This isn't really my thing, to tell you the truth. on Potions

Professor Fawcett

November 12, 2012 7:58 PM

Lesson II for Advanced (6th and 7th Years) by Professor Fawcett

The Advanced class was always, for John, a particular pleasure to teach, though he suspected some of his students might not necessarily find it a pleasure to take. He did not remember his own school years with as much clarity as he might have liked now, but he did recall that he hadn’t taken as many subjects in those last two as he had because of his affection for them. It was, unless the exams had gotten far, far more difficult over the decades, quite possible to make the CATS score necessary to progress while thoroughly loathing the subject in question, as John had proven with Transfiguration back then. He had been in his thirties before he made his peace with that branch of magic, and yet he had been marked well enough in all the way through the portion of his education which included it.

This trait was one of those which made his siblings agree that it was for the best that he had never had children, and which made had once, about five years ago, made Carlene dramatically drop to her knees to thank deities she didn’t believe in that she’d only ever had to have him for a brother, rather than a teacher, and then promptly begin cursing, with remarkable fluency, when she realized the state of being “well-preserved for less than seventy-something” didn’t extend to her knees as she tried to get up. If it was the character flaw she and Scott believed it to be, however, he did not see that it was the worst one he could have, as everyone in his Advanced class was there voluntarily and he did not think he treated his lower-achieving students poorly, so long as they were not disruptive or visibly lacking in effort, specifically because he believed there was a distinction between not enjoying something and not having a touch for it.

There was a difference, too, between having a touch for something and having a touch for it the day after returning from a vacation, but John saw this as a much smaller one than the other one was, and had less sympathy for it, especially in the Advanced class. When the time arrived to begin class, he did so promptly.

“Hello, everyone,” he said. “I hope you all had a pleasant holiday, but it’s time to get back to work now. If you could open your books to page 457….”

He gave them a moment to get that done, and then began to speak again. “As you see, we’re beginning a unit on truth potions. You’ll have two major papers for this unit – an opinion piece, which may be on whether you consider it ethical to use these potions or whether you consider it practical, given their limitations, and a research paper relating to a specific potion. We’ll sort out who gets which potion next week, so I encourage you all to start reading now and deciding what you might find interesting.”

He tapped the board with his wand. “For today, we’ll work on one of the milder potions. Its effectiveness is sometimes enhanced by the addition of valerian, which helps lower the subject’s defenses, but this is not strictly necessary, merely recommended.” Which could easily feature into one of the ethics papers, if anyone thought of it, but he left that open for them to pick up on themselves. “The ingredients which are necessary are spine of lionfish, essence of belladonna, dried nettles, sprigs of asphodel, knotgrass, eye of newt, and, most essentially, powdered moonstone.”

These words appeared on the board behind him as he spoke, appearing in his handwriting; he had put them up on the board before class and concealed them from sight. It was not his specialty, but he did enjoy charmwork. “Adding all your ingredients will take about half the class period,” he told them. “Then you should begin discussing your first paper topic with your classmates. Be sure to take notes as you do, get your preliminary ideas down on paper before you visit the library. Raise your hands if you require assistance, and begin.”

OOC: Usual posting rules apply, tag John (who you may mention walking around the room if you wish) if you need him, and have fun!

Subthreads:

The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. by David Wilkes, Aladren with Samantha Hamilton

Challenges by Autumn Collins, Crotalus

This isn't really my thing, to tell you the truth. by Sam Bauer

0 Professor Fawcett Lesson II for Advanced (6th and 7th Years) 0 Professor Fawcett 1 5

David Wilkes, Aladren

November 13, 2012 8:14 PM

The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. by David Wilkes, Aladren

Christmas, for David, had been almost entirely peaceful. It was weird, and he was more than a little suspicious of it. It seemed inevitable to him that he was either going to have a horrible semester now because of the uneventful time off or that he was going to get a letter soon describing, in great detail, as only Annabeth could (not for no reason had his older sister majored in communications), the blowup which was sure to happen any day now because of something everyone had decided not to talk about for the holidays, which he hadn’t been there to see build up over the first part of the academic year.

Personally, David was hoping for the second option. His family was the kind of thing country music was written about, the snowball headed for Hell, and now that he no longer had to live with it, he had almost started to see the letters he got about it as genuinely hilarious, rather than just as funny because his options were finding them funny or going crazy. It didn’t even all seem that real to him anymore; the people his mother and sisters wrote about seemed like caricatures, rather than people, things he would have deemed heavy-handed if he’d seen them in a movie. Selena was still good and stuck, and every time Anna started to get out, they sucked her back in and down with them, but David thought he was finally free, and in much less of a position to be hurt by a family blowup than by the fates coming after him because they were real jerks and had intentionally given him time off for good behavior so it would hurt more when they turned on him again. It was selfish, sure, but he wasn’t too sure how seriously anyone except those who actually, in a sick way, enjoyed it took the family drama anymore, so he didn’t feel too bad about the thought.

When he heard Fawcett talking about two major papers in one unit, he winced, but resisted the thought that he was getting Option One. Papers weren’t that bad, papers were just a part of life, and not one of the ones he was the worst at handling; if they had both been research papers, then they might have been bad, especially combined with the Charms papers they always had and Transfiguration work on top of all that, but as it was, the situation beat the family imploding in some spectacular fashion, even if such an implosion wouldn’t affect him. His sisters were still there, after all. And today’s potion was only going to take half a class to throw together. He thought of these things while he took notes.

“Here we go,” he said, to nobody in particular, as he opened his ingredients kit and looked over them, then shook his head a second later. He had remembered that he was running low on knotgrass over the holidays, and had bought a refill, but hadn’t gotten around to the very essential step of putting it in the little box in the kit which it should have occupied. It was still in his room.

Get knotgrass, he wrote a note to himself, then turned to a neighbor. “Hey, can I borrow some knotgrass? I'll get some back to you after lunch, I've got it but I left it in my trunk by accident.”

16 David Wilkes, Aladren The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 169 David Wilkes, Aladren 0 5

Autumn Collins, Crotalus

November 18, 2012 5:26 PM

Challenges by Autumn Collins, Crotalus

Everyday Autumn was faced with challenges-and she'd never been one to rise to the occasion. She got too stressed about every little detail being perfect and became easily overwhelmed. One little mistake on anything would send her into a panic and when she handed in an assignment, she would worry that it wasn't good enough until she got it back-and even if it came back with a perfect score and met her professor's standards, it still didn't meet her own. Ever. Autumn was a girl from an important pureblood family. That meant she was held to high standards.

Her greatest challenge though, had nothing to do with her studies. She struggled daily with eating. It was one of the simplest things out there for most people, some seemed to even enjoy it, but for the Crotalus, it was near impossible to do without getting upset. All Autumn ever thought about when she did was how big she was getting and how she was just biding her time until she graduated and could start dieting again.

She had no idea exactly how much she weighed-another fact that was driving her crazy-but she knew she was getting bigger and bigger. Autumn's first goal for when she graduated was to get down to 99 pounds. That would be a start.Then maybe someone would want to be betrothed to her and she wouldn't become a fat ugly spinster. The seventh year thought mournfully of how her body had looked before she'd gone into the hospital last time. 85 pounds. Just beginning to look good. Even though Autumn wanted more. She'd never be truly satisfied, never truly thin enough, never perfect enough.

The Crotalus stared up dully as Professor Fawcett began his lecture. She felt tired, sluggish. That was another thing, when she'd been on her diet, Autumn had felt energized. Light and free. In control. Now she felt others were controlling her and she was exhausted from studying for RATS. She needed to do well, a single mistake was unacceptable to her.

Autumn didn't know how much longer she could go on this way. She was so stressed and while she tried to keep her composure in public, in the privacy of her room she would often break down in tears. She was so unhappy all the time, constantly depressed. And anxious. The anxiety Autumn felt daily was overwhelming. The potions and the therapy really didn't help all that much and she didn't like taking them. Needing them made her feel weak, the way eating did, when all she wanted to be was strong.

And she didn't like the sound of this opinion piece. Autumn had never been that comfortable with sharing hers. Girls weren't supposed to be opinionated or strong willed. Plus, if Professor Fawcett was critical of hers and she didn't do well, she'd fall apart. Everything made her fall apart. She wouldn't take it much better if she didn't do well on the research paper either but that wasn't trashing her cherished beliefs. It felt less personal. Less like she was being judged as a person.

Autumn sighed to herself and began to prepare her ingredients, her anxiety mounting already.

11 Autumn Collins, Crotalus Challenges 164 Autumn Collins, Crotalus 0 5

Samantha Hamilton

November 21, 2012 6:33 AM

The truth will out. by Samantha Hamilton

Midterm had been a great deal quieter than Samantha had been expecting. Her brother's heavily preganant girlfriend had managed to acquire a dingy two bed apartment on the next block over, and Dave had moved in with her to help pay the bills with his earnings from working at a dodgy garage, which Samantha was noty convinced was strictly on the right side of the law. All this meant that it was just her and her Mom in their house for Christmas. It was clean, quiet, and spacious; Samantha had never lived in a house with a spare room before. It was still cold, and their lack of funding meant a smaller pile of presents than usual, but festive spirit was there in abundance. Samantha had managed not to over-indulge on the Christmas cake and had enjoyed teasing her mom about being a grandma just as she'd turned fifty.

The other excitement when Rob had proposed to his girlfriend of ten years, Andy. They had no intentions of tying the knot any time soon, but now at least the family was convinced these intentions did actually exist. Samantha had been hoping to be bridesmaid, but she was already eighteen, and feared she might be too old by the time they got around to it all.

As pleasant as the break had been, Samantha felt a was of relief as she returned to Fawcett's potions class to discover nothing at all had changed; some predictablity and stability was good, even if it meant essay assignments. Their professor wasted no time in setting them all to work, and so Samantha followed his lead, doing her best to encourage her brain back into action after its short vacation. She'd begun collecting together her ingredients when David asked it he could borrow some knotgrass. "I'll get some back to you after lunch," he reassured her.

"Don't worry about it," Samantha replied, passing over some of her remaining knotgrass. "I've got enough to last." She would only need her ingredients until the summer; she couldn't afford to go straight to college and it wasn't as if she'd need her potions ingredients living in her mom's Muggle house in their Muggle neighborhood. She was hoping that Andy could get her a job in her office for as long as it took for Samantha to save up and leave home for good.

0 Samantha Hamilton The truth will out. 159 Samantha Hamilton 0 5

David

November 21, 2012 2:00 PM

The truth shall set you free. by David

David had held Samantha Hamilton in high regard for a long time, but when she did, indeed, have some extra knotgrass. “You’re the best,” he said gratefully, accepting the ingredient. “A monarch among classmates. I owe you one.”

Now he just had to remember that he did so. David knew he was bad about keeping track of things, time especially, that weren’t related to classwork (an area of focus he had learned the hard way through pre-Sonora dealings with his mother) of not remembering that he was supposed to do something for ages after he was supposed to have done it, but he was going to remember to get some knotgrass back to her. Doing her a favor in return was nothing he had to specifically keep up with, he’d do that anyway, but repaying this specific debt was something he’d have to think about near-constantly for the rest of class to make sure he did. It would, now that he’d said so much about it, be that much worse not to get it back to her now.

Drama did, after all, have its purposes; his mother disagreed, he thought, but she wasn’t right about everything. David very carefully went out of his way to avoid the cliché of being a teenager who didn’t think his parents, or at least his mother, knew anything, mostly because clichés annoyed him if he wasn’t the one using them, but he didn’t think the adults were always necessarily omniscient, either. It was good to have some balance, and besides, it gave him and his sisters something to feel superior about at family parties.

He checked over his now complete set of ingredients on the desk in front of him once more, to be sure he had everything, and then decided to be greatly daring and attempt to engage his benefactor in mild conversation. It was possible she was about to have a breakdown from the stress of worrying about RATS being very close, but if so, he was pretty sure that would be made evident in time for him to cease the attempt before injuries were doled out, and he didn’t see Samantha as really that sort, anyway. “So, you looking forward to this unit?” he asked, setting up his cauldron to begin working and looking for his knife to turn the ingredients into useful forms with. Things were never where they were supposed to be for the first week or so after they got back from a break; he had no idea how that worked, since he was pretty sure he hadn't even opened his potions kit the whole time he had been at home, but it was almost always true.

16 David The truth shall set you free. 169 David 0 5

Sam Bauer

November 21, 2012 11:04 PM

This isn't really my thing, to tell you the truth. by Sam Bauer

Privately, in his heart of hearts, there was something Sam knew about himself, and it was that he was not exceptional in any way. He was good at this, okay at that, he got by in every aspect of his life, but he was brilliant at nothing, as far as he could tell. The list of awards that would follow his name on school lists would seem to indicate otherwise, but Sam attributed that entirely to Normalcy being much more of a Crotalus virtue than the ways in which Nic and Autumn stood out. It hadn’t been so much what had made him suited for the positions he held which had gotten him into them as it had been what about them made them unsuited, because he perceived himself as fundamentally neutral in that way.

This mediocrity had its advantages, he had to say, but one of them was not anything which related in any way to Advanced classes at Sonora Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He spent quite bit of time, sometimes, when he wanted to procrastinate, debating what had been his worst choice, Potions or Defense or Transfiguration, because every time he decided which of them was the most hellish, then another one proved him wrong, and he couldn’t keep track well enough to tell if one did that more often than the others. He had spent the whole year, so far, feeling progressively more and more wrung out, stretched thin, and generally hard-done-by. It wasn’t much fun at all.

Still, though, there were only a few more months and then he could go home, finally admit his mediocrity to himself and his mother’s ambitions for him to have a better life than she had, and get on with it. Whatever ‘it’ was. He still, despite thinking about little else over the winter break, had no idea what that was going to be. He was holding onto what he normally would have sneered at as the worst sort of foolish optimism as far as that went, hoping that things would just work themselves out somehow, rather how he felt about his RATS. Despite his mother’s exhortations in letters all year, he still had no real study schedule for them, figuring it could only get more confusing at this point

Fawcett did nothing to disabuse him of that notion, or to take away one of his favorite other excuses for not studying, namely that he had too much work being assigned right now to look over work he had already done. Two papers for one unit, really? He knew this was Advanced, this was Fawcett, Fawcett was an Aladren, whatever, but that was just…excessive. The opinion might not be so bad, since even the most casual thought about the issue on his part made Sam realize it wouldn’t be too hard to develop strong feelings about it, but still….

With a slight sigh, and a brief glare at the back of Wilkes’ head for sitting next to Sam Hamilton, he began to sort though ingredients, shaking his head and smiling ruefully at the discovery that his mother had refilled everything in neat little wrappers over the holidays. She couldn’t actually make him do better, but she could hint with an impressive might. She excelled at making him at least wish to do better so he could be classified as a better son for her sake, though not enough to make him stick his neck too far out.

Yet. The day could, after all, still come. Certainly one of the last things Sam planned to do was discount the possibility.

“Is it just me, or is way too much of what we’re learning this year about how to get into people’s heads?” he asked his neighbor rhetorically, beginning to tear apart a bundle of knotgrass because that looked like one of the easier tasks he was going to be called upon to perform during this class period.

16 Sam Bauer This isn't really my thing, to tell you the truth. 163 Sam Bauer 0 5