Every single holiday, a head in a box

[falsify]

The joke is it is in fact a head in the box. Thread headers inside. Any issues or questions, please don't hesitate to send me a PM/contact me on plurk/comment on the plotting post!

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[constantprisoner]

Sirius taps the side of his nose.

"I have a fairly decent sense of smell. If there's magic, or some other strong scent. I might be able to track it down."

It would just mean smelling the head, which was equal parts disgusting to him and rather awkward as well.

[reticence]

The look on Faolan's face pretty much says it all, but he supposes that if Sirius believes he can pick anything up like that, than who is he to hold him back from it. He won't be the one sniffing the head, after all. In fact, he's been doing all that he can to keep from doing pretty much exactly that. Smelling the thing in any way. He'd wondered how long he'd be able to keep it in his office before it had really started to smell. He hopes he doesn't have to find out.

"If you'd like," he says, motioning towards the box itself. "It's all yours..."

[constantprisoner]

It's still gross. And disconcerting. And a whole host of other things that Sirius doesn't even want to consider. Ideally, he'll only have to do this once, get a read on the scent and then let his nose do the rest of the work. And so, shoving aside the rational part of his brain that is screaming "it's a severed head", he leans forward and takes a few sniffs of the box, and the head.

"God that's disgusting" he says, pulling away and rubbing his nose. "But I definitely smelled magic."

[reticence]

Faolan raises his eyebrows again. "Any sort of specific kind of magic?" he wonders. Maybe it's the magic that killed her -- although from the look of it, if it was magic that did the deed, it was rudimentary at best. More likely whatever he smells could be who did it? Unless he's smelling the magic from the woman herself. But that wouldn't still be lingering, would it? Not after being dead for as long as she had been. Maybe there was some sort of preservative spell on the thing. Maybe Sirius doesn't even know the answer. But he has to ask regardless.

[constantprisoner]

"My nose isn't that specific, unfortunately, and I don't really want to get that close again."

Mostly because of sanitary reasons, since that was definitely not. Although he does let it sit for a bit, trying to think.

"Although, there might have also been some spices or herbs as well?"

[reticence]

Faolan nods slightly. It isn't a lot more than they knew before, but it's more than they'd have had if Sirius hadn't tried.

"For the preservation maybe?" he wonders aloud. "Unless the specific herbs maybe have some sort of meaning..." He doubts it though. He doubts that whoever was sending the message would have done so in the choice of herbs they'd have included. The severed head was message enough in and of itself, after all. The question was, who? And of what?

[constantprisoner]

"The preservation thing does make sense. I couldn't even begin to guess at a meaning."

Sirius had made a career about, generally, not meddling in the affairs of witches.

"It's a distinctive scent, however, so I should recognize it if I'm wandering around town."