Professor Fawcett

November 12, 2011 12:32 PM
The classroom where Potions classes were held was spacious and well-ventilated for obvious reasons, and placed adjacent to the hospital wing for almost equally clear ones. Now, at the beginning of the year, it was also as close to keeping paper to a minimum – just three cases of Potions texts and periodicals at the front of the room, and the one by the door had its top occupied by a stacked set of wire baskets for the three class groups to hand in assignments and a box of tissues – as logic would dictate and a former Aladren of the classic type could help, but John didn’t expect that to last long. It never seemed to, somehow, particularly around his desk and, to a lesser extent, the smaller, lower table at its right.

Happily, there was a generous space between his desk and the first of the student seats, all two-person tables taller than normal desks, with stools instead of chairs and surfaces treated with potions and then charmed against flammability. John had checked the continued effectiveness of those himself, repeatedly, before the year began, and would periodically through the rest of it. Fires were not on the list of things he wished to deal with this year, and were one of the ones he was more capable of preventing. At the back of the room, there was a door leading to the storeroom shared with the hospital wing, a set of spickets(with basins underneath; routinely drying puddles was another thing he did not wish to do and could largely prevent) for water, and a pair of large black cabinets, one holding supplies the students might not have or have enough of, one empty for the moment.

There was little else in the room besides two long rows of posters portraying famous potioneers along the walls which did not contain the blackboard and the supplies in the back. Student projects might begin to accumulate here and there as the semester progressed – certainly the empty cabinet would be used at some point to hold long-term potions from the Advanced class – but on the first day of classes, the room was as neat as it would ever be.

A few of the posters were murmuring about it, too. John chose to ignore them.

Once the class had been gathered in and the door closed with the ringing of the bell, he stood before the first and second years, feeling somewhat taller even than usual in front of those who generally included the school’s smallest students. “Good morning,” he said. “I am, for those who do not know me, Professor Fawcett, your Potions instructor.” He opened a red folder and removed a sheet of paper. “Please answer when I call your name from the roll.”

He finished that, getting through all the new first years’ names without emphasizing or, he thought, badly mispronouncing any of them, and then waved his wand, causing a packet of papers to go to each student. The second years would know what it was, but he explained for the benefit of the new students. “This is your syllabus. I suggest you keep it somewhere safe, somewhere you will be able to refer to it regularly, because you have before you what we are – unless I tell you otherwise – to study each class period until midterm, along with descriptions of your major assignments.” The projects they would work on this year paled in comparison with what lay ahead of the Advanced class, but they would be taken seriously nevertheless.

“I would also like to draw your attention to the section entitled ‘Classroom Rules and Procedures.’ You are going to be interacting with dangerous materials in this class, as has every class I have taught this subject to, and I do not intend for this to be the first class in which there is serious injury. If you are having difficulty, I am prepared to work with you to find a solution, but if you cause trouble in my classroom, I assure you, I will see to it that you are punished to the fullest extent allowable.”

He smiled then. “If you do not cause trouble, however, we can get along very well, and you may have an informative and, I hope, enjoyable experience in Potions. Now. Everyone take out your textbooks.”

He rearranged his syllabi every year, tinkering and adjusting, experimenting with different ideas and bits of educational theory in the half-conscious hope that he would eventually discover the ideal way to organize each level and perhaps come to be considered something of an authority on the subject. This year, he was taking the tact of beginning the class on a bit of a challenging note – not too much, not out of their league, but something that wouldn’t bore the second years to tears and which they could all have a use for. It would, if his recollections of being eleven were anything to go by – he was technically, he supposed, a half-blood, but had been a good bit older than these children when he finally found out his mother was a witch; sometimes, he thought that she really had convinced herself that her five years as a Muggleborn Crotalus had never happened until he and Carlene both turned out to have magic – hook the Muggleborns, and even the pureblooded children might want to send images of their new classmates and school and themselves home to Mother and Father and whatever other family they were particularly close or obliged to.

“Muggle photographs, as you may or may not know, are generally stationary – that is to say, the images in them do not move.” He said ‘generally’ because he had just enough contact with the Muggle world to know they were starting to do some interesting things with portraiture, and he would rather not be corrected by the Muggleborn version of Mr. Melcher on the first day of class. “In the magical world, however, they do, something which is accomplished through the use of a specific potion during the development of the photographs. This is what you will work on today.”

He tapped the board with his wand, and a list of instructions appeared, printed rather than in his handwriting to give the students every sliver of advantage. “This potion requires considerable attention to detail, so feel free to group yourselves between years for it if you wish. Take care with your counting and your crushing, and to add each ingredient in the proper order.” One of the good things about this potion was that it was not very volatile even if it went wrong in most ways, but he saw no need to tell them that just yet. "The ingredients are eight cups of water, seven powdered shrivelfig pits - you'll need to crush them yourselves - two boiled murtlap leaves, thirty-two crushed fairy eggs, five hippocampus scales, and one unicorn tail hair. It is a long list of ingredients, but the potion itself is not complex. Just be very sure to fully crush the shrivelfig pits, count the fairy eggs, and stir the correct number of times after putting in the unicorn tail hair. You may work together in class, but I expect your homework short answer assignments, from the syllabus, to be done individually. You may begin."

OOC: Welcome, all, to Term 15 Potions! Standard posting rules apply: 200 words minimum, no writing for other characters, decent spelling and grammar, and keep your part of the story realistic. That said, have fun!
Subthreads:
0 Professor Fawcett Lesson I for Beginners (1st and 2nd Years) 0 Professor Fawcett 1 5

Jhonice Trevear - Pecari

November 16, 2011 7:40 PM
Jhonice trudged to potions class. She did not like potions, it was to boring, to precise. Professor Fawcett didn't leave any room for fun and experimentation, that was one lesson she had learned the hard way last year. The best part of class was trying to partner up with somebody interesting, that didn't work when she got to class early. Which, as she walked through the doorway she had done again. Somehow. She didn't understand it, weren't you supposed to wind up being late if you weren't trying to be somewhere early? Maybe she needed to try and get there on-time, that should make her arrive late. Making a mental note to try that tomorrow, she looked around the nearly empty room. She claimed a seat in the middle of the room and took out her notebook, she could at least observe who came in when and with whom and such.

People filed into class, she took special note of Sullivan Quincy. She also made sure that he noticed that she made a special note of him. He was such fun. It didn't take long before Fawcett began lecturing them on the evils of 'not doing what he says' and such. So she figured it was about time to switch over to her official class notes. That was when things started to get interesting. Pictures?! They were going to learn how to make pictures?! That was awesome! Her notes desperately needed pictures to go with them, if only she had known how to do that at the dance last year, she could have gotten a picture of Derwent Pierce IV's hat!

This was going to be great, this was finally a potion that she could get behind. She scribbled down Fawcett's instructions, making very careful notes of the specifics that he went over. This looked a little complicated, "This is going to be great! Do you want to work together?" She asked her deskmate.
2 Jhonice Trevear - Pecari Pictures!! 209 Jhonice Trevear - Pecari 0 5

Thaddeus Pierce II

November 17, 2011 9:14 PM
Thaddeus liked his cousin, Derry. He did. Derry was a nice guy. Friendly, kind, all those good things. Derry was the kind of person who genuinely cared about everybody around him. That's why he was in Teppenpaw. There had never been any chance that he'd make Aladren, though.

It wasn't that Derry was mentally handicapped, the way Duesius was mentally handicapped. Derry was capable of intelligent thought. Thad just didn't think Derry had been raised in an environment that had ever taught him how to have an intelligent thought. Oh, Derry had been given the basics, of course. Reading. Writing. Math. He'd heven learned history from a ghost who had seen in first hand (a fact which left Thad exceedingly envious). But Derry had never learned to think. If anything, he had been severely discouraged from having independent thoughts. He had been told what to think and had never discovered that it was possible to dispute or question those thoughts. The worst thing was that Derry had been given thoughts that were just plain wrong.

Even now, after his parents had come clean and explained that they had . . . 'simplified' the truth for him, Derry still had a tendency to just take everything he was told at face value. He never tried to understand it. He just accepted it as truth and memorized it (or forgot it, depending on how important Derry took the piece of information to be).

This made it very difficult for Thad to respect his cousin's intelligence. If truth be told (and Thad always tried to be honest with himself, if not to everyone else), Thaddeus held Derry's intelligence in no small amount of contempt. Combining that with the considerable pride he had in his own brilliance, Thad had come to the inviolate belief that anything Derry could do, Thad could do better. That Thad was two years younger was immaterial. Thad was mature for his age and Derry was immature for his. It put them on even footing. Therefore, when Derry began his first year at Sonora, Thad had purchased each of the texts Derry had been required to bring to school. Thad read them diligently, refusing to allow Derry to get ahead of him. Not having a wand to practice the charms and transfigurations was supremely vexing. (Though, occassionally, under supervision, his parents did allow him to use theirs.)

Potions, however, was different. The laws governing underage magic use were more lax when it came to potions. Or, at least, they were not as easily enforced. His parents hired him a potions tutor who had lost his tutoring license for a number of legal reasons that had little to do with his actual teaching ability and rather more to do with him stealing from his employers. One or both of the parents remained in the room whenever he was present (Thaddeus assumed it was because they were making sure he didn't walk off with the good china), but he agreed to instruct a nine year old at an eleven year old's standards, complete with practical lessons. He had little choice really. He certainly wouldn't get paid as much for a tutoring position anywhere else, not without a licence.

Today, as Thad walked into Professor Fawcett's classroom, one part of him was excited that he was going to be able to learn the subject legally while another part was bitter that he was not permitted to advance to the intermediate class with Derry. He had, after all, attended two years of classes like all the third years had. It was not fair at all.

He chose a second year to sit beside, secretly hoping that Fawcett would notice how much better he was at this than even the older beginners, so that maybe he'd be allowed to skip up to intermediates, if not now, then maybe next year. "Of course," he agreed when she asked if he wanted to be her partner. That had, after all, been why he sat beside her. "I am Thaddeus Pierce the Second," he added in introduction, "of the New Hampshire Pierces."

He considered it a good sign that she seemed excited about the lesson.
1 Thaddeus Pierce II Do we have a camera? 213 Thaddeus Pierce II 0 5

Jhonice

November 20, 2011 8:26 AM
"Thaddeus Pierce the Second of the New Hampshire Pierces."

The words hung in Jhonice's ears and mind. Thaddeus Pierce the Second of the New Hampshire Pierces had sat down next to her and wanted to work with her. She had seen the boy come in but he hadn't really registered because some other 'interesting' people had come in about the same time. She was sorely disappointed in herself, naturally now she could see the resemblance. Thaddeus Pierce the second was cousins with Derwent Pierce the Fourth, and unfortunately Derwent had moved up to the intermediate classes, perhaps she had found her new Pierce to study for the year.

She smiled at the Pierce, "Excellent!" She hefted her cauldron into place and with one of the charms she had nearly mastered last year filled it neatly with water. Wait, she wanted to get this one right. She had potential to get a proper picture of a New Hampshire Pierce. Fawcett had said they'd need eight cups of water, how much was in the cauldron? That looked like more than eight cups, would that cause a big problem if there was more? From her experiences last year, it probably would. She thought this was a good time to begin the interview with Mr. Pierce.

"Do you have a measuring cup? I'm not sure what happened to mine." How prepared and organized was he? What did he know about potions already, "Have you worked with any potions before?"
2 Jhonice We'd better get one. 209 Jhonice 0 5

Thad Pierce

December 07, 2011 10:20 PM
Thad took note of the fact that the girl did not introduce herself. This not only ruled her out as a respectable pureblood (anyone born to his social class would have been able to return a proper introduction even if they were unconscious; it became a reflex at some point around age seven), but also made addressing her difficult. Still, she seemed eager to learn the day's lesson and wasn't shy about asking questions, so he could respect her for that.

He found a measuring cup and offered it to her. He scanned briefly over the potion's instruction again, checking the amount of water they'd need and the first couple of steps that they'd need to prepare before actually starting.

"I'm familiar with the theories of brewing potions," he admitted, since this was a legal thing for him to have done prior to formal schooling at Sonora, "and I've read a lot of books about the properties of the ingredients." He didn't say that he had never actually brewed one, though; he didn't like lying outright if he could avoid it. That he didn't say he had brewed before sort of implied he hadn't from context, anyway. He had, after all, been giving a list of what he had accomplished in the subject of potions, and actually brewing potions was a glaring omission from it.

"We should start by preparing the ingredients and having them ready before while the water heats, so while you measure that, I'll start crushing the shrivelfig pits." He produced his mortar and pestle from their compartment of his potion kit, then pulled out the jar of shrivelfig pits. He counted out seven and put them aside, closed and restored the jar to its proper place, and started crushing one at a time with an easy practiced competency that did not remotely suggest that this was his first real live potion.

"What should I call you?" he asked, probing for a name, so he didn't have to keep referring to her by pronouns in his mind, then asked, seeking to solve the mystery of her missing gear, "Where did you last see your measuring cup? Did you remember to pack it?"
1 Thad Pierce Okay. Where? 213 Thad Pierce 0 5

Jhonice Trevear

December 12, 2011 7:59 PM
Thaddeus Pierce II was certainly living up to what she had heard about him. Over the summer she had done some preliminary research on those that might be coming into the school this year, and from that she had learned that Thaddeus was really smart. From the way he talked and moved, it almost seemed as though he had done this before. Some of the things that had turned up in 'rumor' side of the information she had dug up suggested that perhaps he had in fact been taking some magical courses semi-illegally before coming here. She hadn't put to much faith into the source of those 'rumors' but now she may have to reexamine them. They also suggested that perhaps there was more of a relationship between Thaddeus and Derwent than merely cousins. She would have to keep watch on their interactions.

She accepted his measuring cup and nearly dropped it when he asked her what he should call her. Had she actually forgotten to introduce herself? She may have, she had just gotten to excited about the project and her partner and.... Anyway. She blushed quite a bit and gave him something of an apologetic smile, "Ohmygosh, I'm sorry. I'm Jhonice, Jhonice Treaver, from Aladren. The town, not the house. You're in Aladren the house, right? Are you going to try out for the Quidditch team?" She suspected he would, his sister (if it was actually his sister) was the Coach. She had been hearing rumors flitting about the school about Matriarch Pierce actually not being Matriarch Pierce, but she couldn't pin any of them down yet. She was going to have to work on that this year.

Turning back to the project at hand, she started measuring out the water, being very careful to get the exact amount the instructions called for. Once that was done she turned on the heat, and watched as her partner prepared the ingredients. "I know I had it when I packed up at home." she had made a checklist of everything she was going to need for the first half of the year. There had been that minor incident in the hall, had it slipped away from her at that point? "The only place I could have lost is was in the hall. I... put it down for a moment." She had spotted Arnold and Arthur Carey leaving the hall after breakfast and decided to follow them. They might have been talking about their triplet, and she was going to find him as well. No luck though.
2 Jhonice Trevear Excellent question, do you see any over there? 209 Jhonice Trevear 0 5