Renwick noted that Ernie barely glanced at his contract before sealing his agreement. He rolled the parchment up and tucked it away before getting out the same things he had for his other patients; glass test tubes, syringes and, after a moment's consideration, a small glass jar.
"Well there's a couple of them that I reckon might 'ave some merit," He said casually as he took Ernie's arm and rolled up his sleeve to access the crook of his elbow, "It could've blocked somethin' biological that we didn't know affects magic. If that's the case, it's just a matter of findin' it and fixin' it. Otherwise, giving your magic a kickstart might be in order, you know, like how it started back when you were a kid? Usually it's somethin' scary or dangerous that triggers it to start.. might be that you just regressed. Sharp scratch comin'-" It was barely a second warning before the thick needle plunged into Ernie's arm and deep red blood began to fill the syringe.