Accidents aren't the best way to start on Potions

Charles Schmidt

November 23, 2008 9:09 AM

Lesson 1 - How to cause an accident - 3rd, 4th, & 5th years by Charles Schmidt

The classroom was rather bare as classrooms come. The walls were unadorned, boring beige, and considerably clean after decades and decades of potions exposure. The double seated desks were lined up in perfectly straight rows facing a seemingly unused black board behind a plain teacher's desk. This desk, completely covered in wrinkled scrolls covered with a messy scrawl, was about the most interesting object in the class, really. Well, besides the professor. Interesting didn't even begin to describe him. It would have been almost demeaning, in fact. Professor Schmidt, after all, was literally a walking potions accident. A poster board for what would happen if you weren't careful in class. And he certainly was never one to be careful.

Charles stood by his clean chalk board, arms crossed, giving a friendly smile and nod to each student as they walked through the door. He imagined his hair would be the first focal point of his class, with it's rather erratic look. A large patch in the back was a muddy green and had the consistency of mold while the right side grew noticeably longer than the left, causing his face to look forever lopsided. The rest was an orangish-brown, with sparse grey hair scattered throughout, the only indication of his true color. He supposed he could have had it fixed, but he'd always been too busy for that what with being the head wizard experimentalist at the Department of Experimental Potions. He had more important things to do than to rectify his blunders.

Professor Schmidt waited for the class to settle down before taking a piece of chalk in his hand and raising it high towards the board. The arm of his robe slipped precariously down, making visible the many scars, burns, and polka dotted patches of arm hair that were left after his last job.

"Potions Safety," he recited loudly as he wrote these words on the board with the added emphasis of a double underline.

"Yes, that’s right, we are going to have a bit of a review today.“ He could feel the groans coming on already. The word ‘review‘ incited even a little rebellion in himself, so he could imagine how his students felt.

“If you don't want to end up like your old professor," he continued with a twitch of his eye (a tick Charles never was able to kick), "you'll follow all instructions to a precisely accurate degree, now won't you?" Purposely, he brushed the hair on the right side of his face behind his ear, which had a lobe that drooped quite amazingly to his chin. With a quick, rather unsteady turn, Professor Schmidt resumed writing on the board and began a favorite childhood muggle tune in his jauntiest voice.

"Doooo youuuur ears hang low, do they wobble to and fro..."

He looked over his shoulder with what could have been considered an evil grin on his face and gave the class another twitch of his eye before continuing.

"Can you tie them in a knot, can you tie them in a bow...."

The board read as follows:

Armadillo Bile
Sneezewort
Ginger Roots
Rotten Apple
Doxy Eggs
Fluxweed

And he finished his song, with great enthusiasm and arms open wide as he gazed at his students...

"Can you throw them over your shoulder like a continental soldier, do your ears hang low!"

Professor Schmidt gave a regal bow and paused, looking around at all the young faces as though expecting applause. He quite liked his joke and thought it deserved a reaction of some kind, if not applause. Clearing his throat, the professor went back to the lesson at hand.

"Anywho, in all seriousness both safety and following instructions are very important when pursuing the great art of potions creation. Though none of the potions you will be making while attending Sonora will have nearly the dire or lasting affects that you see here," his eye twitched nervously once again, "you will still want to take every precaution and pay attention to every little detail."

The professor walked over to his desk, shoving a few ragged scrolls onto the floor and revealing a much-used, incredibly beat-up cauldron. It was his favorite. Almost endearing, really. A bit like a pet. Charles even named it, after a character from his favorite show as a young man.

"Now, let's say you're using Alice here for your latest potions project. First of all, you will notice she's absolutely filthy." He gave a disgusted grimace while leering at the potion stains that had been bestowed upon Alice. "She also looks like she may have taken a few too many stumbles down the stairs. Look at all these dents! So, point number one is, take care of your cauldron as though it were your little brother or sister!" Charles paused in thought before adding, "a little brother or sister you like, that is. Anywho, you never know how a potion will react to a dirty old cauldron like Alice."

"The second thing to note is your own proximity to Alice," the professor continued while hovering over the cauldron to the point where his head was almost in it. "This, my future potions masters, would NOT be a good idea. No, not at all, let me tell you from experience. Keep your distance, that's all I have to say on that."

Standing back from the cauldron, Professor Schmidt went on to say, "There are of course many other safety rules to keep in mind, but…we will leave those for later and hope to Merlin you don’t break them. Now, I'm going to let you learn the second part of today's lesson for yourself: the importance of following instructions."

"You may have already noticed that each pair of you has a card stuck to the underside of your desk." Charles took the card from the desk of the nearest student. "Each card has a set of instructions that uses five of the six ingredients on the board....and they're all different." He gave a serious look while waving the card around in the air.

"We're going to find out today how these varying potions will react, assuming you follow the directions. Only one of them creates a potion that is of any practical use to us as witches and wizards. When the proper concoction is ingested, the drinker will appear like a complete idiot to everyone but him or herself. They will be saying one thing, but everyone else will hear something entirely different and completely ridiculous. If the potion is not correct, well, you‘ll see" Charles smiled and handed the card back to the student before continuing.

"Alright, you're already sitting next to your partner, go at it and follow those directions! I'll let you fight with your fellow classmate over which of you will actually drink the potion in the end."

OOC: Let's see what kind of potions you can come up with! The preparation and reaction of your potion are all up to you and your partner, however; please keep it somewhat realistic considering you are students and not yet the potions master that Professor Schmidt is. None of these potions should have dire effects; they will be mild and curable. I am not in the business of knocking off students, after all. Also, when one pair of you happens to decide you want to be the group with the correct potion, please indicate this in the title of the potion reaction post with something like [CORRECT] so that we all know. Creativity counts. Entertain me.

Subthreads:

A Potions Carol by Holly Greer with Charles Schmidt

Not that I've ever liked this class...but this is a bit much by Lutece Anthony with Oliver Abbott, Lutece

Step One: Have me in your class by Gabrielle DiCarlo with Elly Eriksson, Elly

Wishing to be anywhere else by Hannah Laurent with Eavan Valentine, Hannah

Accidents are what I try to avoid. by Grayson Wright with Lucas Smythe

This is...different. by Helena Layne with Meredith Lail

Accidents aren't the best way to start by Paul Tarwater with Lucie Dupree, Paul

I'm pretty good at causing accidents already. by Amber Carey with Thomas Fitzgerald, Amber

Stay down, breakfast, stay down by Annabelle Winslow with Echo Elms

I'm rather hoping I fail this lesson. by Laurie Cider with Renaye Warren, Laurie

I'm just so enthusiastic... by Thyme Barrington with Cynthia Smythe

0 Charles Schmidt Lesson 1 - How to cause an accident - 3rd, 4th, & 5th years 0 Charles Schmidt 1 5

Holly Greer

November 24, 2008 11:47 AM

A Potions Carol by Holly Greer

Holly despised Thaddeus Flatt to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. He was a beastly man who took delight in playing with her already fragile mind and sensibilities. He was the primary cause of her addiction to calming droughts and her dependence on sleeping pills. He was nasty and mean and he picked on her more than anyone else. Nothing else came close to the horror and distaste and hatred she held for him and his subject.

Holly despised Flatt with a passion.

There were other things she didn't care for, and potions, with its awful smells, the heat that frizzed her hair, the steam that was bad for her complexion, the risk of injury, and just the disgusting nature of the ingredients in general, was among them. But despite this, History was still far and away her most hated subject. Even DADA gave her more nightmares than did potions. Since most classwork was done in groups and she could foist the icky parts off on boys or Renaye, Potions held only the third spot on her list of least favorite subjects.

Permit it, then, to be restated, emphatically, that Holly Greer hated Thaddeus Flatt and his rendition of History above all else. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing remarkable can be made of her reaction to Charles Schmidt.

He'd been introduced at the Feast, but Holly hadn't paid attention. She'd been too busy watching her brother and avoiding the most annoying of her Pecari housemates (which should be read as 'all of them except Raoul'). Neither did she glance his way as she entered the classroom. She just made her way to the back of the room and selected a seat next to someone whom she was fairly sure she could get to do that nasty part of the potions work. (She was also distracted by wondering if maybe this tendency to sit next to and smile sweetly at boys so they'd do her bidding during Potions was what got her Class Flirt in the yearbook.)

So it was not until class began that she looked up at her new potions professor. At first, she just sat frozen in appalled horror. Not even the vampire in Flatt's slides last year had been as repulsive. When Schmidt pushed his uneven hair out of the way and she saw what could only loosely be called his ear, Holly's face went white and she swallowed back bile. She fumbled in her pocket for a calming drought.

Her fingers were shaking too badly, though, and she dropped it. The vial cracked on the floor beside her and the precious sanity it contained spilled out. She reached into her bag for her back-up supply. She fumbled with the stopper and chugged it.

It didn't work quickly enough.

When she looked at the - was he still a man? - in the front of the classroom again, the potion roiled in her gut, and threatened to come back up. Combined with his words - a cautionary tale that potions work could make her look like him - it was just too much for her.

She jumped up and fled the classroom, a hand clamped over her mouth and a decidedly green cast to her skin. She needed a toilet right now.

History was now her second least favorite class. At least the sight of Flatt roused feelings of anger and resentment, not nausea. \r\n\r\n

1 Holly Greer A Potions Carol 123 Holly Greer 0 5

Lutece Anthony

November 24, 2008 4:30 PM

Not that I've ever liked this class...but this is a bit much by Lutece Anthony

Ever since her first year, partnering with Oliver, Lutece could not have been said by any measure to have enjoyed Potions. In fact, she blamed the class for almost everything that had happened to her since. Oliver may well have been the only relatively good-looking boy in her year who wasn't as good as gay. But he hated her, and that had all started with the stupid first-year Potions lesson, when he'd gotten all snooty about her accidentally messing up his stupid little potion. It wasn't her fault! Nobody'd bothered to explain to her that this magic stuff was real, and not just some made-up game someone had invented to mess up her head. Nobody'd bothered to explain what should have and should not have been done in a Potions class. The short of it all was that nobody had bothered, and consequently her only chances for a date within the school might as well have been ruined.

Oh, and she was almost positive Oliver had a thing for her roommate.

Life stunk.

And then, just to make it all monumentally worse, her parents were divorcing for good, she might be forced to spend the rest of her life with her mother, and James had received a letter to attend Sonora. It was horrific. Of course the little brat was in Aladren House, of course he was probably showing everyone up in everything already, and of course Lutece was phenomenally irritated about it.

Over the summer, she had changed her hairstyle, cropping it shoulder-short and (secretly) starting to use some magical hair-curling potion on it. A curling iron was such a pain sometimes, and her wand didn't work all that well, so what was a girl to do? Even Lutece didn't have that much principle to stand on. She'd also gotten a complete new wardrobe, discarding the sugary pinks and purples of the previous years and choosing some wonderful new capris, camis, and half-sweaters that complemented her blue-green eyes stunningly, in her opinion.

But all that aside, the fourth year Crotalus hated Potions with a burning and firey passion.

It was only after she walked in, almost late, sullen, and wearing a teal cami and white capris under her mandatory, disgusting school robes and took a seat at the very back did she realise Professor Connell wasn't there. She'd known, of course, that Professor Connell had left, but still--

To be replaced by that thing up there?

Lutece was so horrified she couldn't bring herself to do anything but slump in her seat, head on hands, staring blankly at the floor. Why?? Why??

"I hate my liiiiiiiife," she groaned quietly to the person seated next to her.

0 Lutece Anthony Not that I've ever liked this class...but this is a bit much 100 Lutece Anthony 0 5

Gabrielle DiCarlo

November 25, 2008 12:19 AM

Step One: Have me in your class by Gabrielle DiCarlo

Walking into the classroom, Gabrielle gave a bright smile in return to the professor when he nodded and smiled at her. She paid no mind to his outwardly appearance. He could have had three extra eyes and it would have gone unnoticed merely, because in her view, looks were inconsequential to the energy that surrounded a person. Someone could have had the most physically attractive outer shell to the point that others vied for attention from this person, yet it wouldn’t matter in the least to her if their aura was dark. To her, it meant they weren’t a worthwhile person, because their insides were corroded. So far, at the school, though, she thought she was lucky, as neither of her roommates were like this. She only hoped her fortune would continue, as she took a seat at one of the desks.

When the professor started lecturing, Gabrielle scribbled notes in her lined notebook. She had tried unlined paper once and had ended up drawing the entire lesson. She had long since learned that the best way to pay attention, especially to rules, was to take notes on lined paper. Otherwise, her mind had the tendency to wander around. Well, not so much her mind as her eye. She had a natural curiosity about the world around her in that she wanted to take in everything from the outsider’s view. She wanted to capture everything at any given moment, which made it rather hard to concentrate. Thankfully, she had learned tricks to focusing after her first year of school when she had earned a stern lecture from her father about her dismal grades.

Of course, it was very hard to write down the rules when the professor suddenly broke out into a muggle song. She knew the song. She had sung it with other kids when she was younger. Her lips twisted into a smile of amusement and when he bowed, she clapped her hands and rightly so. It was a most excellent song and she had never had a professor before that had broken out into one during class. It was beyond the words of cool. It was also somewhat unfortunate, as more than likely after the class, she would be singing, softly, but still singing, the song down the hallway, which would probably give the impression of her strangeness to others. She didn’t care, though. She had always listened to the notes of her own flute rather than the beating of others’ drums.

Uh-oh. They had to take every precaution and pay attention to every little detail. She was doomed and her partner was doomed unless by some miracle her partner was rather possessed the qualities necessary to do those things in spades. Details she could do when it came to replicating something or someone. Details with a scientific basis were an absolute no. This is what made Potions her absolutely worst subject. It wasn’t like she didn’t try, because she did. It was simply that she would begin thinking of other uses to the materials or a particular shape or shade would catch her eye, and then she would forget where she was. She always ended up with too little or too much of something or another for this reason. If they were doomed, she hoped her partner was the forgiving type. Having someone angry at her was one of the things that Gabrielle cared about since it gave off such a bad karma vibe.

She didn’t have long to dwell on such matters, however, for next came Alice. While the professor might have made a face over the state of the cauldron, Gabrielle was in absolute love with it. The cauldron was oozing with character. It was the type of cauldron that she would have displayed as a piece in her room rather than to use it for potions. Alice was above potion use. She was art. If she thought she stood a chance, she would have made an attempt to negotiate it from the professor, but knew it was probably a lost cause. She only hoped that at some point, her cauldron would have as much personality. She wondered if she should throw it down the stairs or maybe out a window. It was certainly a thought. She wasn’t sure the Headmaster would be too happy if she did that however. She wondered if she could a hammer from the groundskeeper. That might be all right to do. Yes, she would have to ask.

Oh, what were they doing now? She had gotten lost. Cards? She reached her hand under the desk, but felt nothing. She glanced over to the person sitting next to her for the first time. They had a card in their hand. Catching their eye, she gave a quick smile, before shifting her attention back to the professor with a frown. Having someone appear like a complete idiot didn’t sound like a very nice potion at all. Though, she supposed if the person didn’t mind, it could be funny. If it were her, she would sing a silly song like the professor did, and then find out from someone how it came out. The very idea had her hoping that it really would be them that had the correct potion and also that her partner was skilled at making them.

Taking the elastic off her wrist, she gathered her brown curls into a messy bun. Having grown up around fires, she had been taught well to always make sure that her hair was pulled back and she has no loose articles of clothing. She pulled up the sleeves of her robes and knotted any excess material. She bit her lip when she looked down at her right arm. The insulin shot had been rather tricky yesterday and didn’t want to go in, so she had ended up with a nasty looking bruise. She normally wasn’t given to appearances, but the bruising always reminded of her vulnerability. She hated it. Oh, well. She gave a light sigh. There wasn’t really much she could do. Safety came first. Having finished with everything, she turned to her partner with another grin. “Hi. My name is Gabrielle and I’m a walking potions disaster waiting to happen,” she jested with the truth.

0 Gabrielle DiCarlo Step One: Have me in your class 85 Gabrielle DiCarlo 0 5

Oliver Abbott

November 25, 2008 8:50 AM

You're telling me by Oliver Abbott

Oliver endured the start-of-class lecture gazing in open-mouthed astonishment at the new potions professor. He hadn't paid any attention to that at all during the feast, and so the new professor was quite a shock. But even if he had seen the man's unusual appearance before, Oliver couldn't have been prepared for the random singing or bizarre approach to potion-making. He actually wanted them to make the wrong potion. How would that help them to pass exams? Oliver was baffled.

"I hate my life," said a muffled voice at his elbow. Oliver turned to discern his owner and was surprised to discover Lutece; he must have been too distracted by the professor to even notice.

"Oh, it could be worse," he said cheerfully. "You could have mine." You could be stuck working with someone who ruins potions, he thought, though another internal voice told him that was a very long time ago. In fact, as Oliver pulled the card from the desk to glace over the ingredients, he remembered that, considering the assignment, that small fact probably didn't even matter. "You want to give this potions partner thing another try?" he asked, not even sure what her answer might be.

0 Oliver Abbott You're telling me 99 Oliver Abbott 0 5

Elly Eriksson

November 25, 2008 9:17 AM

Step Two: Have me as your partner by Elly Eriksson

The new potions professor was anticipated with trepidation. Elly loved Professor Connell, and still really missed her (which was weird, because normally Elly wasn't fussed with teachers either way). The sub at the end of last year had been kind of interesting, and now Elly was eager to meet her new permanent professor. Potions was her favourite class - not to mention the one she was least worried about failing in her exams at the end of the year - so it was important she liked her professor.

The verdict? She immediately adored Professor Schmidt. He was querky, weird, obviously had some experience with potion-making and he was singing. Elly loved him. Once he bowed at the end of his little ditty, she braved his judgement by calling out, "Well sung, sir!"

Elly had taken a seat next to a girl she didn't know. She had noticed at the feast that there were a huge amount of transfers to Sonora this year - she'd heard another school somewhere had closed down, so that would explain the sudden influx. Elly wanted to make sure the new students felt as welcome at their new school as possible, so when her partner greeted her, Elly turned to her with one of her trademark manic smiles.

"I'm Elly," she said, "and I'll do my best to prevent any major disasters." Still grinning, Elly placed the card she'd already retrieved down in front of Gabrielle so her partner could view it while she tied back he own manic orange curls into a hair elastic.

"So you're new here," she stated the obvious. "What House and year are you in?"

0 Elly Eriksson Step Two: Have me as your partner 92 Elly Eriksson 0 5

Hannah Laurent

November 25, 2008 2:20 PM

Wishing to be anywhere else by Hannah Laurent

Hannah was not the type to give much mind to a person’s general appearance. However walking into the Potions classroom, she had to fight to keep anything near resembling a smile on her face upon seeing the new Potions professor. As such, her lips developed a sort of twitching of the corners moving from a down to an up and back down position. She only hoped by some point soon, she would get used to the man that was to be her professor for presumably her next four years of schooling, assuming she didn’t drop Potions, which was a consideration, especially now.

In avoidance of the professor, Hannah opted for a seat more towards the back of the room. Otherwise, chances were rather than doing the assignment, she would pay more attention to the thing called an ear. In truth, with the way it hung there, she had the strangest urge to want to take a pair of scissors and snip it off, which was just wrong on so many levels. No, she could deal. She would just not look at the professor. She could listen to the lecture and work on her assignments. Granted, she would miss most of the actual demonstration, but it was a small sacrifice. Besides, maybe Oliver could tutor her again.

Thinking of Oliver, she got that same funny feeling in her stomach that she had last year, only more so. It was like having butterflies fluttering about, yet they were as big as elephants. She hadn’t felt anything like it with Sam. Not in the least. She glanced around the room to find him seated a couple seats back from where she was and with Lutece. She frowned as a feeling of disappointment came over her. That was new. She shouldn’t have been bothered that he was sitting with the other girl. There was no reason to be. They were House mates, teammates, probably friends. So, why did she feel like this?

She turned her attention back to the professor, because as much as she didn’t want to look at him, he provided a nice distraction to emotions that she didn’t quite understand only to be greeted with a sudden breakout of song. What in the world? She blinked n surprise and shock. She tried not to think badly of others, but it was apparent that he was insane, absolutely insane. And this was the person that was hired to be trusted with dangerous potions? As though to add to the fact, he began talking about his cauldron, Alice, and how someone shouldn’t use one like it, but he used it anyhow. Lovely. She would have felt safer with an eight-year old teaching than this person.

Reaching under the desk, she pulled out the card, and set it down so that she and her partner could look over it. “I hope we don’t have the correct potion,” she commented looking over the list. “So, where do you want to start? I can crush the rotten apple unless you’re dying to work with disgusting fruit.” She offered the person a smile to let them know that she was joking. She really didn’t mind though. Rotten fruit was much better than dealing with rotten fish, which had ended up occurring over the summer thanks to a new employee that hadn’t followed procedure. It had been utterly foul.

0 Hannah Laurent Wishing to be anywhere else 98 Hannah Laurent 0 5

Charles Schmidt

November 25, 2008 7:42 PM

The five second rule as it applies to potions by Charles Schmidt

Well, that was certainly interesting. The last time he'd seen an apprentice run like that it was because of an overzealous batch of cattle growth potion that had splattered on the his cat Horus. Horus was never quite the same after that experience. And neither was the apprentice. But that was beside the point; it was his first day and he'd already lost one of his students.

Charles stood staring at the classroom door left ajar by the girl's abrupt exit. Should he run after her? If he did, what would he do if he actually found her? Certainly neither an expert on the inexplicable ways of teenagers or by any means the school counselor, Charles decided against this. Plus, who knew what the rest of them would get up to in his absence. It certainly did not look good for a student to leave class the first day, however; it would look even worse if they started something along the lines of a potions ingredient fight while he was gone and he had to take the whole hoard of them down to the hospital wing. So, the ultimate question was, what should be done about this? What would Manfred Bulla do? That was an even more important question here, particularly as Charles very much needed this job.

Without much of a choice, Charles walked over to the student's desk hoping to find something that would clue him in on her identity. Instead, his eyes were drawn to a spill on the floor. Bending over, he touched his finger to the liquid surrounded by little shards of glass. He brought his finger to his tongue, closed his mouth, and let the flavor of the mysterious potion roll around a bit. His eyebrows rose in surprise as he recognized this particular one.

Was that...calming drought?

What in Merlin's name was a student doing with calming drought?

Even better. He not only had a potions class runaway on his hands, but also another potential problem. Why had he come over here??? This left him without any other options. Turning around, he strode back to his desk and shuffled through the scattered parchment in search of a clean sheet. He would have to make contact, much to his own disinclination. Determining her identity would be the easy part. Assuming, of course, he could locate his class roll. Charles yanked open the drawer of his desk, releasing rolls and rolls of parchment he had stuffed away for safety.

0 Charles Schmidt The five second rule as it applies to potions 0 Charles Schmidt 0 5

Eavan Valentine

November 26, 2008 1:53 AM

Wishing the new professor was anywhere else by Eavan Valentine

Professor Schmidt was certainly a sight. As soo as Eavan entered the classroom, her attention had been fully focused on him. How his hair looked to be several lengths and several different colors and how there was something...off about his face. Lopsided maybe, but that could've just been his hair playing tricks on her.

Still staring at the new professor, Eavan grabbed her potions kit and a pen and parchment to take notes. She felt the groan escape her lips as he mentioned the word 'review'. Not that she didn't need it, but it always felt like it was a waste of time to go over something that she already did. Like she was walking in circles. And this professor clearly acted as though that's how his brain worked. Did he just refer to his cauldron as Alice?

“I hope we don’t have the correct potion,”

Eavan turned to the voice next to her. If she wasn't mistaken, it was Hannah. Same house, but a year younger. Eavan checked the list. "You can have the apples. I can deal with armadillo bile." Eavan grinned. She'd never been a fan of most of the ingredients, but as long as nothing was alive and she didn't have to actually stick her hand in the bile, Eavan was okay.

"I just want to know what the correct potion does. And if ours is wrong, what happens? Does it just do nothing?" Eavan pondered this aloud as she prodded the underside of the cauldron, trying to light the fire.

0 Eavan Valentine Wishing the new professor was anywhere else 86 Eavan Valentine 0 5

Lutece

November 26, 2008 9:08 AM

I do tell you plenty of things, don't I? by Lutece

ohmigosh! Lutece bolted up as soon as she heard Oliver's voice next to her. She totally hadn't even noticed him there. How totally bizarre was that? It was like her thinking had magically conjured him up or something. Except that she was almost positive that you couldn't actually do that with magic, and that even if you could it would take a genius like Zack Dill or a nutcase like the Pecari kids who'd graduated last year to even try that one. Plus, you'd have to have a wand, and Lutece's was stuffed all the way at the bottom of her killer-retro bag that she'd gotten off e-bay over the summer, all mind-numbing floral patterns and quilted fabric. It was adorable and a definite improvement on her A&E bag, which had definitely broken last year halfway through Charms one day.

"Oh, it could be worse, you could have mine," Oliver said, and Lutece shot a skeptical blue-green gaze over at him. Was that an allusion to that first, awful Potions lesson they'd had together? They hadn't partnered since anyway. But on the other hand, she also knew that his sister was a first year this year. Was he as stressed out about Charlie as she was about James? Or it could be something completely different. Or she could be completely overanalysing. Euegh. Boys! Why did they have to be so...so cryptic all the time?

"Sure!" Lutece said enthusiastically when Oliver suggested that they be partners again. She felt her heart speed up a little bit, and knew that she was flushing a little bit. Even with the glasses, Oliver was just so adorable! They would be completely perfect together. And really, all she had to do was make him see that.

Oh, and get him to ask her out of course. She couldn't ask him out, that wouldn't be right.

"Right, so what do you want me to do? As long as it doesn't have to do with lighting fires, touching dead things, or getting anywhere near MoldMan over there, I'm good," Lutece sent another skeptical look towards the professor. Potions was such a horrible class.

0 Lutece I do tell you plenty of things, don't I? 0 Lutece 0 5

Grayson Wright

November 26, 2008 5:39 PM

Accidents are what I try to avoid. by Grayson Wright

Gray walked into the Potions classroom, nodded back to the new Potions professor, and only then took in what said new professor looked like.

For a moment, Gray looked like a picture of the astounded adolescent male. Then, recovering his manners, he flashed the wizard a smile and hurried to a table right up front, the better to observe the gentleman as he dug his journal out of his bag and, devoutly happy he'd brought it along, began making precise notes on his appearance.

He had, or was told he had, an extremely vivid imagination, but Gray doubted he could have ever come up with someone of Professor Schmidt's uniqueness, and he felt it was his duty as a writer to record him for posterity. If, by some stroke of luck, he managed to die famous, people would probably be very interested in his journals, and maybe in a century the literary world could debate whether or not he'd made up his newest teacher (and whether or not he'd been on drugs as he did, but he'd be too busy being dead to care). As he wrote, he also tried to figure out how to fit someone like the new professor into a story without being too obvious; Gray kept his stories-book with him at all times, but there was still a chance it would somehow end up in someone else's hands in his lifetime, and he had to be careful using real people in his stories for that reason.

All too soon, however, he was forced to close his journal, put it away, and take out his notes-book for the beginning of class. This was unfortunate, as Professor Schmidt had a few more noteworthy features and quirks appear as he spoke about potions safety and sang a little ditty, the words of which made no sense to Gray but seemed to amuse some other students. When Professor Schmidt revealed his cauldron had a name, though, Gray scrawled that across the very top bit of his note page for the class. That was too good to allow himself to forget.

The only 'value' he could see in a potion to make a person sound like a babbling idiot was a nefarious scheme to have someone he didn't like locked up as a crazy person, but as that would only last for a little while, he couldn't see a point to doing it that way. He guessed 'value' meant 'only one that doesn't make you a little sick', since one with a propensity to make people very sick probably wouldn't make it past the Headmaster and other important people mixed up with the school. As he retrieved the card from beneath the table, he wasn't sure if he wanted to have the correct one or not.

"Armadillo bile," he read aloud. "Sneezewort, ginger roots, doxy eggs, fluxweed." He looked up at his partner. "Do you, uh, think we got the real one or a fake?" He wasn't totally sure, which was why he wasn't saying anything, but he had a feeling doxies were poisonous.

16 Grayson Wright Accidents are what I try to avoid. 113 Grayson Wright 0 5

Helena Layne

November 26, 2008 10:35 PM

This is...different. by Helena Layne

All things considered, Helena wasn't sure Professor Schmidt was the best person to be teaching Potions Safety.

Everything he said made perfect sense and matched up with a list of potions safety guidelines printed inside the covers of her textbook, but the fact remained that he'd implied he had attained his...notable appearance while working. She refused to believe anyone could do something that awful to himself if he obeyed correct procedure. Her judgment was no doubt clouded by her liking for rules, and made worse by her profound desire to never see her cauldron-happy brother look like the professor, but knowing that didn't so much as shake her belief in that matter.

The assignment also caused her a moment of alarm. They were making a potion that was either wrong (and she'd lived with Geoff long enough to know that when a potion went wrong, it was a fool who didn't either fix it fast or clear out still faster) or that made them look like idiots. In front of the whole three-year class.

...Headmaster Bulla had to be insane. It was the only half-logical explanation. There couldn't have been such a severe teacher shortage as to require the hiring of someone who cheerfully doomed them all to public humiliation before he got all that far into his first day.

She tried to be sensible about it. The worst-case scenario was that she dropped the class, and the best case was that she'd come to like the odd wizard. She'd seen a handful of stranger things. Until - and, for that matter, after - she gathered enough information to make that judgment, she had to focus on passing the class. With that thought held very firmly in mind, Helena turned to her table-mate.

"Do you have the notecard?" she asked. "I'm pretty sure I have everything up there except rotten apple and doxy egg in my kit, and we can use my cauldron if you want."

16 Helena Layne This is...different. 88 Helena Layne 0 5

Gabrielle

November 27, 2008 12:28 AM

Step Three: Be without a clue by Gabrielle

Gabrielle took an instant liking to the girl next to her. How could she not? She had a crazy contagious smile and didn’t seem too concerned that Gabrielle was terrible when it came to potions. Not to mention, she had a sense of humor. She found it to be awful when a person had no sense of humor. It was like the person stopped living and became a walking corpse. Often, their auras were darkened with the weight of that sort of life. It was dreadful, more than really, but she had yet to meet anyone like that here. Although, she hadn’t actually met that many people just her roommates and the girl beside her. “Teppenpaw, fifth year,” she answered. “I don’t really know much about the different houses since they’re all different from my last school. What about you?”

Regardless of not knowing much about Sonora yet, she had determined one thing. She absolutely loved it. How could she not? Eavan and Amber were great. The Potions professor was awesome even if she was destined to fail the subject. Then, there was her partner for the class. She had no idea what great karma allowance she had built up, but she wasn’t about to complain. Life was more than good and she hoped to continue riding those bright waves. Maybe if they were really fortunate, they would even get through this class with no major catastrophes. That would be a new one for her, but then she had never actually had a class where they were intentionally making a potion that might be different from the one intended. It was possible that this concept might actually help her quite a bit, oddly enough, but then she tended to be a bit odd.

She glanced over the list of ingredients. It appeared that they would be using Doxy eggs. A frown of concern marred her pretty features. She usually didn’t mind using creature ingredients, because they were serving a purpose. She had been raised that one should never be wasteful, because it was a gift, a sacrifice. It seemed wasteful to be using them to make a wrong potion, but she supposed it wasn’t wasteful if they were learning. It was the only way she could justify doing so. “I have the Doxy eggs. Do you want to use my cauldron or yours? I don’t know how mine will act since I just got a new one,” she said. She had no idea what had happened to hers. It seemed to have disappeared. Maybe she had left it at the old school. It was a shame to cause she thought she had a good start on making it look like Alice.

Once they set to work and Gabrielle had mentally thanked Doxies for the eggs, something she did every time, she began conversation, “Who are some of the other people in the class?” She was curious to find out who everyone was, but then she was naturally curious when it came to people. She wanted to know everything about them, what they thought, how they felt, what made them tick. She wanted to bring that out, capture it forever on paper, which maybe some would find strange, but there was something about bringing forth the purity of emotion that fascinated her. It was also something that she was still learning to do. She still considered herself new to the animate, but even after years, she didn’t doubt it would always provide a challenge.

0 Gabrielle Step Three: Be without a clue 85 Gabrielle 0 5

Lucas Smythe

November 28, 2008 5:18 PM

Where's the fun in that? by Lucas Smythe

Lucas raised his brow upon entering the classroom, a little later than he ought to have done, and found a spare seat, shaking his head on the way. The professor looked simply bizarre – it made Lucas very glad that he’d had his hair cut during the holidays and no longer had a fringe with a tendency to sweep in every now and then and take over his entire face. He gently ignore the man’s introduction and wondered slightly if the guy ever washed; it looked like his hair was growing new hair of its own, in a mouldy sense.

Noticing that the boy next to him was avidly taking notes of some description, Lucas figured he’d better do something along those lines too, so pulled out a scrap of rumpled parchment from his bag, along with his pencil. Even now he was a fourth year student, Lucas still preferred the simple led or charcoal to the hand-staining mess of a quill and ink. His green eyes flicked up as he heard the professor singing, and he did a double take at the sight of the man’s earlobe, which could have easily given an elephant’s a run for its money. Utterly bizarre. Still, notes had to be made – especially now there was something to take notes about as the professor has written on the board – so Lucas ignored the weird man and wrote himself a few notes.

As he did so, Lucas ran his hand through his now short light brown hair, wondering if he looked more grown-up this way or if the new style just accentuated his rather round face and childlike features. At least he’d gotten a little taller and was about the same height as his fellow fourth year lads, as opposed to last year when he was definitely shorter than most.

While writing, Lucas smirked a little as Professor Schmidt called his cauldron by the name ‘Alice’ and wondered if he ought to make a note of that too, or better yet, somehow ask the professor a question about Alice in jest while keeping a perfectly serious face... Or not. Lucas would just keep his amusement to himself until he later met up with his younger sister, Dana, to tell her the story as he knew she’d appreciate it.

“When the proper concoction is ingested, the drinker will appear like a complete idiot to everyone but him or herself. They will be saying one thing, but everyone else will hear something entirely different and completely ridiculous.”

This made Lucas concentrate – what a fantastic prank to play on his cousins! While he knew it would be terrible and he’d be sure to get in a large amount of trouble from his father and uncle, surely it would be worth it some time... assuming the results aren’t permanent, of course.

‘Well of course they’re not permanent,’ Lucas thought to himself, rolling his eyes, ‘otherwise we wouldn’t be doing it in class. Dur.’ He felt he could be more than just a little slow at times.

It seemed that it was time to get down to business, so he turned to his partner with one of his usual friendly half-smiles. It was a boy that Lucas didn’t really recognise, but he didn’t look or seem too bad yet. After hearing that the recipes were on the underside of the tables – another thing that Lucas found to be strange on the professor’s part – the boy reached down to get it, before reeling off the list of ingredients to Lucas.

“Do you think we got the real one or a fake?”

Lucas shrugged his reply to the boy and wondered more important things from the person he was to be working with this lesson. “I dunno... I’m not exactly brilliant at potions. How about you; you any good?” He was hoping for an answer in the affirmative, but a negative would do too. After all, a pair who knew nothing could probably have some laughs. “Oh,” Lucas remembered an important detail, “my name’s Lucas. What’s yours?”

0 Lucas Smythe Where's the fun in that? 96 Lucas Smythe 0 5

Gray

November 28, 2008 9:25 PM

The part where I have enough limbs to have fun with later. by Gray

Gray considered the question of his Potions expertise. He'd never really considered whether or not he was good with his cauldron; Potions was one of the classes he'd never thought much about at all. He went in, he sat down, he did whatever he was told, he did his homework, and then went and found a more amusing activity to participate in. All his grades had been good enough, but it was hard to say if that was mostly because of his ability to write a good essay or not.

Since being the best writer in the world - which he was, by anyone's standards, most definitely not - would have been insufficient had he had no practical skill, though, he nodded. "I'm, uh, okay with it," he offered. "Not good, not bad." As far as he was concerned, the implications of 'not-exactly-brilliant' and 'okay'-ness raised the stakes of who was going to have to drink whatever they came up with. Gray didn't want it to be him, but the feeling that a very large something was sinking in his stomach made him think that it would be.

"Gray," he said when asked his name. He wasn't really a fan of his proper name; it felt awkward to pronounce, a foot or so too long for him, and very old and formal. "Nice to meet you." He didn't really know if meeting Lucas was nice or if it wasn't, but his mother had drilled that into him as what he should say when introduced to someone.

He set his cauldron up and lit the fire with his wand, more than happy to see the spell work properly. If he had a weak subject, it was Charms. He had to work hard to do in Charms what he could do easily in other classes, though he was, as he'd not been entirely surprised to note, better in general with the writing-heavy subjects. "You, uh, got any fluxweed in your kit?" he asked. "I think I'm running low on that."

16 Gray The part where I have enough limbs to have fun with later. 113 Gray 0 5

Paul Tarwater

November 29, 2008 2:27 AM

Accidents aren't the best way to start by Paul Tarwater

Paul was glad about his hair being short now, don't get him wrong. But still, it felt weird now, to walk into a class and not have the long black hair to hide his hair behind. Of course, that hair always made him feel in the spotlight, but at least he couldn't see anyone looking at him before. Now, walking into the classroom, Paul's paranoia took over and every glance his way seemed like a glare, a what are you doing here. Probably everyone knew about that... badge, the Prefect badge that he hid unless he needed it (which would hopefully be never or at least not often), and it was something he knew shouldn't be his.

Paul had to brush it all off, a whatever walking into the Potions class. Trying to sit down and breathe, and act like when he looked around the room for the first few minutes. And it only lasted a few minutes, because he unfortunately ended up catching the eyes of his sister, the girl raising her head with a superior grin. Quickly he snapped his face to the front, his mouth open midway between disbelief and scream (he put it off as a yawn). A new professor showed his face, and Paul took to looking completely interested in the man.

This wasn't hard. The idea of review was certainly nothing Paul was worried about, it almost bored him and the boy pulled out his notebook without a care. He awaited to write down the ingredients, but then, the professor, twitched a few then started to sing a little ditty. Eyes wide, Paul blinked back and the mouth he just closed opened again in pure surprise. No more worrying about being in the spotlight here, the professor held that very well. Paul couldn't even imagine glares burning in his back now, they were all directed towards this... very strange man. Eyes flicking to the ingredients only briefly, Paul shook his head trying to rid his brain of that sight. Without really wanting to, he started to scratch out the ingredients in small shaky writing.

But Paul's mind kept drifting to the Professor, and his eye did too. His mind filled with pointless questions. What? Seriously? Are you serious? He was a nut, and that twitch well (Paul actually kind of thought it was interestin but...) that just added to the look. It was better to just look into his cauldron, hide in it to be exact. Of course, looking at his cauldron while listening to the Professor Nut was just something that made him feel bad. He had pulled out a beat-up dirty cauldron similar to Paul's own, and went though the speech of taking care of these things. Now, Paul felt as though he should be hiding his cauldron, and not the other way around. Discomfort rose in his gut as he listened on, glad to be away from the subject of cauldron care.

He didn't write down a single note of that, and instead filled that empty space with "don't hover over the cauldron" (in a greater amount of words). Being told there was a card under his desk, Paul dropped his quill and his hand smacked under. Sure enough, card. He felt like, honestly, slamming his head into the desk. Making the actual potion shouldn't be difficult, but the ingesting it part? He was considered mean, cold, kind of snobbish maybe. But to sound like an idiot babbling would be the worst, especially in a class with Cissy. Paul sank in his seat at another word that nut had said.

Partners.

And only one ingested the stupid potion. He would probably be the one to do it anyway, what if somehow they did it wrong and he ended up drinking poison. He did not need another trip to the hospital, where all those crazy healers fed him potions for his physical health and the know-nothing counselors bothered over his social and mental health. Paul flicked his eyes noticing that one girl had left. Should he... no, he had already stated he wouldn't skip anymore. Though the thought was terribly appealing. Instead, Paul read the instructions silently, not bothering to look towards his parner. Instead, he was stuck in his head, where the Professor was just another indication of the end of the world. "I guess... get this over with," he muttered, his eyes flicking to the side to address his partner.

0 Paul Tarwater Accidents aren't the best way to start 0 Paul Tarwater 0 5

Lucie Dupree

November 29, 2008 3:25 AM

They can be terrible amounts of fun. by Lucie Dupree

Upon seeing the Potions professor, Lucie, even with all of her etiquette training, was unable to hold a smile on her face. Rather than making some horrible face that could quite possibly lower her grade in the class if the new professor scored on a bias, she turned her attention to the students that were already seated. Blue eyes scoured the room. She was on a mission. She had been on one ever since summer when she had found out about her sister’s new arrangement. Logical first step was the acquiring of information on the person. She had done this with Emeric as well, which had been a lot harder. This was going to be as easy as pie, especially when she locked onto her target.

Paul Tarwater. She didn’t actually know him, but more of him. She knew he was the creepy kid that was sometimes in classes when the younger years were joined with older years. She knew that he played Quidditch. That was the whole knowing your opponent and all since she had played last year. And most importantly, she had seen him around Danae. This latter fact would prove to be the most valuable despite not wanting him to be around her sister. It would give her common ground for the real reason that she was currently sliding into a seat beside him. She placed her bag underneath her seat aside from the necessary materials and attempted to ignore the professor, as it seemed her partner was doing.

This became quite difficult upon the sudden breakout of song and caused Lucie to develop a twitch of her own. The tips of her lips so desperately wanted to curve into a smile, but her eyes forbade them from doing so. She was torn between the professor’s grotesque appearance and his absolutely lovely personality. Oh, which one, which one? She hated to admit that there was ever a contest in her head, because deep down, she knew that what was on the inside was supposed to be more important. How many of her books said as much? Her head tilted with her decision. He was sort of like the stray cat that no one wanted and that had been left for dead, but still it had its own characteristic charm.

After the rules and further oddities, they were allowed to begin and Lucie finally had the other stray cat taking notice, if only for a moment. Her features formed into a small frown. “Instead of getting it over with, we could make it fun,” she suggested. Often, she made up stories to go along with her class work. It helped not only in making the time seem less dull, but also in making the material easier to remember. “We could pretend that we have to discover the antidote to some poison that this rich guy’s daughter was given and if we do, he’s going to reward us handsomely, but if we don’t, he’s going to hurt us.” An excited look crossed her face, as she was already imagining the scene.

0 Lucie Dupree They can be terrible amounts of fun. 114 Lucie Dupree 0 5

Paul

November 29, 2008 4:15 AM

Or... just terrible. by Paul

Paul's eyes flicked to the girl next to him only briefly because his partner never mattered much to him unless he knew the person personally, but looking at her caused Paul to doubletake as well as having his own blue eyes widen in surprise. Oh, so that was what was going to go wrong in his life today. Lucie Dupree. As in the blonde girl who was not only a Chaser on the Teppenpaw team but more importantly the little sister to his best friend (and probably his only friend), Danae Dupree. He had a feeling that the girl disapproved of him, which Paul supposed he should be used to by now (everyone disapproved of him, and probably for good reason). Stuck in a partnership with a disapproving little blonde girl. In a class with Professor Nut (period, nothing more needed to be said). Having to work with a potion that involved rotten apples to make you talk like an idiot. Well then, this should end up being the greatest class of his whole entire fifteen years of life!

He should have run when he had the chance.

That had really been the best option for Paul. Especially when Lucie mentioned something about pretending some rich guy was going to hurt them if they didn't find an antidote for his daughter or whatever. While the idea of being rewarded handsomely caused something tiny inside of him to perk up (whenever the idea of money came into place that same part warmed), Paul started to wonder what was going wrong with his life. Sure, being the mean and unsocial freak that no one wanted to talk to wasn't the greatest way to spend one's life but it had worked out for Paul in the past. He'd read, talk to his cat sometimes (adding to the criminal-creep idea that the yearbook proved), get a couple people to hate him, allow his equally creepy sister to experiment her creepier spells on (that wasn't the best part), and pretty much be left alone.

He had to wonder if, before this class, Miss Dupree and Professor Nut stood around a cup of coffee and discussed how they were going to make Paul Tarwater lose more of his mind today. Paul rubbed his fingers over the card with his eyebrows raised, wondering whether he should humor the sister of his friend or go back to being the jerk. "And this antidote includes one of us testing it and it turning that person into a babbling idiot?" Paul deadpanned, how did that make sense. "What, did we fail? So that now, as well as one of us being stuck stupid or perhaps even poisoned that rich man is going to place us on a secluded island to hunt, or you know, just stick us in a cage with his pet Basilisk?" The dryness of his voice proved that he was going with jerk, because it was just easier. His eyes had been skimming the card, except for a few brief glances upward and around to check if anyone (other than the girl) was looking at him at all.

Somehow, it felt good to use his otherwise unused and rusty voice again, especially for the dry statements that made him sound "normal". Something pinged in his mind, reminding him of the badge he hoped the world would forget about giving him, and that annoying part of his mind asking Is this what a Prefect should be doing? The answer, of course, was no. And that annoying part of his mind itched at his brain, making droplets of guilt boil and cloud his mind with unnecessary (and guilty) fog. A blow of air from his mouth didn't help and Paul raised his eyebrow to Lucie. "Would this rich man happen to keep rotten apples around anywhere?" he asked, pointing out only one item on the list, sounding only slightly like he was going to drop his face and play. Maybe.

0 Paul Or... just terrible. 0 Paul 0 5

Meredith Lail

November 29, 2008 4:06 PM

Different in a totally cool way. by Meredith Lail

Saying Potions wasn’t a strong suit of Meredith’s was an understatement. Class in general wasn’t her area of expertise, but she made do. It always helped to have friends in her classes that could help her and it certainly didn’t hurt to have an interesting professor.

That was what she got with the new Potions professor. Just on appearance alone Mere anticipated something interesting to come of the lesson and when he began singing a strange song she had never heard before she found herself that much more curious about the man since the lyrics were eerily fitting. Maybe he made it up himself. She was slightly let down at the thought of simply reviewing some obvious things like don’t stick your head in the cauldron with the potion.

Clearly Professor Schmidt hadn’t followed his own rules at some point and either couldn’t or didn’t care to fix himself.

Well the tedious review didn’t last long because the professor seemed more eager to watch them make fools of themselves by following whatever instructions were on the cards beneath their desks. Mere reached under and took the card, glancing briefly at the ingredients on the list and the directions for preparing them. It didn’t look horribly complicated. She wondered if that meant she and her partner hadn’t gotten the babbling potion. She half hoped it was the right one and that she made it correctly because the idea of what it would do sounded humorous enough.

When addressed, Mere looked at Helena. She hadn’t worked with her in a long time, which was too bad because she was a nice girl. She nodded as she held the card up. “Sounds good. The card is right here. Looks like we lucked out on rotten apples, but we are going to need the doxy eggs.” She looked at the list once more with a grin. “I guess this is one way to make a name for yourself as a new professor, huh?”

0 Meredith Lail Different in a totally cool way. 0 Meredith Lail 0 5

Amber Carey

November 29, 2008 8:49 PM

I'm pretty good at causing accidents already. by Amber Carey

She'd attended hundreds of class sessions in a wide variety of subjects, but Amber felt they were really just the parts of a great Lesson: never be surprised by magic.

She'd believed she had learned it well, but her first sight of her new Potions professor made her think she still had a few things left to learn. Professor Schmidt was a surprise, or rather, his appearance was, and there was no way that he had come to look like that any way except magic. The little line about not all magic being good took on more immediate, if not quite the intended, meaning.

Since the lesson was stated as a review of Potions safety, Amber was mildly surprised to hear they were going to make a potion without the rules Professor Schmidt hoped none of them would break all being explained to them. Amusement at hearing a rhyming song she hadn't heard since before she'd found out she was a witch aside, the point of the original lecture made her feel there was a new pressure on them all to succeed. It wasn't usual to ingest their usually inexpertly-made potions.

Well, the school couldn't kill them, and they had Professor Schmidt, who had almost certainly received training in just what to do if someone was poisoned, present if someone made a really big mistake, so better to just get on with it. She turned to the person sharing her two-seated desk. "Hope you aren't as bad at Potions as I am," she said with a smile.

0 Amber Carey I'm pretty good at causing accidents already. 84 Amber Carey 0 5

Thomas Fitzgerald

November 29, 2008 11:15 PM

That could be bad in this class. by Thomas Fitzgerald

An advantage and a disadvantage of Potions was the Sonora-wide practice of allowing everyone to sit anywhere that it pleased them to sit. It meant no one necessarily had to be next to someone he or she despised, but it also meant that who sat where could amount to a political issue. Since his grandfather had, to the delight of Nana Anne and maybe two of their kids, won the gubernatorial election, Thomas felt he'd had enough of politics and usually sat with people in other years where possible to avoid them.

This time, the person in question was an older girl. Since he had no idea who she was, he thought that she was a good choice. Unremarkable people like himself were much easier, as a rule, to get along with than flamboyant ones like his yearmates. He wasn't sure that 'flamboyant' was quite what he wanted to call Grayson, but it would do, and he thought it fit Chelsea perfectly.

As the lesson began, Thomas tried very hard to continue his policy of not thinking about the new teacher's looks and the probable reasons for them, but it became impossible after Professor Schmidt started to sing the little song 'Do Your Ears Hang Low' while displaying his own, which did. He had to be in his right mind - schools didn't hire nutjobs - but he was certainly the most...unique member of the staff, at least based on how he presented himself in class.

After a little re-introduction to basic Potions safety, the class was set to making potions. Thomas wasn't sure he much liked the plan. Every potion had an affect on whoever drank it, and if his was not only a wrong one but an ill-prepared one, he thought the affect was likely to be unpleasant. The idea of unpleasantness did not appeal.

His partner, officially known as Blond Girl, turned to him. He raised his eyebrows at her question. "Depends," he said, smiling back at her. "How good are you at Potions?" Since a rhetorical question didn't really require an answer and the one he'd given hers had been a bit of a joke, he decided to go ahead to the introduction part. "I'm Thomas, third year, Aladren." That, he thought, was enough. No need to play the surname game.

0 Thomas Fitzgerald That could be bad in this class. 109 Thomas Fitzgerald 0 5

Hannah

November 30, 2008 1:16 AM

Wishing the ingredients were anywhere else by Hannah

“Deal,” Hannah said. She wasn’t fond of the idea of touching the armadillo bile. The very word, armadillo bile, in and of itself, sounded utterly disgusting. Potions was almost, if not at, the bottom of her list in terms of enjoyable classes. The only reason she managed a decent grade at all was due to outside class work. If she had to depend solely on making the potion, she would be completely up a creek without a paddle, though, maybe she would at least have a chopstick to at least have a hope of not hitting all of the rocks.

Before she could start on the apples, Eavan asked a couple questions in regards to the Potions. This was the part that she could actually succeed at. Hannah checked over her notes, which would probably be unreadable by the end of the period, because of bits of ingredients splattering on them. “Um, the correct potion causes the drinker’s words to not be understood. It comes out as insensible and makes the person appear like an idiot.” She frowned at the second question. “I’m not sure what happens if it’s wrong, aside from it not producing that effect. Maybe it’ll just do nothing.” She shrugged slightly. The only way to find out by this point was to make the potion.

She began to work on the apples. It called for a half cup’s worth of essentially rotten apple sauce. She cut up a few and using the mortar and pestle began to make it into a liquid like ingredient. Once she had enough measured out, she put it to the side. They didn’t have to add it until three turns after the armadillo bile. She glanced over to Eavan. “How’s it coming along? When you finish, do you want to take the ginger roots and I’ll take the fluxweed?” She didn’t really care which one she took, but the fluxweed reminded her of working with some of the ingredients in the restaurant so it was fairly familiar territory.

It was actually sort of funny that she did so poorly in Potions given that her family owned a restaurant and she helped out sometimes. Not with anything dangerous, of course. But still, working with the ingredients for Potions was sort of like working with the ones for cooking, so she should have been better at it. Though, Potions was more in the baking realm with its exact measures, so she guessed it was more like baking, which would explain a lot. She had tried making a cake over the summer and it had turned out completely flat. While she had been disappointed, she couldn’t help laughing over it and they ended up playing Frisbee with it.
\r\n\r\n

0 Hannah Wishing the ingredients were anywhere else 0 Hannah 0 5

Annabelle Winslow

November 30, 2008 4:05 AM

Stay down, breakfast, stay down by Annabelle Winslow

One quality one needed for Potions was a strong stomach to deal with dead animal parts and bad smells. This was,unfortunately, something Annabelle had never possessed and Potions ranked at the direct bottom of her favorite classes. She hadn't liked it at Salem, she didn't expect to like it here at Sonora.

So when Annabelle saw Professor Schmidt's appearance, she nearly lost it-as in anything she had eaten since transferring and she didn't even know what ingredients she'd have to use yet or what the potion would smell like or anything. His hair was part mold . Mold was one of those textures that just made her...gag. Annabelle knew it was rude to feel like wretching at someone's appearance. It had nothing to do with being a proper member of society either. If that was the case, it would no longer matter what she did since the damage was done, but it was just plain mean . She wouldn't want to be judged by hers even though the only thing really wrong with hers was that she didn't look 15 and the only ones who would believe she was were the other transfers, the administration and possibly her roommate.

Annabelle clenched her eyes shut to keep from looking at him, but she knew she couldn't keep them that way forever. She opened them and glanced anxiously around the class. Not that it was any better to stare at her classmates but at least hopefully the sight of them wouldn't make her queasy. Annabelle noticed a lot of people looked similar to how she felt. One girl even left the room and Annabelle's heart went out to her.

As Professor Schmidt began the lesson, she tried to keep her mind on his words. The list of ingredients didn't help the waves of nausea that were still rising in Annabelle's belly, words like doxy and bile and rotten.

The words he spoke next got to Annabelle as well in a different way. Treat a cauldron like a sibling. She didn't have any siblings, not anymore. She had no family but her aunt and uncle and Jenna-a former student of her aunt's who made Professor Schmidt look down right sane in comparison. She wouldn't even have them if Aunt Emma did what their blood family wanted and not claim her as a relative either.

She turned to the person sitting next to her and offered a shy smile "Um, partners?" Annabelle sincerely hoped it was someone who would neither have a problem with her status in the pureblood world nor someone who would mind the fact that everything about this class made her ill.

11 Annabelle Winslow Stay down, breakfast, stay down 89 Annabelle Winslow 0 5

Oliver

November 30, 2008 11:32 AM

You are keen on sharing by Oliver

Oliver graced Lutece with an odd look as she agreed with such enthusiasm to work together. She was nowhere near as detestable as she once was, and maybe that was just because Oliver had gotten used to her, but he didn't think so, because he still found her entirely unpredictable. She even pretty much invited instruction as she asked what he wanted her to do. Oliver had no idea she could be so accommodating. Plus her nickname for the professor amused him, too.

"Well," he said vaguely, readjusting his glasses and scanning over their list of ingredients. There were no Doxy eggs, so the worst had been eliminated anyway. Bile was still pretty rough, and rotten apples couldn't be much fun. He was on the verge of offering these two to his partner, but instead Oliver found himself saying, "you could cut up the ginger, if you like. I've got some nice root, edible stuff."

What? He could understand being the gentleman and offering Lutece the nicer jobs - as hard as he tried, it still seemed to be embedded in his nature to be nice to girls. He blamed having a younger sister. But he hadn't meant to go on about his ginger root - that was something he'd only do with people who actually cared about potions. Lutece didn't care about potions, she only took the class because it was compulsory, Oliver was sure. She wouldn't give a damn about the quality of his ginger.

Rearranging his glasses and frowning more at himself than anything else, he said, "Do the fluxweed too. You can use mine if you don't have any. I'll just go and get the other stuff." That sounded much better.

0 Oliver You are keen on sharing 0 Oliver 0 5

Elly

November 30, 2008 12:21 PM

Hang on, new plan: How to succeed by Elly

"Oh, wicked," Elly replied with enthusiasm. "I'm fifth year, too. Pecari, but Teppenpaw is okay. I would have to offer my condolences if you were in Crotalus," she grinned. It was pretty much a joke - Elly had lots of friends in Crotalus - but it was still fun to uphold the traditional House rivalry. Gabrielle said she didn't know much about the houses. "Well I don't think the stereotypes apply that much," Elly said, "but Teppenpaw are supposed to be the nicest House. Friendly, loyal people, so you should be fine there. Eaven and Amber are your rommates, yeah? They're really nice," she said.

As her partner read over the ingredients, Elly did the same. "It's not the babbling potion he was on about," she said, "because that's definitely got ginger in, and there's no ginger on our list." She smiled at Gabrielle. "Ah, I'm not clever," she reassured her, "I just like potions. And, um, this one either makes you blink twice as often as usual, or gives you cramp in your right foot. They're pretty similar, so I'm not sure..." she trailed off, surprised that she had remembered this much. But then after four whole years of learning potions she supposed she was bound to remember something.

Gabrielle had the Doxy eggs; Elly had the plant matter, but not the bile or apples. Funnily enough, they weren't things she used that often. Summoning over the other ingredients (since she'd mastered the spell she couldn't resist showing it off), Elly arranged them on the desk. "Uh, let's use your cauldron if it's new," she suggested with a grin. "Break it in."

As they started to work, Elly said, "Hey, do you mind pouring out the bile? I wouldn't normally ask, but I'm not keen on... well, animal parts." It wasn't that she was opposed to using the parts as such, although she was vegetarian; rather, the fact that she was vegetarian meant she wasn't used to dealing with any sort of animal that wasn't alive, and now it made her squeamish.

As Elly started chopping the fluxweed, Gabrielle asked about others in the class. Elly cast her eyes around to remind herself of who was there. "Uh, well there's everyone in fifth, fourth and third years," she grinned. "That's Echo," she pointed to a boy with curly brown hair, "and Meredith" - a smaller, blonde girl - "they're my best friends." Looking around again, Elly thought maybe she should cover people that it might help the new girl to know. "That's Josh, the Crotalus prefect in our year," (she made sure it was Josh and not Matt) "and that's Paul Tarwater, the Aladren prefect." Elly left off that she didn't like Paul; Gabrielle could make up her own mind about people. \r\n\r\n

0 Elly Hang on, new plan: How to succeed 0 Elly 0 5

Lutece

November 30, 2008 12:43 PM

Sharing is caring! by Lutece

If Lutece had been interested in the corny, awful anime that Grace had started watching last year, she probably would have invented some bizarre-yet-oddly-connected-to-her internal self that would react appropriately in situations in which she had to keep her cool. This would be one of those times in which Internal Lutece would be jumping up and down, waving her Japanese-style animated arms. Possibly with eyes that looked like triangles and a mouth that was bigger than her face. But since Lutece thankfully did not watch Grace's disgusting anime, she was spared that internal vision.

That didn't mean that Oliver was any less adorable of course.

He was such a gentleman! Even though she'd totally ruined his potion the last time they were partners, he was willing to work with her, and give her his best ginger to work with! It made her so happy. Sort of like she maybe had a chance, maybe-hopefully? Lutece wasn't quite sure yet, but she was hopeful. One minute ginger root, the next minute a box of candy hearts on Valentine's Day. She hoped, anyway. That's the way it worked with geeky boys, or so Teen Witch said. Lutece had gotten a subscription to the magazine last year for her birthday from her dad, who totally got exactly what she was talking about with the magic thing, even though he was a Muggle himself. It was awesome, and the reporters at Teen Witch understood exactly what she was going through.

"Oooh, thank you!" the fourth year enthused, getting out her best knife from her potions kit, frowning slightly as she cleaned off the blade with a cloth. Lutece didn't want to muck up Oliver's ginger. He would probably hate her for even longer then.

The girl noticed Oliver frowning, and frowned a bit herself. What had she done? He seemed grumpy as he told her to do the fluxweed as well, then went off to get the other ingredients. It seemed to her that he walked in a slightly stormy way. Was it just Lutece? Or was he actually mad? She wished she had someone to talk to about these things. Boys could be so cryptic sometimes. She was thinking about writing into Teen Witch to get their advice. Or maybe writing to Liss, if she would understand (which Lutece wasn't wholly sure of).

Once Oliver came back, Lutece showed him the ginger she'd chopped thus far. "Is this okay?" she asked hesitantly, brushing a lock of brown hair back out of her face with the hand she was not holding the knife with.

0 Lutece Sharing is caring! 0 Lutece 0 5

Oliver

November 30, 2008 2:27 PM

Sharing is scary by Oliver

As he collected the ingredients, being careful not to stick his finger through a rotten apple, Oliver took a deep calming breath. He would just have to get through the class without killing Lutece and if she was obliging then that would be easy. Making his way back to the desk, Oliver sought out Hannah and threw her a smile - he wasn't sure if she saw him but just looking at her made him feel better.

"Is this okay?" Lutece asked, and it wasn't in a petty sort of way; she seemed to genuinely want his approval. Well, if she was going to take this seriously then Oliver wasn't going to object. He peered at her root and she seemed to have done a decent enough job on it. "Yeah, looks good," he said. The pieces were all of a smiliar size, which, according to his uncle, made a huge difference to the quality of a potion. If all the pieces were different sizes they didn't react at the same rate, so it made good sense to keep them as similar as possible. "I'll wait til you've finished before I warm the bile," he said, "'cause the ginger should take the smell away. I hope." Heating bile did not sound fun.

Laying out the rest of the ingredients, Oliver took up his pestle and mortar and begin grinding the apples. It wasn't all that bad; mashing the fruit was oddly satisfying, and it gave off an unexpectedly sweet aroma. Not only that, but we was working with Lutece and they weren't yelling at each other. Stranger things had happened, no doubt, but Oliver couldn't think of any just at that moment.

0 Oliver Sharing is scary 0 Oliver 0 5

Amber

November 30, 2008 10:21 PM

But it's the focus of the lesson! by Amber

"Amber," Amber said in reply, glad she didn't have to give her surname. She knew it was stupid of her, but she didn't like the look that sometimes flashed through people's eyes or cast its shadow over their faces when they heard a girl say she was a Carey. It was hardly her fault that Gwen and Morgaine had gotten here first and made an impression that the students stuck to their name, or that the older people in her family had created a worse image for the professors to remember. "Fifth year, Teppenpaw. And I'm awful at this class."

She wasn't embarrassed to admit that, even to a third year and an Aladren. Everyone was bound to be better at some of her subjects than others, and this happened to be one that she wasn't that good at. 'Awful' might've been too strong, especially since she had yet to make a potion explode, but exaggeration wasn't that odd for her, either.

As the older half of the partnership, she thought it would be expected of her to lead it. "I'll set up the cauldron," she said. She thought she could pull off charms to fill it and light it, even after a summer without practice. It was an annoying law that kept her from doing any magic when at home. "Can you get the notecard and do prep?" She wrinkled her nose. "I hope we don't have to work with rotten apples for our version." She wasn't squeamish - well, not too bad about it, anyway - but rotten fruit was just nasty.

0 Amber But it's the focus of the lesson! 0 Amber 0 5

Laurie Cider

December 02, 2008 12:36 PM

I'm rather hoping I fail this lesson. by Laurie Cider

Laurie breezed into her potions class, book bag and camera case in tow. The morning had been spent experimenting with a new light filter she had received the second day of term. If adjusted correctly, she could capture a still with a great deal of movement, but only the centered object would be magically infused. The rest of the photograph would be like any other Muggle picture, frozen and unmoving. She hoped to take a few more pictures while in class, presuming that she finished her lesson early.

For that matter, she ought to take one of the new Potions professor. Goodness knows she would need at least one for the newspaper's Staff Corner. Once settled behind a table on the middle left, she took out her camera and lifted it to her eye. She paused, though, once said professor came into focus. The features that ought to have been glaringly obvious from the moment she entered the class were brought to fine detail from behind her camera lens.

Her gasp escaped, even if somewhat stifled by her hand. Laurie was not surprised when minutes later Holly Greer ran from class, looking positively ill.

She found though, as the lecture progressed and Professor Schmidt continued his explanations, that there was more than a fair amount of black humor infused into all of it. While the dangling ear lobe left her rather disconcerted, the hair was no worse than your average pseudo-goth punk teenager. And if she allowed her eyes to glaze over, she could pretend that the malformations on his arm were nothing more than tattoos. Perhaps she was guilty of self deception in this, but by the time the lesson broke into practical applications, she no longer felt the need to wince when lifting her camera to her eye.

Click!

She caught Professor Schmidt just as he smiled, his hand outstretched with the potions card in grasp. He was an interesting subject, she decided, after glancing down at the preview pane of the photograph. Just like a Muggle digital camera gave you the option to review your pictures, this new and improved Wizarding one, when tapped with a wand, gave a fifteen second preview of the last photo taken. So involved was she in looking over the photo, that she noticed rather belatedly that someone was talking to her.

"Eh? Ah, sorry about that, I was just. . .well, you know," Laurie apologized, hurriedly putting her camera back into its case. She slid out of her school robes immediately after, always preferring the tight sleeves of her shirt to the billowing ones of her robes. Her hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck next, which was quickly followed by a clearing of her work station and introduction of her potions kit. "There, now I'm all ready. Ah," she added, noticing in her classmate's hand the potions card, "you found it already. Excellent. What's the first step?"

0 Laurie Cider I'm rather hoping I fail this lesson. 0 Laurie Cider 0 5

Lucie

December 03, 2008 9:49 PM

Or just fun. by Lucie

Every bit of sarcasm or bitterness that came from Paul Tarwater was completely lost on Lucie. Oh, it wasn’t that she didn’t notice it for she did, but it was more that she ignored it or rather decided to play along as though he asked the most logical questions on Earth, and therefore explained what she meant with utter patience, “No, we did not fail and in pretend it does not require one of us to turn into a babbling idiot. We are going to pretend we are making a different potion, specifically an antidote to a poison to save the girl. Haven’t you ever wanted to help another person?” She assumed that everyone had at least one person that was important to him or her, either in family or friendship.

“So, anyhow,” she continued on with a wave of her hand, as though what she said wasn’t really that important, “He doesn’t have a pet Basilisk, but he does have an island. He will probably put us there to hunt if we fail, but so far we’ve never failed at anything cause we’re the most brilliant potions masters in all the land. He’ll provide us with anything we need to accomplish our goal. The man up there,” nodding towards the professor, ”is overseeing the project and to make sure we don’t escape. We better get started if we want to succeed.” She got the rotten apples for Paul and pushed them over to him. “If you don’t mind? Apples are disgusting to begin with. I can start on the fluxweed.”

While she began to work, she took to glancing over at Paul, as she worked through how she wanted to start her line of questions. “You’re friends with my sister, Danae, right?” Lucie asked casually, as though it were the obvious conversation starter. She made sure to make eye contact with him and smiled. She had heard it was important to do to put someone at ease and he seemed to be a person that needed to be put at ease, especially before continuing to fish for answers or using him as a guinea pig. Yes, the latter part was a horrible thing to do, but it was true. She was testing the waters of her new teenage status.

“How was your summer break? Mine was good.” This was untrue, but she didn’t want to focus on herself quite yet. “Well, it was rather boring. I was pretty much on my own.” She stuck out her lower lip in a bit of a pout at this part as though she had suffered a fate worse than death at the terrible injustice. “Danae went off to visit Josh Santoro.” She reached over to get a tool and as she did so brushed her fingers on ‘accident’ against his. She made no acknowledgment that it had happened, which if she were lucky would confuse and distract him. It was a bonus either way if it did. “So, what can you tell me about him?” She was hoping he would just talk about the other boy without prompting.

0 Lucie Or just fun. 0 Lucie 0 5

Paul

December 04, 2008 8:46 PM

You know, I think I'll stick with terrible. by Paul

Paul gave a breif sigh when his sarcasm went on ignored (it couldn't have been unnoticed, for he doubted Lucie being that dense), and his eyes flicked over to the door of the Charms class. If he just stood up and left, what could Lucie do? It would save him pain, and Cissy-like thoughts that would put him a notch up on the "criminal" ladder he had been making. He comment on if Paul had ever wanted to help other people caused a sort of pang in him, and he looked at her quickly, wondering if she was trying to insulting or truly curious.

He wasn't going to go on about how so much of his life was centered around just helping his family. About the financial situation (that, when one really looked back on it, was all his fault for being so stupid), instead he just muttered an embarrassed, "Well of course," which probably didn't make it to Lucie's ears as she went on talking about their "mission" to save this girl. His hand covered his face, which a small chuckle came from, when she mentioned them being hunted by a crazed rich man on an island as well as the thought of that professor overseeing them. But then the rotten apples passed under him, and Paul wrinkled his nose.

His voice dropped from the laugh to his natural monotone, "Of course," he muttered, and put the apples in the cup and proceeded to turn them into a disgusting pastey substance. She didn't like apples, lightly, he mentioned, "Eating apples is said to lower the risk of breast cancer and Alzheimers," he offered on the basis of light conversation away from her crazed ideas. His eyes flicked around the room habitually as he contemplated getting up and leaving once more when Lucie mentioned Danae, he caught her eyes and looked back down to the disgusting apples. "Yes, we're friends, I guess," he muttered, now dropping the want to dictate the conversation away so he came out painlessly and just wanting to leave.

He set the rotten things to the side (it had to be added last) with a grimace while he looked at what else was on their list. Really? Who had put armadillo bile into a cauldron thinking that it was a good idea? If Lucie didn't like rotten apples, he was sure he was probably going to be the one dealing with the bile. The ginger root had to be chopped and added to the bile first, ginger root chopping first would be more comforting for him (besides, he actually kept ginger root with him for this class).

She began to talk about her summer (where had that turned up, his mind went through their conversation looking for the transition to the easy and natural summer talk) and Paul nodded along. "Really," he muttered, not sounding interested in the least (in fact, a touch of dry humor itched at his throat on the word). He hadn't known what Danae had been doing over the summer, to be honest, but it didn't exactly bother him. He and Danae had a friendship that was... probably a lot less personal than most people considered friendships to be, he never asked her about summer plans. It seemed a lot like prying to him. "My summer was uneventful as well," the doctors and counselors and Cissy and Horace and his father (losing yet another job) and Grandfather (frightening people away) had really become habit for him.

Well, that didn't make it any less eventful. So Paul just let it be known in his head that he was lying, no soft spots there. His hands tightened on the knife, and his entire body stiffened at the physical contact. His eyes twisted in his head to glance at Lucie before turning away. He couldn't help it, not being one for any sort of touching so suddenly, he let out a small breath. "Josh Santoro you mean?" Paul questioned, hoping to get his head back on track. "Can't say I have much of an opinion, we've never really had a conversation," he stated evenly, his mind calming at the accidental touch. Paul's hands seemed like they'd be fine enough to start cutting without spazzing, so he began to chop. His eyes scanned the root, cutting horribly slow, making sure the cuts were perfect and even.

"Danae seems to like him enough," he continued, shrugging, not entirely focused on that subject (for good reason). Josh Santoro had a twin, he found himself remembering, a twin in Pecari. It was that one that Paul found a personal dislike, probably just because he was the talkative and personable, even a little flirty, one. The kind of person Paul chose to butt heads with when he was feeling particularly suicidal of his image in this school. While Josh seemed personable too, he was a bit quieter, a trait Paul was seeing less and less. He preferred quieter people, he remembered looking back at Lucie.

Talkative, personable, maybe a little prying. Paul felt his mind sink, it just wanted him to curl up and sleep. Or run, yes, his mind wanted him to run more than anything. He just tried to stifle the urge.

0 Paul You know, I think I'll stick with terrible. 0 Paul 0 5

Thyme Barrington

December 07, 2008 7:02 PM

I'm just so enthusiastic... by Thyme Barrington

Unlike most students in her Potions class, Thyme Barrington did not gag or even flinch at Professor Schmidt's appearance-because it barely registered with her. In her old days, she would have thought of him as a fantastic character from a story, the kind she would want to write about. Now, however, Thyme was like a mere shell of her former self, a zombie going through the motions. Since the death of her twin sister, she just wasn't the same. She didn't eat right, or sleep right. Her grades had fallen. Her writing had gotten darker and more morbid.

Mostly though, Thyme just felt lost. Tea had often spoken for the both of them. Thyme had always been the shyer one who had to think about what she said. That was why she preferred writing.

And then, she'd had to transfer again . Another freaking new school where she didn't know anyone. At Salem, Thyme had had her sister to help her. They had even been in the same house. Now she had nobody. There were the other transfers but it wasn't like she really knew any of them that well.

So, point number one is, take care of your cauldron as though it were your little brother or sister! A little brother or sister you like, that is."

This was where Thyme nearly lost it, the second he mentioned the word sister. She'd had a sister, though Tea had been the one born first. Thyme was the little sister. How he could compare a sister with a cauldron was beyond her. Oh, she knew that he didn't say it to be insensitive but it was still hard. Thyme wouldn't cry here but she was now tuning out. Not on purpose, but she was losing focus.

Suddenly, there was someone speaking to her. It barely registered. Thyme blinked twice. "Pardon?"

11 Thyme Barrington I'm just so enthusiastic... 101 Thyme Barrington 0 5

Renaye Warren

December 09, 2008 7:42 PM

Amen amen to that. by Renaye Warren

Renaye was never that horrible at potions, which was something she took a tiny bit of pride in. She wasn't too bad at Charms. She use to be good at Astronomy before it was struck from the curriculum. Renaye, however, always found more value in the school experience. Or course education was important. That's was paved careers. But life experiences was what shaped the whole person, in her opinion. Understanging one's studies, though, always helped for a little comfidence boost... Potions was the high point of Raye's day so far. Her mind had been stuck on the lack-of-response from Joe. He had written her and after she replied, a good two weeks ago, nothing. She had read and reread what she had written, but she hadn't said anything out of the ordinary. What the heck?

Renaye took a seat at random once she entered the classroom, not comprehending exactly whom she had chosen to sit with. It was until a sharp click sounded from beside her that the blonde turned to check. She let out a sigh of relief and slumped in her chair a bit.

"Laurie," she said, "Fancy meeting you here!" The two girls hadn't had a chance to really catch up in quite some time. Renaye wasn't even sure if she had seen her at the feast... No, she had been with Josiah. How sad. She looked around to the subject of the camera-clicking and said, "Wha-" but the words caught in her throat with an awkward gulping sound. "Oh. He's... ravishing, I think is the word?" Laurie looked around, apparently just having spotted her. Renaye grinned at her friend's observant skills.

"Eh? Ah, sorry about that, I was just... well, you know." Renaye let out a small laugh. "Sure, Miss Newspaper." Renaye looked around the desk, trying to spot the source of this assignment instructions. Ah, there. She picked up the card, exaimining the words. A chunk of the lesson floated back to her with an alarming reminder. Before she could voice her concern, Laurie spoke up.

"There, now I'm all ready. Ah, you found it already. Excellent. What's the first step?"

"Did he say... What happens if we fail now?" Renaye sat, card still held in front of her, looking aghast. How terrifying. If anyone said they didn't mind making a fool out of themselves, they were flat out lying. Lying, lying, lying.

"Uhh..." She said distractedly, "First step, right: Chop rotten apple peels and add to low flame."

0 Renaye Warren Amen amen to that. 0 Renaye Warren 0 5

Helena

December 09, 2008 10:31 PM

The professor or his potion? by Helena

"Definitely," Helena agreed, nodding, to Meredith's comment about Professor Schmidt hitting on a fool-proof way to make a name for himself. "He could probably leave during midterm and still be talked about for years and years."

Maybe he could, anyway. Some people almost seemed to become legends in their own time, but Helena suspected their glory was quickly eclipsed by that of younger students, first the ones who had not known the old legends well and later by an entirely new batch who'd never known them at all. It had no direct impact on her, but it was still mildly depressing to think about.

She put the thought away. It was foolish to carry on along that line of thought, and not appropriate for her company, either. Meredith was, from what Helena had seen, among the more fun, lighthearted members of the year; it was part of the reason why Helena rather liked her. They weren't close friends, or even very close acquaintances, but they worked reasonably well together and got on amiably, which was all she needed to simply like a person.

"I'm guessing there's doxy eggs in the supply cabinet," she said, getting back to the lesson. "They're not exactly what you find in a standard potions kit. I can go check that out if you want to start slicing up our ginger roots." With the exception of instances where she wanted her younger sister, Lavinia, to do something, Helena usually thought it best to phrase everything very clearly as a suggestion. Those were, in the end, all she had the power to give, and acting as if somebody had died and made her Headmistress was much more likely to put people's backs up than it was to get and maintain the cooperation needed for a successful venture.

16 Helena The professor or his potion? 88 Helena 0 5

Meredith

December 11, 2008 1:42 PM

Both, of course! by Meredith

Meredith nodded with a laugh at Helena's statement. She wouldn't be surprised if people who had never even met the man would be talking about him purely through rumors. And as nearly unbelievable as the truth was about his physical appearance and his lesson plans, she could only imagine what kind of a story about Professor Schmidt could be created by passing the tale through word of mouth. Something about a troll professor feeding poison to the students or something equally ridiculous. Actually, it sparked an inspiring idea. She made a note to remember that thought.

Helena offered to get the Doxy-eggs from the Professor's stores in return for Mere slicing the ginger root. Once upon a time it probably wouldn't have been wise to entrust her with any precise cutting. Her talent for holding steady in most cases was extemely limited. And then assigning her the use of a knife for precision? It just wasn't a smart idea. But while her tendencies to be twitchy if forced to be still for too long hadn't completely faded, she had gained some knife using prowess while doing chores around the house, some of which included helping her dad in the kitchen.

"Sure thing," Mere said and took out her potions supplies. She set up the utensils in as organized a fashion as she could and then took the knife and got to work.

Slices. She could do that. She forced the knife through the root and cut it in somewhat even pieces before stopping half way through with a slight wince at her mistake. She probably should have checked how thick the slices were supposed to be. That had gotten her in trouble with this class on many past occasions. Glancing back at the card, she saw that her pieces were, in fact, too thick. They needed quarter-inch slices and hers were twice that. She wasn't used to that kind of cutting. Nothing she made with or without her dad was ever so fancy to need all of that.

While underway with properly slicing the rest of the root, Helena returned and Mere smiled with a tinge of sheepishness indicating to her better, but much fewer, slices. "You think it'll still work with that much? I got the hang of it and I can cut another root if we need it. Or maybe I should just shred the fluxweed," she jokingly berated herself. Shredding was the simplicity she liked. Mere looked at the card with their instructions again making sure that was actually what she needed to do to the fluxweed. Thankfully it was.

0 Meredith Both, of course! 0 Meredith 0 5

Echo Elms

December 15, 2008 6:11 PM

You're a 4th year, then? by Echo Elms

Echo liked this new professor. He was like an inbreeding between that Back to the Future guy and a zombie, which was, of course, awesome. As he reviewed the safety precautions Echo had once tried to recite backwards while standing on one leg and balancing his wand on one finger--a creative study technique for a particularly dull day--Echo used the spare moment to doodle a three way war between zombies, pirates, and ninjas in the margins of his notebook. They were trying all trying to win the favor of a cauldron named Alice while Alice's big brother cauldran named Schmidty wept in the distance. He glanced over at his desk buddy, but she was one of the new Salem kids so he didn't know if she was muggle enough to appreciate it. Purebloods usually just didn't get the ninja-pirate-zombie thing, and even some half bloods missed the loop sometimes.
And so it was that when the girl asked, "Um, partners?" was the first real interaction Echo had with her. She looked a little sick.

"Sure," he said. It was generally accepted that whoever you sat next to would be your partner for the day. Or, at least, that's how he understood it.

Usually, Echo found a way to make the other person get the ingredients, but today he was feeling generous. Maybe she didn't know where stuff was, or maybe she was going to fall over if she stood up. It was all good. He'd get them. No big deal. "I'll get the... the... stuff."

That sounded so intelligent. Good job, Echo. Way to prove you're a freak to the new girl.

He B-lined to the cabinet, asked his friends were things were, and returned with the needed materials in hand. He carefully placed the cauldron down on the desk. "I've never had a sibling. Should we name it?"

Not that he knew her name, but that could wait. First, the cauldron could get a name. Then she could get one if she wanted one, assuming he remembered to ask, or she thought to, or something. It was hardly important. He'd probably forget it by the end of the class anyway.

21 Echo Elms You're a 4th year, then? 93 Echo Elms 0 5

Cynthia Smythe

December 18, 2008 8:28 AM

And I'm full of sympthay by Cynthia Smythe

Potions had always been once of Cynthia's favorite classes. You could work hard and truly see the result. You could be creative, should the inclination take you (Cynthia rarely found that it did). You could spend hours working in silence and people wouldn't bother you. Yes, potions was a fabulous subject.

Of course at school in wasn't so fun. There was always a professor telling you what to do, and Sonora, even more than Salem, encouraged working in groups. Cynthia ground her teeth silently as the professor here introduced himself and the lesson in a rather unorthodox way. Could she not be spared his insanity and lurid teaching methods?

Tuning out the madness, Cynthia turned to study her partner, instead. There was something familiar about this girl. Not in a comfortable kind of way, but more of a previous life familiarity. "I know you, don't I?" Cynthia said in her harsh voice. There was no answer from the girl, so Cynthia added, "Did you go to Salem?" just for some sort of clarification. A moment later and the other girl finally realised she was being addressed.

"I said do I know you from Salem?" Cynthia repeated, her tone clearly betraying her frustration at having to repeat herself.

0 Cynthia Smythe And I'm full of sympthay 103 Cynthia Smythe 0 5

Laurie

December 19, 2008 9:51 AM

Friend! Sorry for the lateness- no more! by Laurie

Laurie grinned back, knowing the teasing was all in good fun. It was almost startling how much more at ease she immediately felt when around her best friend. For once she didn't need to pause and consider her words before speaking; she could just. . .be. "No, he didn't say what would happen, which leads me to believe that while not life-threatening, the results could still be rather embarrassing. I'm hoping for no explosions."

Rumors and stories about past potion lessons, not mention Professor Schmidt's physical state left her rather cautious. "Then again, if we succeed, we'll still look like an idiot, so maybe it's better to have the explosion." Her words were only half in jest; considering the mindset of some of her classmates, public ridicule seemed the darker of the two dangers.

"Chopped rotten apple peels coming right up." She started in on the task, her chopping knife a departure from most students' potions kits. Her father had replaced her knives with a vague explanation of no chef father sends his daughter to school with shoddy knives. Still, the santoku was plenty sharp and easy to handle. She read over her friend's shoulder for the next step. "Okay, stir counter-clockwise forty times and then add powdered sneezewort. I got the stirring if you promise to entertain me with stories about your fabulous summer."

0 Laurie Friend! Sorry for the lateness- no more! 0 Laurie 0 5

Helena

December 20, 2008 11:01 PM

Had to ask. by Helena

Luckily, there wasn't much of a line at the supply cabinet. It took a moment to find the (possibly poisonous) doxy eggs among all the other ingredients and another to dole out the correct quantity, but Helena still returned to the table as Meredith finished slicing the ginger root. She put the bowl of eggs down as the problem with some slices was explained.

"You can do that if you want," she said, gesturing to the fluxweed to show what she meant, and caught her lower lip between her teeth as she thought about the question about the need for more roots. It would probably be best to cut another, but she hated to waste the already-sliced one on the table. Ginger roots weren't the most expensive things in a standard potions kit, but they weren't really beetle eyes, either.

"It might be enough," she said finally. "I guess we can add those, and maybe try to patch up some of the ones that were too thick if the color's too far off." Helena had little to no idea how good of an idea that was, but time was wasting. If they didn't have a drinkable product in front of them by the time Professor Schmidt wanted one, they'd probably fail the lesson. She'd accepted that she'd never be an O student or anything like that, but she still didn't cotton too much to failing.

Something about the doxy eggs going into the cauldron first didn't seem quite right to her, but it was on the notecard, so she added them slowly to the water and gave the mix five clockwise stirs. To her relief, it turned the dark, bluish-black color described by the book. Now came the ginger root that was supposed to turn it a deep purple.

Helena watched it carefully, half-expecting it to blow up in her face at any given time. Instead, it just turned an anonymous shade of a color she'd call purple but not deep purple. Shade was, however, somewhat subjective, and what if her definition of deep purple didn't match that of the person who'd written the instructions? She waited for her partner to finish the fluxweed before she asked, "Does it look close enough to deep purple to you, or should we add some more?"

16 Helena Had to ask. 88 Helena 0 5

Annabelle

December 26, 2008 2:32 AM

I take it as a compliment that you think I'm even that old. by Annabelle

"Thank you" Annabelle replied politely. She was grateful, both that she wouldn't have to get up and get the ingredients, given that there were probably worse things than were even required for today's lesson in the cabinet, and that he didn't seem to mind working with her. Calm down, Annabelle. She reminded herself. Not everyone knows who you are, or were. Some might not even care.

Non-purebloods wouldn't. Not even all purebloods would. To be honest, Annabelle really didn't want to be around the type who would care even if she hadn't been disowned. Plus, how were they to know who she was? This was a new school and Annabelle knew was being a bit paranoid. She didn't need to worry that some "good little pureblood" was watching her every move and reporting back to their parents who reporting back to hers in turn. That was done and over with. The worst had happened, aside from having to cope with a lack of identity now.

As her partner returned, she tried to relax and tell herself that everything was going to be all right, at least for the moment. Especially if Annabelle kept from throwing up.

"Me neither," Annabelle lied. There was no point in telling him how she used to but no longer did. He'd probably assume they died or something."Sure, why not? Do you have any ideas?" It was easier to keep from vomiting if she kept her mind off the ingredients, smells and disfiguration of the professor.

11 Annabelle I take it as a compliment that you think I'm even that old. 89 Annabelle 0 5

Echo Elms

January 01, 2009 4:39 PM

Ninjas always look younger than they are. Are you a ninja? by Echo Elms

"Hmmm," Echo considered the cauldron (of brotherly love?). It was definitely a boy, he thought. After all, they'd either be making something explode in it or drinking a liquid that made them appear stupid. Definitely a guy-cauldron. A guy-cauldron from the 3rd grade. "It should be, like, an I'm-gonna-gross you out kind of name.... like Dennis... or Bart. Which one you think?"

"You want boil the bile and eggs?" Echo suggested as he pulled out the knife and dried lizard toes from their ingredients and started slicing them longways. They were forever having to chop, dice, skin, grind, crush, puree, beat, and shave things. The potions lab should have magic food processors, or at least magic knives with various settings. Next, he turned the toes and diced them the other way so the bones had plenty of surface area exposed.

Setting the toes aside, one of three ingredients to be found in their recipe but not on the board, Echo reached gingerly for the rotten apple and the press. It was pulpy rotten cider that the recipe called for and he dutifully squeezed as much smelly brown gunk out of it as he could. It filled nearly half the small bowl he'd brought over for it.\r\n\r\n"Are we boiling yet? I've got the lizard toes and rotten apple gunk."\r\n\r\n\r\n

21 Echo Elms Ninjas always look younger than they are. Are you a ninja? 93 Echo Elms 0 5

Thyme

January 02, 2009 1:49 AM

Apparently, we can both do sarcasm by Thyme

Thyme scanned the girl who had addressed her. Normally, the girl's irritated tone might have upset her, but as it was now, she barely cared...about anything, at all. Nor did she think she ever would again. Thyme recognized the girl as one of her roommates, not that she'd bothered to interact with them at all. There would be no point. If she ever got close to them, they'd just be yanked away by some cruel fate anyway.

"I said do I know you from Salem?"

Oh yes, this had been why the other girl had seemed vaguely familiar when Thyme had seen her in their room. "I attended Salem, but I don't think we ever talked." She responded. Truth be told, Thyme hadn't even bothered to make friends there either and that was before her twin died. "You're Cynthia Smythe, right?"

She glanced at the recipe and took out her potions kit and removed some of the ingredients needed. "I have some fluxweed and some ginger roots. Our potion doesn't call for rotten apple but do you have the bile and doxy eggs? I have a little bit of sneezewort left as well, but I don't think I have enough for the potion. Do you have more? " Thyme had very little interest in making small talk with Cynthia and would just rather get this whole Potions lesson done with.

11 Thyme Apparently, we can both do sarcasm 101 Thyme 0 5

Meredith

January 03, 2009 3:19 PM

But the professor gets some bonus points. by Meredith

"Okay," Mere replied and got to work shredding up the fluxweed. Half from boredom and half trying to keep a worried look off of Helena's face after her previous mistake, she began tearing the fluxweed as neatly as she could, which still turned to slightly jagged strips. "All right," she said with a nod when Helena spoke again. "If the thicker roots need to be cut down I can try to fix that." Mere took a short break from shredding the fluxweed in order to separate the proper roots from the thicker ones.

She felt her sneakers tapping the floor as she neared the end of her task. Something told her she ought to be more attentive considering she was taking CATS that year. Helena seemed to be taking it all seriously enough when Mere glanced up at her and their cauldron as she stirred the contents. Meredith didn't want a bad grade in class either and typically she didn't get terrible grades, but even she knew her attention was quick to dwindle in classes, especially ones that weren't her strengths. That wasn't good in Potions when things had a habit of exploding or worse when one wasn't paying attention.

When asked about the color of their potion, Mere looked inside. Well, it was certainly purple, but they were looking for deep purple. Was it deep purple? It was a darker shade of purple. She could tell that much. Did darker mean the same as deeper? Another moment passed with Meredith's head cocked to the side and then she said, "It looks pretty purple to me, but I'm no color expert. If we knew what we were making we could probably look up a picture in our books. Any guesses?"

Mere looked back at the card just to make sure what she had seen earlier was correct. The fluxweed would come after the ginger root. That is, once they could decide whatever deep purple meant. Her Potions textbook was beside her in her bag if Helena did have a guess about which potion they were making. If not, Meredith was ready to add the next ingredient and see where it took them from there.

0 Meredith But the professor gets some bonus points. 0 Meredith 0 5

Helena

January 05, 2009 10:09 PM

True... by Helena

According to the little notecard, they had exactly two and a half minutes to decide if the potion was deep purple and the fluxweed could be added. Helena thought she knew, now, what CATS would feel like, and it wasn't pleasant; two and a half minutes seemed much shorter than she thought it did ordinarily in Potions, and the fear that they wouldn't get done pressed down like a weight on the back of her neck.

At Meredith's suggestion, she tried to think of potions it could be. She knew from Defense Against the Dark Arts that there was a Babbling Curse, but she had never heard of a Babbling Potion. Was babbling even the effect? The professor - who could have very well made up both what they were trying to make and a bunch of similar-but-unreal potions - had said it would make the drinker sound like an idiot to everyone else and logical to himself, so that was one that could go either way.

The second hand on her watch was moving abnormally fast. A jeweler would need to have a look at it when she went home for Christmas, if there was time and money for that.

"I have no idea," she admitted finally. "I don't remember ever hearing about one like what he described, but I don't really know that much about potions." Why, why, why hadn't she listened more to Geoffrey when he rambled about his art? She could've fixed this! "I guess we just add the fluxweed and wait for - " she glanced down at the notecard for reassurance - "three minutes to see what happens."

Helena leaned against the table, careful to keep a distance between the cauldron and herself. She had no clue as to its intentions. "Sorry if I'm acting like a nut," she added. "I always get way too worked up about this class."

16 Helena True... 88 Helena 0 5

Annabelle

January 09, 2009 7:10 AM

No, but that would be kind of amusing by Annabelle

"Bart" Annabelle replied. It even sounded...kind of nasty, considering what it rhymed with. It was something she would never name a child. The poor kid would be tormented and unlike her own biological parents, Annabelle wanted to be good to her children someday. She wanted them to grow up happy and loved, not paranoid, anxious and ashamed the way she always had. For a cauldron, however, it was all right. "It's an absolutely perfect gross out name."

She nearly wretched when he mentioned the bile. Potions was a disgusting subject. "Okay," Annabelle responded albeit reluctantly. She didn't know what else she could do, since Annabelle really didn't want to make her partner do all the work. That would be unfair. It wasn't as if she had to actually touch the bile either. All she had to do was measure the correct amount and put it into Bart. She did, trying to avoid looking at it as much as possible as she poured the bile into him. Ditto for the doxy eggs.

"Are we boiling yet? I've got the lizard toes and rotten apple gunk."

Annabelle looked at the cauldron, which was starting to bubble. "Uh, yea. Go ahead and add them in." She replied, refraining from looking at the toes or bowl of gunk.

11 Annabelle No, but that would be kind of amusing 89 Annabelle 0 5