Professor Fawcett

September 21, 2011 12:39 AM
It had been nearly two weeks since the incident with the Mirage Chamber, but John still found his gaze sweeping automatically over the posters evenly spaced around his walls, looking for any unexpected visitors, as he greeted students entering his Intermediate Potions lesson. He did not have any objections to Tribble, and had in fact not entirely disliked conversing with the – former man, but lessons were really not the time for some things. Especially not the Intermediate and Advanced lessons. These were the people he had to not only prepare for life, but also for something that, in his very Aladren youth, had seemed more important than life. Namely, exams.

Some of the Advanced students, he very much suspected, though he was a tyrant with a heart of stone despite his rather thinking he was occasionally too lenient with his Advanced students out of affection, so he could only imagine what the fifth years, who hadn’t already done this once and come in thinking they knew what to expect as their major tests came up, were feeling as the time remaining before summer dwindled away. Perhaps someday, they would understand and come to feel some gratitude. It might be only after getting a harsher taskmaster – his Transfiguration professor had been enough of a demon that John retained a mild distaste for the subject and had eventually given up eating for a few hours before or after the man’s classes as an exercise in futility during his fifth and seventh years, whereas he was fairly sure he would find some other way to go about obtaining a desired end if he found out he was actually making students ill with nerves – but perhaps it would be because they saw what he had been trying to accomplish.

Would accomplish, too, if he had his way.

“Good afternoon, class,” he said once he determined that the wall held only its usual, barely-animate collection of old potioneers. Perhaps he should get some of the more expensive, interactive ones for some lessons…He made a mental note to make a real note about the lesson plan ideas half-forming in the back of his head once the class got to work. They might not work, but then again, they might. He was always looking for ways to improve. “If anyone who forgot to put their homework in the tray by the door as they came in could put it there after class, it would be greatly beneficial to your grade.” Even the worst composition, assuming other arrangements had not been made, on Albert Lackey’s second theorem and how it expanded on the work of at least two other mid-nineteenth century American potioneers would earn a better mark than no composition at all.

“You’ll be applying some of the theory you worked with in your homework to today’s lesson. After you stew the horned slugs yourselves; we’re going to be working more and more with that kind of technique. You may never use it again after you leave my classes, but by the end of the year, I think you will all have much more of an appreciation for the work that goes into ingredient preparation.” Truly, a full course could be taught on nothing but preparations, but he only had so much time to give over to the basics of it. There were always more things to do than there was time to do them, more things they were supposed to know than he or any other instructor in this school had time to teach them. “The gillyweed extract, however, you may have without preparing it yourselves.”

He leaned forward on his table slightly. “This is one of the more dangerous potions to bungle that you’ll cover this year,” he informed them. “Not to brew, but to use, so if it comes up on your CATS, errors are likely to be judged harshly. I’d like the fourth years to give it a try, but third years may, if you wish, work on a variant of the Shrinking Solution, one that deals with a more specific set of items than the basic and which produces a more limited effect – since we do not always wish to return things to their original form as far as the basic potion does. Work together if you like, though fifth years should remember that – forgive me for bringing the topic up again – you will not have this luxury on the exams, and you may begin.”

OOC: The usual posting rules apply – meet the length requirement, mind your spelling and grammar, and be creative and realistic within the bounds of your characters. That said, have fun!
Subthreads:
0 Professor Fawcett Intermediate Lesson II (3rd-5th Years) 0 Professor Fawcett 1 5


James Owen

September 27, 2011 11:18 AM
If James was getting fed up with the incessant mentioning of exmainations and he was only in his third year, he couldn't imagine how frustrating it must be for those students in fifth year, who not only did have exams, but who had been suffering reminders of this since their third year. He wondered whether he should start studying in preparation already, or if that was premature, even by Aladren standards. Regardless, he would inevitably spend most of the summer on school work, as he had done the previous two years, for a lack of anything more interesting to do. he enjoyed a break the first week, of course - he was only human - but then boredom rapidly settled in, so he amused himself by making revision cards and pop quiz tests that he could take at his leisure.

James tried not to be offended when Fawcett explained that the third years could attempt an easier potion if they wanted to. he liked to believe he was as capable as most of the fourth years, and probably some of the less able fifth years, too. There's no way he would be taking the easier option, just because it was an option. he would, of course, look at how the potions were different for his own benefit, and perhaps write up a short paper on it for his own reference, but he wouldn't be shirking in class. As if to demonstrate this, he immediately set about stewing some horned slugs to perfection, preferring to work on his own when the potential of a less able partner could have a negative effect on his grade.

Unfortunately, someone seemed to have the opposite idea in mind as they came to his desk and caught his attention. Being practised as he was at holding his temper, james didn't even visibly grind his teeth as he looked up and asked the interloper, "Can I help you?"
0 James Owen No exams for me 168 James Owen 0 5