The eyebrow rises higher at the sudden if brief look of simmering anger on the new shop boy's face. He'd wonder what exactly it is he does in the future except it's not likely to be all that different from what he does in the present. Just, perhaps, less in secret.

He smiles mildly at Dean. "Apologies for taking you away from your labeling work," he says in a dry as dust tone that means he's not sorry at all. "I need a few ingredients, if you please." He slides a neatly written list onto the counter. "For the honeywater, Miss Evans knows what I like, but since you're new - it ought be the one brewed from fireweed."