Being entirely predictable on Potions

Professor Fawcett

April 16, 2010 9:39 AM

Advanced Potions I (6th and 7th years) by Professor Fawcett

What many people outside the academic world – such as John’s wife – did not seem to understand was that a syllabus, at least for a class in a system like Sonora’s, was an ever-changing work of art. Because of the mix of students from different years, it was necessary to constantly reconsider, rearrange, refine. He had to constantly adjust for varied levels of competence with an aim toward everyone developing into a more competent potioneer, because it would not go well if all beginners remained at a first year level until fourth year and then, after another year, were forced to jump to seventh. Most Aladrens couldn’t even manage that with any grace.

For this reason, every summer, John rewrote all of his syllabi. Sometimes, he knew, the program would not be its best. That happened to everyone sooner or later. Overall, though, revision led to greater efficiency, which was why he kept doing it and so had a brand-new packet to hand to each student on the first class day of the year.

“Good afternoon,” he told the Advanced students. Another thing that never became quite perfect was scheduling. The best time for first years was, no doubt, in the middle of the day, but there were problems with having the intermediates and advanced students in either the morning or the afternoon. He had considered petitioning to make Advanced Potions a four-hour night class a few times, but hesitated because of the time constraints it would impose on him and the students. Grading wasn’t quite as stressful as preparing for the RATS, but it was no picnic, either. “And, for those of you who are new to our class, welcome. This is Advanced Potions.”

He glanced at the headmistress’ daughter, a representative of the tiny fifth year class melded with the sixth years. That did concern him, but they would just have to make it work somehow. He couldn’t deny that Miss Valson’s status as an Aladren was comforting, though. “This is your syllabus,” he said, and a flick of his wand sent a packet to rest in front of each student. “In it, you will find our course objectives, textbook, major and some minor assignment descriptions, and a course outline. Please bear in mind that I, as professor, have the right and privilege of changing this syllabus at any time, that doing your reading is essential, and that I will demand an exceptionally good reason for accepting any late work.

“If there are no questions concerning that, we will progress to our lesson. I have decided to begin this semester with Everlasting Elixirs. These are potions which, as far as researchers can tell, endure in perpetuity if not deliberately destroyed and are capable of preserving other objects. I would not advise, however, that you attempt to use one as a source of immortality, as it tends to go poorly with the organs. Our potion for today is one of the simpler ones; you should be able to make a decent attempt at it in the class period. Take care, work hard, and make sure to complete your homework assignments by next time – we’ll be discussing them in class, which means two marks against you if you are unable to participate.” It was sometimes better to throw them in headlong at first, and besides, he wasn’t much good at easing them into the Advanced curriculum. “The instructions are on the board. You may work together if you like. Begin at will.”

On the board were printed the directions.
*Begin with seven (7) cups water. Heat to a simmer.

*Add two (2) ounces of powdered horn of a unicorn and allow to dissolve completely.

*Slice four (4) sopophorous beans and add their juice to the cauldron. Stir six (6) times counterclockwise.

*Crush eight (8) scarab beetles into a fine powder and add to the cauldron. Stir eight (8) times clockwise.

*Finely dice five (5) ounces of valerian roots and add to the cauldron. Stir five (5) times counterclockwise and then once clockwise, repeating until the potion is a deep blue.

*Crush two (2) ounces of wormwood leaves and add to cauldron. Stir four (4) times clockwise.

*Add four (4) jobberknoll feathers, whole. Stir counterclockwise until the potion is a bright green.

*Add five (5) ounces of flobberworm secretion to thicken. Stir counterclockwise eleven (11) times.

OOC: Posting rules apply as usual. Have fun!

Subthreads:

Being entirely predictable by Oliver Abbott

Do you dare? by Cynthia Smythe with Thomas Fitzgerald, Cynthia

Grateful for the distraction. by Laurie Cider with Grayson Wright, Laurie

0 Professor Fawcett Advanced Potions I (6th and 7th years) 0 Professor Fawcett 1 5

Oliver Abbott

April 20, 2010 5:17 PM

Being entirely predictable by Oliver Abbott

Having put the Quidditch sign-up sheet in the commons, Oliver headed for the first class of the year. It just happened to be potions, which just happened to be his best class. It also happened to be the one class wherein he always worked with the same person. He had done so almost every class since the very first lesson of his first year at Sonora. Oliver'd had a very interesting start to the year so far, most of which he was content to keep to himself, and a lot of that had contributed to his feeling some apprehension about working with his usual potions partner today. Then again, why should one evening change a seven-year long tradition? With a smile, Oliver wordlessly sat himself in his usual spot, next to his usual lab partner, Lutece.

Although he was listening to Professor Fawcett, Oliver's thoughts still mostly focussed on Lutece. After she'd let him into the commons, and they'd done some impromptu kissing, the fact that they both had spaghetti sauce in their hair had sent both Crotali to their respective showers, and Oliver hadn't seen her since. It felt very unresolved. So even as Oliver took notes on Everlasting Elixirs, he was wondering how this class would go in more terms than just the success of their potion.

The professor eventually stopped talking, and Oliver was daunted with the prospect of having to make conversation. Without giving much thought to it, he said (almost by habit) "I'll get the beetles and the flobberworms sorted. You could start crushing the wormwood leaves, if, um, if you like," he smiled a little sheepishly.

0 Oliver Abbott Being entirely predictable 99 Oliver Abbott 0 5

Cynthia Smythe

April 21, 2010 4:14 PM

Do you dare? by Cynthia Smythe

On the one hand, Cynthia was as close to delight as she had ever been to be in her last year of school. She could leave this childish institution and progress with her life, learning things that would actually be useful and meeting people who actually held her interest for more than a couple of short seconds. On the other hand, being out of education made her incredibly vulnerable to betrothal. The very idea made Cynthia's features contort to produce a more ugly visage than usual, but she was starting to get used to the idea. To have any power in society she was going to have to be married. All she could hope for was a man who was either intelligent enough to see the world her way (doubtful; very few beings were that intelligent) or stupid enough that she could do whatever she liked without him realizing. It would make for a severly unsatisfactory marriage, but Cynthia thought she could cope with that. Of course she did have the option of staying in education, and this would make bethrol offers less likely, at least for the duration of her studies. Though this was indeed a good thing, it might lessen the likelihood of any proposal being issued at all. Which would damage Cynthia's long-term plans. Being married was a necessary evil in this world. Cynthia thought she may as well get it over and done with: there was nothing she could learn at college that she couldn't get out of a book, anyway.

The short version of the story, was that Cynthia intended to get the best out of what was left at Sonora, and try to ignore the worst. One of the best was potions class. It helped that Professor Fawcett seemed to be a competent teacher. Glancing over her syllabus, Cynthia mentally ticked off those things she already knew, and those she would be happy to study in more detail. She knew the theory of Everlasting Elixirs (well duh) but she hadn't made one herself yet. It seemed like today would be her day.

Cynthia began working immediately. She filled her cauldron with the desired amount of water, and began counting out her best jobberknoll feathers. That's when somebody dared to talk to her. "Can I help you?" Cynthia asked in one of her least pleasant tones.

0 Cynthia Smythe Do you dare? 103 Cynthia Smythe 0 5

Thomas Fitzgerald

April 23, 2010 8:49 PM

I like to think I'm a brave and fearless leader type, yeah. by Thomas Fitzgerald

History was the only subject Thomas had managed to make an O in, which he found disappointing. He felt he'd been much more diligent in preparing for the CATS than Gray had, but damned if Wright hadn't managed to outdo him. It seemed it ran in the family; from all Thomas had been able to gather over the years, the guy's cousin had been both smarter and weirder than he was.

Still, he had done well enough to be getting on with, and RATS were another day. Those scores would probably be far more important for his specific ambitions, anyway. Thomas wasn't interested in something simple enough to only take his CATS scores. He wanted to start as high up the ladder as possible, so that he could climb to the top of it more quickly. The sooner he got there, the sooner he could get some actual good rolling, and - as a result of being in a position of power for longer than he'd be if he took more time to finish - the more he'd be able to do.

As such, Thomas thought that in partner classes, it might be best to pair with people who were established as being good at the subject. Unfortunately, though, Oliver Abbott was both the Potions whiz of the Advanced classes and the fifth limb of Lutece Anthony during Potions lessons. What Oliver got out of this arrangement except, perhaps, being the ex-boyfriend of Hannah Laurent was unclear, but there it was, leaving another solution to be looked for. It was possible that there were advantages to not working with a person recognized as being at the top of the class; folks like that tended to think a little too much of themselves and not give the second-best much of a chance to improve.

That was how he came to the 'person nearest you' argument. Thomas considered Cynthia Smythe as she began to work. She had a face like a thundercloud and, he'd gathered, quite a personality to match, but she also seemed to be one of the better students in the Advanced group. A trial couldn't do much harm; if she proved too much for his pragmatic sides, he'd just ditch her next time and either find a different, less temperamental partner or go solo.

"Good afternoon, Cynthia," he tried. The response managed to be slightly less pleasant than he'd expected, a feat almost as remarkable as being both smarter and weirder than Gray. "I was actually thinking more along the lines of me helping you. With the potion, I mean," he clarified. God help them both if she thought he wanted a date.

0 Thomas Fitzgerald I like to think I'm a brave and fearless leader type, yeah. 109 Thomas Fitzgerald 0 5

Laurie Cider

April 26, 2010 3:22 PM

Grateful for the distraction. by Laurie Cider

Laurie found choosing her wardrobe for the days that she had Potions was a welcomed relief. No silks or ruffles were allowed for those days, and she could retreat into the welcomed respite of jeans and previously-ruined t-shirt. Make-up was also something she could do without, as the fumes might mix with the make-up to cause unpleasant reactions. No elaborate curls or delicate twists for her too-long hair; only a sensible braid down her back, or tight pony-tail would do.

She refused to address the relief these days gave her, acknowledging only that when she was bent over her cauldron, timing the addition of the potion's ingredients, that she missed her dad a little less than she did every other hour of the day.

Laurie also appreciated that for most lessons, she was left to solitary work, and since the Advanced Potions class was relatively free from the Ladies, she needn't put on any pretenses. She had only been at it for a week, and already she was exhausted from trying to gain their notice. She wasn't used to actively caring about their opinion; previously, she had cloaked herself in a disguise of disinterest, of lofty independence and higher calling. That grating niceness she had dipped herself in for over five years had been both protective and loathsome. She tried not to think what Renaye or Joshua Warren would have to say about her.

Especially Josh; how much she missed him and his ability to see past her affectations and pretensions.

Professor Fawcett began with his typical directness, and after Laurie reviewed the year's syllabus and scanned the board for the instructions, she dove into the assignment. Potions was equal parts chemistry and cooking for her, and while she was not always pleased with the end result, more times than most, it was good. She decided to heat the water, adding a bit more than the required seven cups to allow for evaporation and then begin on prepping the ingredients.

She was surprised when a voice spoke to her right and nearly nicked her thumb. "I'm sorry, say that again?"

0 Laurie Cider Grateful for the distraction. 0 Laurie Cider 0 5

Grayson Wright

April 29, 2010 4:56 PM

They can be extremely useful. by Grayson Wright

As the Potions class settled into order, Gray found that he was seated next to Laurie Cider. He wasn't sure what to think about that.

On one hand, he'd never had a problem with Laurie before; in fact, in class, he had for a while classified her as a sort of honorary Aladren on the basis of seeming smart and being a pretty interesting person to talk to every now and then. Not too much, because she'd had a boyfriend and Gray knew it was just his luck that, despite him not exactly being the type that girls conducted illicit affairs with, Josh would take things the wrong way, but Gray didn't require too much interaction to form an opinion of someone. He might pick Lucie or Jera for company first, but Laurie was all right.

On the other hand, though, he was no longer sure Laurie was all right. The thoughts he suspected others of having about his sanity aside, Gray did pay attention to what went on in his year. It was good writing material. This year, Laurie was dressing like a Chelsea wannabe, which made her a very strong potential threat. Change wasn't always bad - Anne acting like a girl hadn't made her evil, it was just part of getting a life and a shrink at roughly the same time - but the Ladies were. He could deal with Holly on most days, but the rest of the so-called Ladies freaked him out as much as Thomas' motivational speech and self-help books and scared him a lot more. If Laurie was behaving like a Chelsea wannabe, he needed to avoid her with extreme prejudice and find some way to get Lucie to do the same, because if all three of the other prefects joined the cult, he was, as his cousin the social studies expert might have put it, near-friendless and done for.

Maybe, if Laurie wasn't too far gone, he could try to hook her up with Thomas. Dating a half-blood would ruin her with the Ladies, and then they'd have no more reason or power than they ever had to try to recruit Lucie. The only problem would be making sure he and Lucie escaped to Mexico well before the lovebirds declared the pro-censorship Evil Empire during a fashion show with motivational speeches.

Then he thought about that line of thought and blinked at his syllabus. Those damn self-help books were affecting his brain by proximity. That and Anne playing broadcasts of Magical Me loud enough for the whole house to hear and thinking she barely had the volume on, but Gray tried to think of his familiarity with teenage soap operas as little as possible. The poorly-executed excitement of their plots was corrupting his style, and it was embarrasing to admit he was related to an Aladren who was frivolous enough to listen to that.

He turned his attention to the lesson.

After the lecture, the first thing Gray did was take off his glasses and tap them with his wand so they'd repel the steam soon to be rising from all the cauldrons. It hadn't taken him a lot of first year to realize that knives, fire, and the inability to see anything around him clearly were a bad mix. That done, he began reading over the directions carefully, wanting to understand what he was doing before he tried to do it. He'd worked solo a few times in fifth year, and of course on the CATS, but not often enough to feel comfortable with it.

"What's technically 'deep blue' anyway?" he said aloud as he got to that line. He liked adjectives, and vague ones were okay, but this was his grade he was talking about. Gray had never been as obsessed with grades as Anne had been, he'd just sort of done well without really thinking too much about it and left his mind to more important things, and now he couldn't shake the feeling he'd gotten all of his good grades by accident. That meant he also felt that he now had to live up to a total mistake, which was no small amount of pressure. Where was Jera when he needed her?

"I'm sorry, say that again?"

"I was just, uh, speculating about degrees of blueness," he said, cursing himself for not paying more attention to the divide between brain and mouth. Of course, this could work out well. Girls knew about colors and stuff, didn't they? If Anne could learn it, it had to be somehow ingrained into the essence of being a human girl. And that was one of the things Gray was reasonably sure Laurie was. "What is deep blue, anyway?"

16 Grayson Wright They can be extremely useful. 113 Grayson Wright 0 5

Cynthia

May 02, 2010 11:49 AM

I'll be doing the leading by Cynthia

So Thomas Fitzgerald wanted to work with her. Cynthia frowned for a moment while she considered his offer; he would harldy be able to help her - unless he'd recently developed some unexpected genius in the subject - and she usually preferred to work alone. However, if she was going to have a partner forced upon her, she would rather it be an Aladren than not. Luckily for Fitzgerald, her making the best attitude had put her in a decent enough mood. Having made her mind up, Cynthia merely shrugged, and said, "If you like."

Her water already simmering, Cynthia subtly moved along her bench a little to make way for her partner to stand at the same bench. All the ingredients were already laid out (each in a clearly labelled bag - while she did Jethro's potions kit over the summer Cynthia thought she may as well do her own) and the seventh year was content for Fitzgerald to help himself. After all, to be in the advanced class he couldn't be a complete imbecile. Cynthia herself took up her pestle and mortar and began crushing scarab beetles. She did like to crush things.

As a rule, Cynthia didn't make small talk. She found it pointless, distracting, and often degrading - why bother to speak at all if not saying anything worthwhile. Therefore she continued to work in silence, glancing over at her partner occasionally to make sure he wasn't screwing anything up. Then once her bettles were crushed, Cynthia checked the water. Tiny bubbles were rising to the surface, so she measured out precisely two ounces of powdered horn, and tipped it delicately into the mixture. The instructions didn't say to stir the mixture yet, but to wait for the powder to disolve. How tedious.

0 Cynthia I'll be doing the leading 0 Cynthia 0 5

Laurie

May 06, 2010 2:40 PM

Except when handling sharp objects. by Laurie

The question drew a pause to her inspection of her thumb, and eyes blinking, she lifted her gaze. A simple question, but really, an apt one. "Um, a few shades darker than normal blue?" Laurie offered weakly, feeling a bit discomfited. Grayson sounded like he expected her to know.

She wondered, briefly, if he thought that because she was a girl, or because she had begun acting like one.

The question nevertheless provoked a quick skip to the back of her potions text; but nothing in the glossary or appendix provided a color scheme to compare by. She flipped back to the pertinent pages. "And nothing in the book to help out. Makes it a bit subjective, doesn't it?"

Laurie didn't like it when things weren't clearly defined. Not knowing how someone felt, not knowing where she stood-- not knowing if her potion was the right color blue. Anxiety always overtook her, a heavy, crawling sensation that sizzled in her stomach and buzzed in her chest. Her fingernails that rested in perfect manicure against the thick pages of her textbook were not her own, they were fake, artificial. Her own hung ragged and nibbled to the quick beneath the acrylics. Without her fingernails to bite, or shirt hems to tear, that anxiety that so frequently plagued her had no outlet, no avenue for escape.

It simmered, it stewed. It rolled and boiled. It--

Vaguely, she realized that her internal analogies were falling prey to comparisons to food and cooking. Laurie blamed it on skipping lunch; it was a hard meal to get through, because try as she did, she continued to exist on the outskirts of the very people she felt ought to give her recognition. She looked right, didn't she? She now had claim to the right sort of family, the right sort of people, didn't she? It wasn't fair that she was relegated to the periphery, forced to snatch up whatever crumbs of attention thrown her way.

It was humiliating, and equally so was that Laurie kept returning for more of it.

Pathetic really.

The unicorn horn protested beneath the crush of her pestle, and dismayed, Laurie realized she had gone far beyond merely crushing the horn; it was positively pulverized. "I'm sorry Grayson, but I don't suppose you'd want to work on this together? I've managed to botch two sets of ingredients now."

0 Laurie Except when handling sharp objects. 0 Laurie 0 5

Gray

May 12, 2010 5:54 PM

Or handling hazardous chemicals. by Gray

A few shades darker than normal blue. Well, that was more than he'd started out with. Gray hadn't been able to make up his mind between something a bit lighter than the dark blue of Aladren and a slightly unconventional description of a summer sky. Since Laurie's description was closer to his first idea, he decided that might be a safer thing to go with.

He had, however, to agree with her about the subjectivity. Pictures of a proper potion would have been helpful. Since there were none, Gray had to assume that there were levels of correctness - like a potion that wasn't quite the right shade of deep blue at that stage might work, but not quite as well as one that obtained optimal pigmentation. "Yeah," he said, "it does." He shrugged. "I guess it's, uh, one of those 'sink or swim in the upper levels' things."

To listen to his family talk, there were a lot of things of that nature in the upper levels. His mother hadn't attended a wizarding school, but everyone else was more than pleased to fill in the gaps about how the next two years were going to largely depend on his luck.

Gray could understand the appeal of living that way, but it wasn't for him. He liked external consistency, including an understanding that doing certain things, both good and bad, would lead to certain outcomes. This was why he was working under the assumption that his family was wrong. He was like his mother, and they were all...like themselves. Therefore, the things that applied to them didn't necessarily apply to him. Merlin knew it had been true often enough.

And then it was Gray's turn to almost cut himself after he realized he was being spoken to. "Oh - uh - sure," he said once the request finished processing. He glanced down at a fine powder she seemed to have been working on. "Was that the unicorn horn? I haven't started on mine yet, so we can work with that."

16 Gray Or handling hazardous chemicals. 113 Gray 0 5