Professor Fawcett

November 04, 2013 12:31 AM
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.
 
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0 Professor Fawcett Advanced Potions (6th and 7th Years) 0 Professor Fawcett 1 5


Linus Macaulay

November 06, 2013 4:10 PM
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.
0 Linus Macaulay Loving the Challenge 205 Linus Macaulay 0 5


Michael Grosvenor

November 13, 2013 3:20 PM
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...”
13 Michael Grosvenor Let's mix things up a bit 199 Michael Grosvenor 0 5