Two cauldrons stood on a small, bare table placed in front of John’s desk as the Advanced students entered the classroom. The right side of the room sat facing a sunshine-yellow potion, the left, a shimmering, mother-of-pearl colored one with steam rising in spirals and a very appealing scent, which would, according to theory, be different for every person who breathed it, according to what attracted them. Both, he suspected, would be welcome breaks from some of the visuals which had lately accompanied a unit on the uses of blood in potion-making.
“Welcome,” he said to the students who had signed on for a voluntary two years of his subject. The Advanced classes involved not only the most complex brewing, but also the most delving into complex theory, and, in the past few years, a measure of independent student research. “For those who are concerned about them, your latest batch of papers should be back by our next class meeting, and your exams are here now,” he said, waving his wand so each paper went to its owner. “Though you may find anxiety slightly difficult to maintain while in the room with this potion,” he added, gesturing to the spiral-steaming brew. “Amortentia – an extremely powerful potion capable, as those of you familiar with Latin may realize from the name, producing an overwhelming, if temporary, romantic obsession in the drinker when brewed correctly. In its unconsumed form, it also tempts those near it to drink it by smelling of what attracts them, though I have read that the taste is slightly bitter, hence the potion often being hidden inside sweets. This effect is not overwhelming, and I shall, of course, prevent any of you who approach the cauldron from removing any potion from it for any use whatsoever.”
This he said as blandly and matter-of-factly as possible.
“It is also quite complex to make, though you should all be capable of it by the end of your seventh year. Anyone interested in giving it a try may speak with me about setting up sessions for the attempt for extra credit. In class, we will mainly look at the theory behind it, however.
“On the other side, we have a somewhat less dangerous potion – somewhat. This is the Elixir to Induce Euphoria, which you will attempt in class today. Consumption, which I advise against, will induce a state of overwhelming happiness.
“Hopefully, you have all noticed I described both of these potions as dangerous,” he continued. “Both can produce effects which completely overwhelm the reason and cause the drinker to throw all caution, prudence, and forethought aside – they can induce a reckless disregard for consequence. A single dose of Amortentia will infatuate the drinker for, at most, a day, while a comparable dose of the Euphoria Elixir will last perhaps two hours, but in extreme cases, these times have been enough to produce disastrous actions, and the longer a subject continues to take them, the stronger the effects become. In this week’s reading, you will notice several murders sparked by Amortentia, both from unstable drinkers who became jealous over the object of affection and those who realized what happened to them after the potion wore off, and several accidental or careless deaths of those who overdosed on the Elixir to Induce Euphoria.
“Your homework for this lesson will be a composition on how these potions compare to other means of altering or subverting the emotions and will, both with other potions and, if you wish, other branches of magic, though that second course will require more research. Take ten minutes to begin sketching out your preliminary ideas together before or after brewing the Elixir to Induce Euphoria.” He tapped the blackboard to reveal the instructions, along with a list of ingredients – dried, sliced shivelfig, to be added in the beginning and end, porcupine quills, whole sopophorous beans, and wormwood.
“You may begin,” he released them, assuming that by now, they knew that he would be on the lookout for anything about to go dangerously wrong and to ask if they had any questions about the potion or their homework assignment. Many in the class were, after all, legal adults now, and the rest were getting close.
OOC: Standard posting rules apply, tag Fawcett if you need him, and have fun!
Subthreads:
Loving the Challenge by Linus Macaulay with Michael Grosvenor
Clearly I am not a theorist. by Cepheus Princeton, Crotalus with Alex Devereux, Crotalus, Cepheus
Bumping into people by Theresa Carey, Pecari
0Professor FawcettAdvanced Potions (6th and 7th Years)0Professor Fawcett15
Settling back into lessons did a great deal to settle Linus' nerves. He had a couple of college applications ready to send out, and he was already ahead in his self-prescribed study schedule in preparation for the RATS. Admittedly his Quidditch team could be in better shape, but the Head Boy badge gleaming on the front of his robes did its best to console him on that matter. Professor Fawcett's unfailingly predictable work patterns were a blessing as Linus fully immersed himself in the final year of his schooling at Sonora.
Today, he was greeted by an unusually pleasing aroma as he made his way to a desk in the front, center of the classroom; often the scents here were pungent, but rarely were they pleasant. The seventh year experienced a refreshing fragrance of wet earth after a rainfall, mixed with the empowering aroma of leather bindings with freshly printed pages, and a sweet, floral smell he couldn't place. He found himself considering a couple of different potions that might combine to produce these scent effects, and then felt foolish when he realized there was only one real contender. He then had a sneaking suspicion that the notes he had been unable to identify could be attributed to another student sitting in the same classroom, which caused his cheeks to feel suddenly warm compared to the rest of him.
As Professor Fawcett began, Linus was already taking notes. He added an inscription to himself to see the professor about brewing Amortentia for extra credit. He was sure he'd be able to squeeze it into his schedule somehow... not that he planned to ever use the potion, of course, but he was keen to learn as much as he could while the knowledge was so easily accessible, and Linus always enjoyed an academic challenge. The Elixir to Induce Euphoria sounded no less demanding, however, and the assignment that accompanied it would no doubt prove to be fascinating; Linus was already jotting down ideas for further research as they occurred to him in the moment. He continued to do this for a further couple of minutes, and then lowered his quill, but kept his notebook open to one side to enable him to make further notes throughout the class. In the meantime, he began meticulously slicing his shrivelfig.
0Linus MacaulayLoving the Challenge205Linus Macaulay05
Potions was one of Cepheus's better classes and it was one of the few he actually enjoyed. There was something comforting about the fumes when a potion was brewed correctly, the meticulous chopping and crushing of ingredients, the careful measurements and number of stirs. It reminded him of home as well as his mother brewed all the potions in their house for any occasion. It was her hobby and Cepheus from a very young age had wanted to make it his hobby as well. The only drawback of the Advanced class was the amount of theory they were learning. Cepheus loathed theory, but he loathed exams even more.
On receiving his exam, he found he hadn't done terribly, but not very well either. An A. He was new to this level, certainly, and Cepheus did not take much interest in marks, but Potions was a different story. He actually cared about this class. He put his exam into his bag, wondering if he could sacrifice time from his other courses in order to work on this one more. He didn't care for theory much, but it was important especially in understanding how to use these ingredients and not make elementary mistakes. These theories were complex and Ceph had to wonder if he was just particularly dense when it came down to it. It took him longer to understand it than others, it seemed. He was lucky he had friends in Aladren to help him when he needed it.
Cepheus commended Professor Fawcett for trusting the presence of Amortentia in a room of adolescents. Since childhood Cepheus had heard fairy tales, first-hand encounters and horror stories all regarding this love potion. It was always entertaining when love potions went awry, but of course Cepheus was going to stay far from it. He had a girlfriend and was quite happy with where he was. Ceph still hadn’t told Theresa about his broken betrothal. He hadn’t seen her very much at all since he’d been back, though he had been able to give her the gifts he had picked up from India for her over the summer. He had given her a tea set with Indian tea. He felt proud to be able to give such exotic gifts. It made him feel more cultured than most of his peers.
The Elixir to Induce Euphoria sounded fascinating, though the stories weren’t quite as numerous and infamous as the ones of Amortentia. As his last act in his seventh year, perhaps he would take that elixir and cause havoc in the school. Having a reckless disregard for consequence would be fun only when he knew he wasn’t going to get kicked out of school for it. That was still a year away and there were loads of other things to think about before then.
Once Professor Fawcett dismissed them to work, Cepheus looked over at his neighbour. “Shall we?” he asked. After five years of schooling, Cepheus was used to working with his neighbours even if they were complete strangers. He went to mechanically set up his station, his mind being allowed to drift elsewhere as his hands set up the station as he had for the past five years. The ingredients all gathered and the water being warmed, Cepheus began to prepare the shrivelfigs. He didn’t want to think about the complicated research topic Professor Fawcett had assigned them yet. “How’d you do on your exam?” asked Cepheus conversationally.
0Cepheus Princeton, CrotalusClearly I am not a theorist.0Cepheus Princeton, Crotalus05
On the other side of seventh year, lurked the terrifying chasm of adulthood. It was vast, empty and starting to look tantalisingly like freedom, rather than horror. Seven years was more than enough school to last Michael a life time. Sonora was cool, in a great many ways, and he'd been pretty happy here. But he'd reached the point where he was just fed up with homework, exams and all that side of things, especially now that it was so much harder. Any subjects where his grades had been good, they had slipped to average; where they'd been average, he was now the high end of failing. Potions fell into the former category, his main reason for taking it being that it was his best subject (or had been, until Muggle Studies had been introduced – that was the one class he was actually doing well in). He'd worked really hard on his study skills in sixth year, his main difficulty having been how much responsibility had been turned over to him, and he was hoping to gradually drag everything back up into the pass range.
He was busy making mental notes on what he had to do later in the day when he took his seat in Potions, not really noticing who was around him. He focussed on Professor Fawcett, and the two cauldrons, one of which gave off an enticing but confusing smell. It was like the outdoors but also a warm, comforting cooking smell, like you were somehow managing to have a picnic in a kitchen. He listened as Professor Fawcett explained the two concoctions, not taking notes as he needed to keep his focus on the Professor's face in order to follow what he was saying. His quill was enchanted to jot things down for him although he always felt vaguely self-conscious about this, in case people just assumed he was lazy. Hopefully most people understood by now. The other trouble, he found, with advanced classes, was that they tended to be pretty bleak. If the subject wasn't outright grim it tended to, nonetheless, suck the fun out whatever it was. Today they were learning about the bleak and dangerously psychotic side of love and happiness. Great. He was fairly sure they hadn't studied anything yet this term which hadn't made him wonder whether wizards were just a twisted and off their rocker as a race. In general, of course. Most people he knew didn't seem like psychopaths but given some of the things invented, there did seem to be a propensity towards it.
Once the lecture was finished, he grabbed the quill and used it to transfer the note about extra credit to the back of his hand, where he was more likely to remember to do something about it at the end of the lesson. Brewing up love potion sounded girly at best and highly suspect at worse but at this point, anything was worth it to drag his grade up. Besides, he already consistently got awarded 'flirt' in the yearbook, so – unless this progressed him on to having criminal tendencies – he wasn't sure there was much more harm it could do.
He turned his attention to his potion ingredients and to the person next to him, then very swiftly back to the ingredients. He had ended up sitting next to Linus. Michael didn't really like Linus, and this was something he had found odd. He usually liked anyone who wasn't actively bullying him. He was a Teppenpaw. He was supposed to be nice and thus disliking someone felt like carrying around a big, dirty secret. But he found Linus pompous and irritating in general. The Crotalus boy also had a tendency to try to 'help' (somewhat ineffectively and mildly offensively) and Michael was not a fan of charity, pity or idiots who assumed that shouting and waving their hands helped him to understand. It was at least well meant though, and Linus had been quite decent when Michael had been bummed out about Eris leaving. Michael had come to the conclusion, therefore, that Linus really wasn't a bad person, and was someone about whom he was willing to think reasonably decent things, and that he only really disliked Linus when he was actually having to deal with him. And that even the most tolerant Teppenpaw was perfectly entitled to not want to be patronised. So, he was a nice person, who didn't dislike Linus. Unless he actually had to speak to him.
Michael bent over his bench, prepping his ingredients. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could mostly see tufts of his own curly blond hair, swinging forward, and could almost pretend that there was no one to that side of him. He liked to organise everything before he started to brew. Ingredients sometimes took a long time to crush or slice precisely enough and so one didn't want to be rushed, as everything also wanted to be added at just the right moment. It was all going rather well until he got to the sopophorous bean, which he needed to cut. It seemed rather resistant to the idea and tended to ping away when his knife made contact. It didn't go far the first time. The second time, he caught it. The third, it flew wildly onto Linus' side of the bench.
“Sorry,” Michael said, retrieving the errant bean, doubly frustrated with it now that it meant he actually had to engage with his deskmate and thus risk disrupting his good Teppenpaw status of Not Disliking Anyone. “They seem to have a tendency to do that...”
13Michael GrosvenorLet's mix things up a bit199Michael Grosvenor05
As Linus' author has helpfully pointed out, the instructions said to use the bean whole. I was getting mixed up with the part in HBP where they use it in the Draught of Living Death. Contrary to the impression he gives, Michael would actually be more careful than me and have read the instructions through in more detail.
Therefore, assume his post ends with him preparing his ingredients in a correct manner, and that his apology is prompted by his porcupine quills slipping out of his hand and rolling onto Linus' side of the bench.
Linus glanced up as an interloping porcupine quill drifted across his vision. "That's quite alright," he replied loftily to Michael's apology as the Teppenpaw retrieved his errant ingredient. Linus didn't really have anything against Michael per se, although he'd never felt anything especially positive towards him, either. Over the six years they had barely been interacting, Linus had ascertained that his yearmate was generally respected, had reasonable intelligence, and didn't let his disability demand him any favours (naturally, Linus pitied anyone who was less able than himself, especially when it was through no fault of their own, but he did find it somewhat tasteless when such a person consistently used a failing to turn situations to their unfair advantage). He didn't know a great deal about Michael and Brianna's interactions with each other, except that any problems seemed to have been more or less resolved now, and overall, Linus had no reason to dislike Michael. He tried to remind himself of that.
Unfortunately, engaging in conversation with people when he actually wanted to speak with them presented a certain challenge to Linus, who had always loathed his inefficiency at casual social interaction; trying to make small talk with someone just because you happened to occupy the same physical space was an arduous and occasionally painful task. He wished, rather pathetically, that Michael's belongings had stayed on his side of the bench, so they would both be spared the need for contact, and Linus would have happily ignored all others around him for the duration of the class, but maintaining silence once it had already been broken was inevitably worse than the alternative. Hence, Linus scanned his thoughts to find some suitable conversation opener to offer. He landed first on Teppenpaw's inability to produce a Quidditch team, but didn't think that Michael was interested in the sport. Next he considered talking about the concert, but as Michael wasn't a prefect and so didn't have his own group, Linus had no idea whether the subject would hold its metaphorical water.
Eventually, he decided to draw upon the all-dominating, impending Future. "Apparently this potion has been on the RATS papers in some format for the past four years running," he commented, cloaking his obsessive research into the examinations with the word 'apparently', while he, too, collecting together his porcupine quills in preparation for brewing.
0LinusLoving the irony of your subject line.0Linus05
As she sat down in Potions, Alex found that, very much against her will, she was beginning to relax under the influence of the vapors coming from the cauldron. It was not the form of lightheadedness which might normally be expected from breathing in likely-mildly-poisonous fumes, but rather a general sort of contentment, brought on by smells which reminded her of home on particularly rainy winter days – wood smoke from the fire, and hot chocolate, and whatever the flannel blankets were washed in, and just a hint of spices. She had the self-control not to do more than relax her posture a little, but she found herself wanting to curl up, in spite of a lab stool being about the worst form of seat to attempt that on known to man and her being perfectly aware that she was sitting on one.
A glance at one of the cauldrons, where steam was rising in spirals, confirmed her worst suspicions. Amortentia. Just what her year needed. Great. Alex considered herself pretty much disinterested, but that made her very unusual, and she hoped that everyone else was also, apparently, attracted by relaxing things and in no mood to either start snogging or fighting over it. Or to try to steal any of the cursed stuff.
Just to be safe, she sat next to her cousin’s boyfriend, deciding this would kill two birds with one stone. Cepheus was not likely, she thought, to realize a sudden attraction to her, he and Theresa were not as likely to begin demonstrating their attraction to each other for the whole class, and everyone could walk away happy. She nodded agreeably to him and made herself get it together enough to get out her books and notebooks, determined not to let the thoughts of Christmas, of all things, get in her way during class.
Fawcett confirmed what the potion was, and also what the other, less interesting, if possibly equally intoxicating in a different way, brew was. Alex made a note about trying out the love potion, just to see if she could, and then bent her mind to the one at hand, the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Oh, Transfiguration was dangerous, all right, and some of the stuff they covered in Defense, too, but this, Potions, was, she thought, probably the class students should have had to pass a character evaluation to get into. Admittedly, anyone with half a brain and a moderate degree of sanity could most likely lie through those, but it might have helped.
“Sure,” she said to Cepheus, and began to sort her own things.
“Well enough,” she answered of her exam. E. Acceptable. She would have liked all Os, but an E every now and then was inevitable. She just didn’t plan to make a habit of getting them, in here or anywhere else. “I knew I screwed up question 15 as soon as I handed in the paper, but I didn’t foresee the problems with question 23. How’d you do?”
0Alex Devereux, CrotalusYou make up for it with your charming personality0Alex Devereux, Crotalus05
Taking Advanced Potions was not the stupidest thing Theresa had ever done, but nor did she rank it with her top five smartest decisions in life. The class was, for her at least, over the line between ‘challenging’ and ‘difficult,’ and if Potions had been even slightly less useful a subject for a witch to know, she wasn’t sure she would have continued on with it after CATS, or at least finished the RATS in it. Since it was, however, extremely useful and she was good enough to get by in it when she put the effort in, she was still around, though she felt something like dread every time she entered the classroom.
Today, though, she didn’t feel it quite as long as usual. Normally, the smell of the Potions labs were nothing to write home about, at least not in the sort of cheery, content-free letters she sent most of her family, but today, it was…it was….
As she sat down, she propped up her chin on her hand, trying to analyze it. There were familiar components, but they seemed to change every time she inhaled…apples, cut grass, and rich fabrics, and…She had to blink a few times, rapidly, when Professor Fawcett began speaking and promptly revealed it to be a love potion, at which point she pointedly ignored the telltale tingling and warmth which suggested she was blushing, especially since she didn’t even know why. It wasn’t as though she were desperate enough – or amoral enough, of course, she quickly mentally added on – to use such a thing, and it wasn’t like she had been slipped one, either. Sure, if she ever found out Alicia and Cepheus were more than just good friends, they would both spend a very long time screaming if she had her way about it, but that wasn’t obsessive love, that was just basic self-respect….
She put her exam away and began trying to sort her notes out, but gave it up as a bad job and just went to fill up her cauldron. As she turned, though – maybe just because of the distracting potion vapors in the room – she did so a little too quickly and bumped into someone else. “Ow!” she exclaimed, rubbing her arm and nearly, with one hand off it, dropping the cauldron. “I mean, sorry,” she amended quickly, hoping to alleviate any offense in her mood of well-being.
0Theresa Carey, PecariBumping into people0Theresa Carey, Pecari05
“Not as well as I’d hoped,” replied Cepheus evasively as he worked on the shrivelfig. “There were a few more theories than I had prepared for on that exam. I’ll have to be more prepared next time.” Enlisting the help of his peers would certainly help as he didn’t want to yet ask his professor for tutoring. It had something to do with pride and some self-reliance now that he was a bit older.
Potions shouldn’t have been difficult as Transfiguration was difficult for him. He was a pure-blood, the superior kind. He came from an old, prestigious magical family; that ought to have helped him with his work. The sort of magical talent he had seen in others of inferior birth like McLachlan who had muggle-borns in his line did not make sense. Cepheus had trouble wrapping his head around it, and though he did not think often of his unavoidable trouble understanding theory and catching onto advanced spells that seemed to come easily to others, it did come to mind when he was alone and struggling with his coursework.
This, of course, he had told no one and he had been careful not to let his poorer marks show. Being a pure-blood was all about showing the right face to people as Cepheus had learnt with Megan and his family. He was too quick to fret, anyhow; it was still early enough in the term and he was still adjusting. The Advanced class was difficult and it made him glad he had dropped COMC. It was one less class to worry about.
“Are you going to the first match of the year? Crotalus is playing and you ought to come. It’s really a pity Gareth isn’t here anymore. I like to think we could have used his experience.” Cepheus was the Assistant Captain this year, one step closer to becoming the Captain of the team as well as Head Boy. Once he brought up his marks, he would be competition enough for those like Thad, the only other lad he thought cared enough about the position. He liked him well-enough off the pitch, but Cepheus couldn’t be all right to let the position go when he had a legacy to follow. The Quidditch captains he had admired in Crotalus had been, at one point, both Captain and Head Boy and Cepheus was determined to gain the honour himself.
Talk of Quidditch, however, couldn’t be very interesting to a witch who didn’t play herself, so he switched topics to one she might have more to talk about. “How have your Prefect duties been?” he asked as he swept in the now-sliced shrivelfig. “Had any trouble with the younger years?” It wasn’t ideal, where he was, lacking a Prefect badge in his endeavours to becoming Head Boy, but Cepheus thought he could overcome it and prove himself this year. Alex did a much better job than he could have anyway, taking care of the younger ones. Cepheus had two brothers already and they were a handful. “I’ll measure out the porcupine quills and sopophorous beans if you’d like to stir and measure the wormwood.”