on underage charm use and he hadn’t looked in a mirror since. He had just a few errands to run that afternoon before he went home. Mostly, he was in a good mood. Work had gone just fine that day; it was really fairly unremarkable, a slightly-overcast and drizzly Tuesday when he hung a left and headed down Knockturn Alley. He had just a couple of things to get. Some supplies for Herbology mainly, but he wanted to step into the Potions shop first. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately and he thought he’d try his luck with a sleeping draught.
His insomnia was probably caused by stress from work. Adrian felt like he should have been promoted already, even though he’d only been working there for a few months. He shouldn’t still be entry-level. Someone should’ve noticed him by now, like the Minister of Magic, and ushered him up the ladder to a better-paying, more respectable position. Maybe he was just impatient.
Adrian had worked the top button on his shirt, which was white but just a touch wrinkled from wearing it all day, open so that he was a bit more comfortable, exposing his pale throat. His sleeves were rolled to halfway up his arm. A couple of faded cat scratches peeked out on each arm. His damn cat had split personalities.
He pushed the door to the Potions shop open, stepping inside. He moved quietly, almost timid. He was not a person who called attention to himself that much, and sometimes that came in handy. Maybe he’d get extra sleeping draught and pour it into a coworker’s teacup at work. He’d look much better if his competition was all passed out on the job.
Caz was behind the counter of his shop, as he generally was when it was open. He was the owner and sole employee to date - largely because he didn’t trust anyone but himself not to make a royal mess of things. Caz was something of a perfectionist when it came to his potions and his shop, and had a fairly poor view on the intelligence of most other people. That, and he liked to always know what was going on within the walls of his shop -who was coming in, what they were purchasing, and how he could use that knowledge to his own gain.
At that time, he had a cauldron behind the counter with him and was working on a potion. The liquid within was a shimmering blue colour with a rather floral scent lifting from the surface as he stirred absently, and then paused to make notes in the heavy leather-bound book in front of him.
Dark eyes flickered upwards as the door opened and a young man step through. Caz assessed him quickly, and saw that he was vaguely familiar. Someone else who had gone to Hogwarts. Pucey, he recalled. A Slytherin. The thoughts and bits of information ran through his mind in a matter of seconds as he set his wand to stir on its own.
“Can I help you?” he asked, his gaze a bit sleepy, his voice calm and even - purposefully put on to be just that.
It smelled flowery. Adrian took a deep breath in through his nose, his eyes shutting for just a second while he smelled it in. It reminded him of one of his girlfriends from school. She always wore perfume and it smelled like she lived in a florist shop. He didn't really like it that much. He moved away from the door, turning to look down a row of merchandise. Bottles upon bottles of different potions.
He hadn't really noticed the guy back by the cauldron at first, until he spoke up. Adrian looked over, head tilting a little. He recognized him vaguely from school, but he couldn't quite remember his name. He wasn't in Slytherin. Maybe Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. The corners of his lips twitched upward in a slight smile, a friendly enough expression.
"I'm looking for sleeping draughts," he told him, moving toward the counter. "I'm not sure what kinds there are, exactly," he added. He'd never really needed them back at school. Quidditch had kept him fairly active and so he was tired at the end of the day. He didn't have much to tire him out, now, so he stayed up and did a lot of thinking.
Caz’s expression was pleasant enough, open and friendly. It was also completely and utterly fake, but he’d had a great deal of practice in such things. He had been observing other people and mimicking their behaviours and emotions since he was a little boy. Ever since he discovered that he wasn’t really like other people.
“What effects are you looking for?” he asked as he pushed away from the counter and stepped around. He moved with a grace and fluidity - there was almost something prowling to his movements. Tilting his head that Adrian should follow - a lock of dark hair falling across his forehead as he did so - he started down one of the rows. The shop was rows of tall shelves made of heavy, solid wood, with many, many vials and bottles of different sizes, shapes and colours.
“There are calming draughts, which can give a gentle drowsiness. Sleeping potions that will ensure you sleep for eight hours. Dreamless sleep potions...” He trailed off as he listed them off. Of course there were other potions with more lasting, more intense effects. Ones that could put a person out for days or more, into sleeps that could not be roused. But Caz didn’t outwardly advertise those. He was careful as to keeping the things he sold in an outward manner all neutral if not legal.
Adrian tried not to watch Caz closely - and at the very least not noticeably - but there was something about the other man that was interesting. He was really very good at not looking at people that he wanted to steal glances at, though, so his gaze remained pointedly fixed on bottles and vials as he followed behind him. "I think I'd like one that induces drowsiness, fatigue," he added, though that was an odd word choice. Fatigue was not something one usually went looking for. But he felt like he'd stumbled upon gold with this 'sleeping draught in the tea' idea.
"And one that will make sure I sleep for the night," he added. "Are sleeping draughts easily detectable?" he asked, his expression a study in innocence. Eyebrows raised, as though saying 'who, me?' "I'd prefer the former be one that's very... subtle," Adrian said. Yes, subtle would be better.
"Sorry, you went to Hogwarts, right?" he couldn't help himself any longer. Adrian hopefully, at least, would find out the guy's name. "You look familiar."
“Detectable by taste and scent, you mean?” Caz asked, and his sleepy gaze turned on Adrian then, pinning him with a glance. He could think of only one reason why a person would ask such a question, and that was if they were planning to give it to someone unaware.
“They can be. Traditional ones do tend to have a rather specific flavour to them. Flavourless ones would be a more... unique brew.” Which, reading between the lines would say that yes, such things were possible. When it came to Caz there wasn’t much he couldn’t brew.
He nodded once. “I did. I finished two years ago.” He had an inkling that this young man was younger than him, although not by too many years. “Caz Rosier.” His last name tended to be recognizable enough, given who his father had been and what he had done. Although Caz looked the spitting image of Evan Rosier he had not been involved in Death Eater activities. The public tended to take that to mean he was a neutral individual. In truth Caz just had no interest in following anyone, the Dark Lord included. He wanted to leave. “And you are?” he asked, his voice still suitably polite.
Adrian nodded, because that was just what he meant. Sleeping draughts always had this taste to them. "Yeah, that's what I mean," he said, eyes going a little wider when Caz looked at him like that. He was kind of intense. Nothing like Adrian - who was a bit more playful. Weird how two pale, dark-haired guys could look so different. His own gaze was much softer.
"But you don't have anything like that brewed up already," Adrian half-asked, half-said, shifting his weight. He really could've used something like that. His hands slid into his pockets, and he looked up at Caz as he introduced himself. Oh, Rosier. His dad was one of those Death Eaters. It didn't bother Adrian the way it bothered some people - his own father had sympathies on that side too. "I finished last year," Adrian told him.
"I'm Adrian Pucey," he said, one hand pulled from his pocket to offer it out in a friendly gesture. "I was in Slytherin?" he added, his voice going up at the end as though it was a question. He wanted to be recognized; he'd been pretty popular, but life was so different after school ended. That stuff didn't really matter anymore.
“There isn’t a lot of business for people trying to drug other people,” Caz replied mildly. Which was actually a huge giant lie. For as much business as he did above the board and in his shop, Caz did an awful lot outside of the store. Under the cover of shadows and polyjuice potions in some cases. He sold any number of illegal and illicit products, but was careful to do so in such a way as he wouldn’t get caught.
“So I don’t generally keep such things in stock.” He had a way of sounding uncannily calm even when speaking of illegal things. Perfectly innocent sounding as well, even though innocent was something Caz most definitely not. It was interesting, that thing young man wanted such a thing, and that he would come and ask for it in such a straightforward manner.
His dark slashing eyebrows arched at the questioning note to Adrian’s voice. “Are you not sure?” he inquired. “I do remember your name,” he added. Caz was quite good with names. And faces. And any bits of information he could store away to be used for his own gain.
That time, the wide-eyed look that Adrian gave Caz was entirely genuine. His brows raised and lips parted for a second at the... well, the words were accusatory enough, even if Caz didn't seem that suspicious. "No, I," he started, stumbling over his words a little. He wasn't planning on drugging anyone. Just kind of making them fall asleep during work.
Now Adrian realized that he'd probably sounded a little rape-y. The realization had his cheeks going slightly pink. "I wasn't going to drug someone," he tried his best to sound honest, even though that was his intention. It just wasn't for anything more nefarious than, well, making them sleep. "Not in a bad way," he added, shoulders giving a little slouch. There was no way to spin that to make it sound less horrible. "Let's just forget about that one."
He swallowed hard, looking up at Caz again. He didn't seem to be calling Aurors or anything, so maybe he was all right. "Oh. No, I was definitely in Slytherin, I just... I didn't know if you remembered... me," he trailed off, fiddling with the cuff on his shirtsleeve for a moment, trying to distract himself from his complete awkwardness. The drugging thing had completely thrown him off. "Which house were you in?" he asked him, at least attempting to divert attention elsewhere.
“Is there a good way to drug someone?” Caz queried, sounding entirely conversational in his question. Really, he just wanted to make Adrian squirm some more, since he was already doing it so well. Caz liked making people squirm, in all variety of manners. However it was not something he got to do very often, for he was working under a guise of being a normal citizen of the Wizarding World. It was only when he lured someone in to Oblivate them afterwards that he really got to see someone squirm. This was an satisfactory substitute.
“I remember.” He wouldn’t call the Aurors, Adrian was safe on that. He had no love for that particular group of people. He was, however, pondering how he could use that little gaffe for his own amusement.
“Ravenclaw. I was in Ravenclaw.” He could have been in Slytherin, the Sorting Hat had considered it - he was cunning, he was ambitious, he was sly (the Sorting Hat had actually been quite disturbed by him). But the intellect won out. Caz wanted power alright - but knowledge was power, in his mind.
“Do you often plot to drug people?” He was hardly going to let Adrian off the hook so easily.
Adrian was having a hard time talking himself out of this one. His mouth hung open for a moment while he considered what to say to that, going "uhh," for a few moments while his brain tried to catch up. "Well, there are... you know, ways that are less bad," he stammered out.
He felt like a babbling idiot next to Caz, who seemed rather cool and in control of his own tongue at the very least. Adrian hoped, for a fleeting, bright, beautiful second that the whole 'drugging' people thing had been forgotten when Caz told him which house he'd been in.
He was just about to remark that Ravenclaw had been his own first choice as far as houses went, when Caz put him right back on the spot again. Adrian's cheeks went a touch pinker, gone from the color of soft bubblegum to a rosier pink. "No," he answered. Adrian shifted his weight, lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck, a nervous gesture. "I-I wasn't plotting to drug people," he tried to lie, but that made things even worse.
“Really?” Caz pretended to be genuinely interested in what Adrian was saying and not mostly interested in the reaction he was provoking. That the former Slytherin was as responsive as he was was quite pleasing to him. As was the pink colour that had crept into his cheeks. Oh how he liked a blush. It was a reminder of blood, after all, a hint of pink that could speak of the crimson that stained skin when he sliced it open.
“That’s not how it sounded,” he pointed out, pretending to take a moment to rearrange some bottles, even though they had been well lined up. “Why else would you require a draught that was undetectable?” Again those dark brows lifted in question. “What was your plan? Theft? Torture? Rape? Murder?” His head tilted in such a manner that he was peering at Adrian from the corner of his eye, watching him closely.
This was just not going well at all. Adrian felt like he was under a magnifying glass, in a weird way, like he was being studied. On display. It was an incredibly uncomfortable feeling that left him shifting his weight again, arms crossed in front of him and then down at his sides, then hands tucked into his pockets. The line of questioning made Adrian almost choke. His eyes and mouth both opened up. He looked like a fish for a few seconds, just staring, his head shaking fast.
"No! Merlin, no!" he exclaimed. "I wouldn't do any of those things," he said. His heart was pounding in his chest, feeling panic at the accusation. It wasn't completely out of left field, either - Adrian realized what his questions about undetectable sleeping draughts must've sounded like. "I-I just wanted to put it in my coworkers' tea," he admitted finally, his voice rather small and weak compared to the volume his denials had just had.
"I want a promotion," he went on. It sounded like a stupid plan, now that he said it aloud. "I'd look better if my coworkers were asleep on the job." His voice got softer the longer he went on, until that sentence ended almost in a whisper.
“You wanted to drug your co-worker to get a promotion,” Caz reiterated. Really, he had no problem with that. It was fairly mild compared to some of the things he could and did consider - and do - on a regular basis. But coming from Adrian, it was just perfect. One slip of the tongue, one suggestion of something that really was relatively innocent, and Caz could tug on him like a puppet on strings.
“I’m fairly certain that that would be illegal.” The smirk that tipped up the corners of his mouth was not quite nice at all, and not at all the usual calm smile he might show anyone else. But Adrian wasn’t going to be saying anything to anyone.
“What would happen, do you think, were I do tell your superiors? It would be the proper thing to do after all.”
"I," he started, but Adrian didn't know what to say to that. He nodded slightly, looking up at Caz. Oh, why in the hell had he asked about that stupid undetectable sleeping draught? He felt really uncomfortable about the way the guy was smirking at him. But it was what he said that struck real fear into Adrian's heart.
It was getting kind of hard to breathe. And it was getting much hotter in there; sweat broke out along his brow, his cheeks darkening even more. "I-I wasn't really going to," he choked out, trying to deny it.
It didn't work that well, though. When Caz brought up telling his superiors, he felt a wave of panic shoot straight through him. "Please!" he exclaimed. "They'd fire me. Please, I-I was just joking, I didn't mean it," he went on. His hands moved from his pockets back to his sides, one reaching out toward Caz as though to stop him, but fell short of actually touching him. "I was just joking," he tried that again. Maybe saying it twice would make it more believable.
“Oh I don’t believe that,” Caz murmured with a small shake of his head. “You wouldn’t have asked if you were not at least considering it.” He took a step forward, toward Adrian, although stayed enough away that they were not touching. The movement was deliberate, the look in his eyes steady and intense.
He could use Adrian, could use this situation to his advantage, and Caz was considering the possibilities, to decide how best to use him. There were a number of possibilities. If he played it right, he could perhaps get to each of those possibilities in turn.
“I won’t tell anyone,” he said slowly, as if it was just occurring to him. “But that means that you owe me.” Or, to exchange one word for another and one letter for another ‘I own you’.
What was it about the way that Caz looked at him that made Adrian feel like he was shrinking? He swallowed hard, ready to deny it all again, but the words died in his throat. He looked up at Caz as he came closer. His fate was entirely in this man's hands - he could've made a call to the Ministry about some entry-level kid looking to drug his coworkers and Adrian's career would be down the toilet. He'd never get another job again, not with that kind of a mark on his record.
When he said he wouldn't tell anyone, Adrian felt a surge of relief. It was so powerful that his body seemed to relax in an instant; one moment it was tight like a bow's string and the next, his shoulders dropped and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was even holding. "Thank you," he breathed.
But he wasn't sure he liked owing this guy. Not that he particularly liked owing anyone, but something about the look in his eye made Adrian feel uneasy. Adrian didn't know him. What did he want from him? "Wh-what do I owe you?" he asked him, suspiciously.
“Whatever I want,” Caz crooned out, dropping some of the pretense that he normally wore like an old, familiar mask. He took another step forward, and then another, crowding Adrian up against the wall behind him. He pressed a hand against the wall to his side , effectively trapping Adrian with his body.
“The way that I see it,” he continued, his eyes glittering darkly as the mark continued to slip. “Is that all I have to do is call the Ministry and you’ll be, at best, ruined for your career. And at worse... well. Azkaban is crowded these days.” He flashed a quick, razor edged smirk.
“Which means that whatever I want is precisely what you’re going to give me. To buy my silence, as it were.”
It was almost too much to make sense of, too much to understand. Adrian felt the wall against his back right away, even as it felt like the rug got pulled right out from underneath his feet. Caz was so close to him now that Adrian could feel his warm breath against his face. His eyes were wide, huge, heart hammering away in his chest. He was trapped there, and not just because Caz was pinning him against the wall. He was also trapped by the things Caz said. Because he really could do that, with just an owl.
"Please," he breathed, shaking his head a little bit when he mentioned Azkaban. Oh, Merlin, he couldn't go to prison! It was a terrifying thought. Oh, why had he even come to the Potion shop today? Why did he have to have that stupid idea about drugging his coworkers?
He drew in a breath and swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "What do you want?" Adrian asked. And the weirdest, strangest, most insane part of all of this was that only half of him was terrified. The other half was secretly, shamefully, excited. Thrilled, even. Adrian didn't even recognize that part of him though, much less acknowledge it.
“Oh I haven’t decided yet,” Caz leaned in to murmur against Adrian’s ear, his voice dropping to a low and intimate - and purely eerie - note. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? Whatever I want, I’ll get.” Unless Adrian wanted to give up his future. It was sort of a lose-lose situation for the young man - but a win-win situation for him.
Leaning back just far enough that he could look at Adrian, he smirked in a cruel manner. “The first thing I want, of course, is the understanding that this conversation never happened.” Which would benefit the both of them. Caz had appearances to keep up, and Adrian would want his silence.
“And secondly... you will come and assist me here in the shop. For the undetermined future. At least twice a week.” He did not specify just how Adrian would help him, of course.
Adrian could feel Caz's breath, hot against his ear. He didn't know if it was the feeling, the words, or the tone of the man's voice but something made him shiver, all the way from his toes up his back. He had to remind himself to breathe. The smirk... Adrian didn't know how someone managed to look so threatening just with one twist of their lips, but Caz Rosier did it with ease. He nodded, mutely, in response to the first thing he wanted. That was easy enough.
The second gave him pause. His lips parted in soundless protest. Two days a week? He worked full time already at the Ministry, but what choice did he have? He swallowed back the urge to complain about it. "I haven't brewed a potion in months," was the only thing he said in protest. He assumed, of course, that Caz wanted him to help with that type of stuff for the shop. Brewing, maybe stocking, helping customers... slave labor, essentially.
“I don’t need you to brew potions,” Caz replied easily. “That I can do myself.” He was a skilled potioneer, and generally did not trust anyone to be able to do as good a job as he could. “But I have a number of other things that you could do.” Shelf stocking, organizing, dealing with customers - well, those would be the easiest things Adrian might encounter. Playing guinea pig to Caz’s various creations and whims was much more likely.
“Do we have a deal, Adrian?” he asked, making the other’s name sound somewhat illicit. “Or shall I get in touch with the Ministry?”
Adrian had no choice. He leaned back against the wall, his head tipped back. His expression was that of surrender. Defeat. He made up his mind to ignore the way that Caz made him want to shiver when he said his name and he met his eye instead.
Every shred of how uncomfortable and how vulnerable Adrian felt was evident in his face, in the furrow of his brow and the softness around his eyes, and the worried pull of his cupid's bow lips downward, pursed and frowning.
"Please, don't owl the Ministry," he said once he found his voice again. "I'll do whatever you want. I promise." Why did he feel like he was going to regret those words? Adrian felt so powerless, so small. "We have a deal," he added.
Music to his ears, and precisely what he wanted. “Good,” Caz said, a single word to seal the deal. He pushed away from the wall then, and took a step backwards, dark eyes running over Adrian, as if sizing up a new horse he had purchased. There was something proprietary in his gaze.
“You’ll come back in two days. After work.” Caz’s shop was opened in the evenings, because that was when he tended to do much of his business. “If anyone asks, you can tell them you’ve been hired temporarily to do inventory.” Which he likely would do, at some point, so it wasn’t even a lie.
“I will let you know then what I want you to do.”
Adrian felt like he could breathe again, when Caz pulled back, even though he still felt pinned to the wall by the weight of his gaze. He couldn't put a word to what he felt; it was overwhelming. Confusing. He took a step away from the wall at last, arms folding protectively in front of him. As though that was enough to hide him from Caz's view or to put some kind of a barrier between the two of them.
"Okay," he said, nodding. In two days, he'd have to come back here. Which meant he'd have two days to figure out what in the hell had just happened. He looked sort of dazed, completely out of his depth. "I'll come back in two days," he repeated, looking down at himself. For some reason it was comforting; his shoes, his trousers, his shirt. He was the same person he always was.
"C-can I buy regular sleeping draught?" he asked, his voice a little bit hoarse. It was weirdly hard to ask that question. "It's for me, I swear, it's just to sleep - I haven't been sleeping-" he trailed off. Adrian normally wasn't like this, but he felt all out of sorts now.
“You can,” Caz replied, taking another step back. The look on his face was fully smug. He looked precisely like a cat with a mouse trapped under his paw. Turning, Caz went down the aisle, back to where the various sleeping potions were kept.
“Do you want regular sleep, or dreamless sleep?” he asked, returning to some semblance of the previous pleasant manner that he had been using. As if the little interlude had not just occured. Reaching to the shelf, his hand hovered in front of the vials and bottles, with little symbols etched into the glass. The symbols all represented various things connected to each individual potion. He waited for Adrian’s answer.
It made his head spin, when Caz just went right back to business as usual. His eyes were still wide as he watched him go to the shelves with the sleeping draughts, for a moment forgetting how to talk. Adrian knew that he should be stringing words together to make sentences. Or at least more than vowel sounds.
There was really only one answer to the question; after today, he didn't need dreams. They'd probably be all screwed up and weird anyway. No, dreamless oblivion sounded just perfect.
"Dreamless sleep, please," Adrian answered him, busying himself with finding his money so that he didn't have to look at Caz. His cheeks were finally starting to go back to his usual pale skin tone, and he could breathe again. If he just concentrated on counting out his sickles and galleons, then he should be fine.
“Dreamless sleep it is,” Caz said, and his fingers closed around a blue bottle that had a poppy etched into the glass. The poppy was a symbol of Hypnos, the Greek God of sleep. Pulling the bottle from the shelf, he turned and walked up the aisle towards the counter.
“You take a tablespoon before you wish to sleep,” he said as he slipped behind the counter, setting the bottle on the counter and pulling over a large and leather-bound book in which he kept notes on all sales that he made. “Sleep will come within ten minutes, so do not take it before you are prepared to sleep.” Flipping the book open he picked up his quill and wrote a few things in his precise and measured script.
“Two galleons and three sickles,” he said after he had closed the book and pushed the bottle across the counter to Adrian.
Adrian followed behind Caz back to the counter, feeling rather like a lost puppy. It was incredibly unsettling, the way that Caz acted like nothing at all strange was going on. Adrian was only being blackmailed, now.
He could barely follow simple sentences, so most of what Caz said went right over his head. Take some and sleep in ten minutes. That was the conclusion that Adrian came to. He got most of it, anyway.
Two galleons three sickles. He counted them out effortlessly - at least the part of his brain that counted still worked - and he held the coins out to Caz. "Thank you," he said, absentmindedly; just the usual pleasantries that accompanied a transaction. He took the bottle, fingers curled loosely around it, protectively. This one bottle had cost him a great deal more than a few galleons, that was for sure.