Memoria

Damian sat cross-legged on the ground in the center of the Quidditch Pitch, Lynne laying at his side. There was still a chill in the air, but it was no longer as cold as it had been. At least the ground wasn't soggy anymore.

He had a dark wooden case laid out before him, its velvet interior molded to hold numerous vials filled with various fluids. Ordinarily, Damian didn't bring one of his potions cases with him to a transaction, but unfortunately 'memory potion' was not specific enough, so he had brought them all. There were just too many memory draughts, both for aiding and repressing the memory. He would have to ascertain just which one would meet his classmate's needs. If it was not one of the more standard brews, he might need to custom make the potion for her.

Lynne sat up abruptly, attention turning to the far entrance to the pitch and tail wagging slightly in welcome. Damian shook his head at the wolf. Sometimes, she was simply too friendly. Granted, she was generally a better judge of character than he was. Damian own blue eyes rose to watch the Ravenclaw as she approached.