Sharp hobbled his way through Hogsmeade, narrowly avoiding the playing children, and other witches and wizards rushing about to make all their purchases before the shops close. Sharp kept to his routine path, eyes straight as he neared the familiar purple building.

Sharp entered the building labeled ‘J. Pippin’s Potions’, the ringing of the bell knocking him into a new atmosphere, earthy smells swarming his senses, with a hint of something musty. It was comforting to him.

However, the usual Parry Pippin wasn’t in the shop to tend to his list of demands. Behind the counter and restocking ingredient shelves was a new face, a much younger face. And all Sharp did was frown and stare.