The morning after the full moon of March 8th, Remus entered my office with a serious expression on his face.
"What's wrong? You look like somebody died," I asked, looking up from my paperwork. "Also, don't you have the day off?"
"Did you give us new potions?" he asked, and I frowned.
"You mean the Wolfsbane potions? No, they're the same recipe I've been using since I hired you."
"Well, something was different this time," he told me. "The wolf… was unusually quiet. And when I woke up… there was less pain that usual."
"Odd," I murmured, trying to think about what I may have done differently.
Lycanthropy was a strange and old curse, and the potion used for it was relatively new, especially for the Wizarding World. Less than two decades old!
The Wolfsbane potion acted like a sedative. It had to be drunk before the transformation, usually around dusk for best effects. Then, the werewolf would become docile. The human side would be asleep and unaware of anything during the transformed state, but at least with the Wolfsbane potion the werewolf would be too addled to do anything. It was like giving catnip or silvervine to a cat. They just stayed in one place and sort of zoned out until the transformation ended.
"I think I know what may have happened," I said slowly. "I used a different source of silver powder than usual."
"How do you mean?" Remus asked seriously.
"You know how we've been expanding into the garbage disposal business? Taking junk and using alchemy to turn it into stuff we can resell or use ourselves?"
"Yes, I'm aware," Remus nodded. I chuckled. Of course he did, he'd had to expand the security forces to cover that new business as well, meaning he'd been working extra hard these last few weeks.
"Well, silver isn't exactly cheap, not even in the magical world, so I took some of the silver that was reclaimed from the alchemical recycling methods in this month's Wolfsbane potion," I explained.
"I see," the werewolf muttered. "I think that might be why I felt so different. The alchemically transmuted silver gave the potion a stronger effect."
"Interesting if true," I mused, though it sounded right. The alchemical recycling method I used would have separated the base metals from all impurities, making it as close to 100% pure silver as possible. Something that was difficult to obtain even when using magic to mine the stuff.
"Also, tell us next time you change the ingredients or the way you obtain them," Remus requested, giving me an exasperated look.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think there'd be any major difference!" I apologized.
"I know. Still, if the transmutation process had been even a little off…" Remus trailed off and shook his head. "Well, I think you know what would have happened."
I nodded with a wince. There would have been four werewolves whom their family would have assumed were properly sedated, but actually weren't. They could have attacked somebody!
"There's a reason why alchemy isn't so widely practiced despite how useful it can be," Remus added in a warning tone. "It's a precise and demanding art, even more so than potions, and a single misstep can result in failure. Often times fatally."
I bowed my head, properly chastised. "Again, I'm sorry, Remus."
My head of security grunted but nodded, accepting my apology.
"Anyways, since I'm already here, might as well get some of my own work done," Remus sighed, and I gave a commiserating chuckle.
"Paperwork, eh?"
He just nodded and left, heading to his own office. I watched him go before silently making a note to give him and the other werewolves (and person who had a werewolf child) a small bonus this month as an apology. Remus had been right, I should have told them I was changing where I was getting some of the ingredients for the potion.
'Hmm, while I'm thinking about it, I better go check on the garbage disposal project,' I thought to myself. It was going to be a real moneymaker for me once it really got going. Alchemy as well as transmutation were the keys to a lot of high-tier magic, including the creation of the Philosopher's Stone, something which I still wasn't willing to attempt with my meagre skills.
Decision made, I finished up the work in front of me, made some appointments and called some people, and then headed out, Inky teleporting me to where I wanted to go.
The garbage disposal and recycling facility I'd built was far away from the potion factory. It was technically still in London, but at the very edge. This was for a couple of reasons, secrecy one of them. But also, nobody wanted trash near them.
The facility was pretty big. It had a partially enclosed area for garbage trucks to enter, while the trash itself was piled up in a large, sprawling heap in a fenced in area that was exposed to the elements. All in all, a very common looking junk yard. I'd gone for the name Citrine Services for my new business. Named after the Citrinitas stage of Alchemy as an homage, I had a lot of hope for this one.
As I got closer to the facility's parking lot, there was a familiar face standing out front the main building waiting for me.
"Morning, Mark," I said, greeting the 'reformed' criminal in charge of my new business. He preferred to be called 'Mark' instead of 'Marky,' so I used that instead.
"Yo, boss," the bald man said, giving me a polite nod. He had been working hard ever since I'd forcefully hired him, and had been very quick to embrace my ideas of using magic to turn a profit.
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