Professor Sophie O'Malley

January 13, 2017 4:17 PM
“So… who can tell me something about a special little golden potion by the name of Felix Felicis?” asked Sophie with a mischievous smile. The Advanced class was fairly small, plus the kids here were old enough to function like proper human beings, so she didn’t bother with hand-raising and calling upon people, instead favoring good manners and taking turns. “Good, good,” she said when she had gathered enough correct input to arbitrarily satisfy her. “Well, we aren’t brewing it, but I’m very glad you know about it.”

“Instead, please turn to page 347 in your books to find the Volubilis potion.” Sophie loved the sound of turning pages, especially those turned by students who were confused, exasperated, or amused by her antics. One could tell just from the sound of the paper which of these feelings were present in a student. Personally, she was amused by her own antics, but she almost hoped for exasperation occasionally from the students. She liked to be a little bit irritating once in awhile.

“As you can see, the Volubilis potion, unlike many of the things we brew in the Advanced level, is not either super dangerous or very significantly affective. The drinker of the potion has an altered voice, but that’s it.” The blonde found it could be a solid option for a prank, and there were surely situations of serious nature that utilized it, but overall, it wasn’t the most useful thing. “The good news there is that it means it can be sampled without, like, horrible, awful consequences.”

“So because I trust you, here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll have a little competition!” Sophie beamed. “Brew your very best Volubilis potion, and I - I - will sample it and see whose is the best.” She stressed that point very firmly; there shouldn’t have been any unintended negative side-effects from drinking it, especially if they were diligent and did as they should, as most Advanced students did, but it wasn’t worth risking liability or putting the students in even hypothetical danger.

Sophie pulled a small golden vial from her pants pocket. (Yoga pants with pockets, by the way, were her way of life.) “This will be the victor’s prize!” she declared, raising the vile dramatically. “Felix Felicis - see how I brought that full circle? - goes to the winner, a serving of one. Clark, you obviously couldn’t use it for the Quidditch finals, and no one is allowed to use it in any class except this one.” She glanced around the classroom. Yes, that did include their final exam at the end of the year. “So what are you waiting for? Get to it and don’t poison me.”


OOC: Instructions can be found here. I'll choose the winner OOC at random from the names of those who POST, not just those who are signed up for the class. Note that if there is visually something wrong with the potion, Sophie would definitely not drink it. Haha. Have fun!
Subthreads:
12 Professor Sophie O'Malley The Great Brew-Off of S27! [Years VI and VII] 34 Professor Sophie O'Malley 1 5

Oliver Ferguson II, Aladren

January 13, 2017 11:10 PM
Oliver adored the subject of potions as it had so many wonderful applications in life. Potions could be used to help or to harm. To do things like put oneself asleep or keep oneself awake. They could have affects on the way people thought and felt-something he personally was very interested in. Not the way some people used them, like Great-Grandfather Frank, but in him using them on other people to do what he wanted them to do. Perhaps contribute to mental magic.

What he objected to was Professor O'Malley. He didn't care whom she was married to. For one thing, women of her status had no place working. Secondly, she lack professionalism. He knew she wasn't very old but there were students more mature than she was, himself in particular. Probably because as a pureblood woman she had not been trained to be in the professional world.

Not to mention she had to get them all excited, that they'd be brewing something truly amazing, the Felix Felices potion. What a challenge! Then she turned around and told them they'd be doing the Volubis potion instead! He flipped through the pages in clear annoyance. Honestly, he was Oliver Patrick Ferguson II and some woman had no business messing with him even if she was a professor and a pureblood and married to someone whose mother had been a Brockert. Which had to be how she got this job in the first place since she acted like a teenager. If he remembered his genealogy correctly Ryan O'Malley's mother was Headmaster Brockert's first cousin. Nepotism all the way.

However, he perked up slightly when she mentioned competiton. Okay, Oliver rarely felt the need to compete, as he knew he was better than everyone else so he didn't really see the need to prove it. Unless of course, he felt the need to put people-such as Clark-in their place. (He grudgingly admitted the other boy was a good Seeker but that wasn't something that mattered) Still, an opportunity to show his dominance over his classmates.

And once he saw the prize, well that happened to be deservedly his. Nobody else deserved the luck, they'd only squander it foolishly. Like on stupid stuff like their love lives and whatnot,

Once they were released to work, Oliver set about brewing the initial ingredients stirring until it turned the desired red then green and added the honeywater. Meticulously, he followed the potion step by step until he had the finished project ready to go.
11 Oliver Ferguson II, Aladren This is so mine 278 Oliver Ferguson II, Aladren 0 5


Olivier Westley, Crotalus

January 18, 2017 4:12 AM
To brew this potion, one has to heat the initial mix of ingredients until it turns red, then green.

Red had never been a favourite colour of his, it reminded him too much of anger. Olivier didn’t like to be angry, anger was harmful. He could feel upset, he could feel annoyed and irritated, but he didn’t like to feel angry. The last time he had been angry, he’d made a terrible mistake and let his cover slip. But before that, before that he didn’t think he could remember the last time he’d been angry before that. He could remember feeling hurt and confused, he could remember sadness and frustration, but he couldn’t remember true anger.

Next, the potion-maker has to add Honeywater until the liquid turns pink.

He tipped his vial of Honeywater over his cauldron, slowly allowing the ingredient to dribble into what he had of the potion so far. Professor O’Malley had been wrong. There were more uses for the Volubilis potion, more than simply turning one’s voice to a silly sound. He hadn’t raised his hand to correct her, couldn’t be seen as too smart, couldn’t have his classmates question why he hadn’t been placed in Aladren besides a simple inclination towards adherence to the rules. Perhaps he needed to taste some of that Honeywater, sweeten his mind a little—he was already too bitter and it was only the first class of the day.

The brew has to be heated again, this time until it turns orange.

Olivier’s wand increased the intensity of the flame his cauldron sat on, effectively heating the potion and he waited. Wasn’t everything always a waiting game? He’d waited for his piano lessons, he’d waited for his teacher to return, he’d waited to go to school, he was waiting for orange, he was waiting for graduation, he was waiting for his cottage far away from other people, for his three room little sanctuary containing only books and a piano. And he probably wasn’t the only one waiting either.

When mint sprigs are added, the potion turns into a shade of green.

Green was envy, another emotion Olivier wasn’t sure he had ever felt. Perhaps he had staunched the memory of feeling envious, he had better things to associate the colour with, after all. Thinking about the lack of one’s friends even when one was as secretly unsociable as Olivier was, was never a fun thing to do. What did Jacob Manger have that he didn’t? Besides being a mythical Teppenpaw… But green was also the plants in Professor Xavier’s greenhouses, the colour of the grasses when he and Lena used to play by the cliffs as children, the colour of his room when he’d been a child.

The potion has to be heated once more, until it turns blue.

He increased the intensity of the fire and waited, his eyes searching the green pool before him for calming blue. Relaxation, the sky, his favourite bedspread, his sister’s House, Clark’s House. Olivier’s distracted thought caused him to rapidly turn the heat up, the surge warming him too much as he stepped back a bit before moving to turn it down. A perfect blue.

Then, more mint sprigs are to be added. By this time the potion should be have turned pink again.

The mint sprigs tickled his nose as he broke them up to be mixed in with the rest of the ingredients. As the potion cooled and the mint was added, it became a similar shade of pink, the sort which young witches applied to their cheeks in the hope wizards would think them bashful and shy. No, Olivier was not a fan of pink. Mint, though, he could stand.

Stewed Mandrake is to be added next, at which point the potion turns orange.

As he reached for his jar of Stewed Mandrake, he remembered far too easily stories of his parents’ Hogwarts days re-potting Mandrakes and having to wear dreadfully used earmuffs to protect themselves from being sent to the Hospital Wing. Olivier had never re-potted Mandrakes. Perhaps Professor Xavier was against them or perhaps the school board didn’t want to liability. Either way, Olivier was glad. Not just because he didn’t have to wear the earmuffs or because he didn’t have to hear the horrible screeching sound muffled through the ugly protection, but because there was a part of him that wondered if he wouldn’t be okay using Stewed Mandrake in a potion if he’d met the real thing.

A small amount of Syrup of Hellebore should be added next, turning the potion blue.

Syrup of Hellebore, used by his parents on him and Lena when they were younger as a cure-all for some of the issues plaguing the people who lived in the village near them. Horrible smell to it, and Olivier didn’t trust the plant itself. He had no qualms milking it for every last drop to create syrup though he did wonder after the well-being of the Mandrakes which were stewed in large vats to create potions ingredients for students and potioneers everywhere.

To finish the brew, one has to heat the potion until it's red and heat it some more until it turns a pleasant yellow.

The rest was a cake walk, he sat with his wand, heating and heating until the potion changed colour again to that horrible red from earlier which reminded him of one of his biggest regrets. Regret that he hadn’t gotten his temper in check, regret that he had let something so primal best him, regret that he hadn’t been able to easily dismiss the rage that consumed him. Regret for that one moment when he had been no better than his simpering, primal classmates. The potion turned yellow, and Olivier relaxed.

Once finished, the potion should release some sparks.

Sparks. He was done.
10 Olivier Westley, Crotalus Kaleidoscope 282 Olivier Westley, Crotalus 0 5

Savannah Brockert, Teppenpaw

January 29, 2017 4:44 PM
Despite the fact that her two favorite people were not taking the class, Savannah really loved Advanced Potions. She enjoyed the brewing process, a feeling of creating, just as she'd always loved crafting. The Teppenpaw might even consider it soothing except that she never really had a feeling of needing to be soothed as she generally had it pretty good. It wasn't her RATS year and she had few stressors. She even had a boyfriend and therefore, wasn't worrying about betrothals at this point.

Plus, Chaslyn who did seem to need that feeling from what Savannah gathered, didn't seem to find it such. Of course, different people found different things relaxing. Scarlett, for example, found brewing potions utterly boring. Besides, she didn't think the word relaxing was in her cousin's vocabulary.

She pushed all other thoughts out of her head as Sophie began the lesson. Just because Sophie was family-or acted in a way other students might find odd or unprofessional- didn't mean Savannah didn't have to treat her with respect. In fact, she had to treat her with more or it could get really awkward. Besides, she was a professor who did make people take notice.

However, the sixth year tried not to frown when the assignment was announced. Savannah was not an especially competitive person but she didn't have any sort of moral objection-though forced competiton was never a good thing- to it either. Nor was she worried about her chances of winning. She was perfectly capable of brewing the Volubilis potion and didn't feel that she would be all that upset about losing.

What she was worried about was Chaslyn. She glanced over at the Crotalus.If there was a competition, her cousin needed to win it. Not the way some people did, who were naturally competitive, but because if Aunt Jillian found out there was a competition and found out Chaslyn didn't win it, it would be a disaster. Not that Savannah knew how her aunt would find out, as she wasn't going to tell her and she didn't really think Sophie would either. Of course, it was possible that Chaslyn would do herself in. She seemed programmed to.

Savannah sighed. Right now, she couldn't think about this. She had a potion to brew.
11 Savannah Brockert, Teppenpaw Trying not to worry 286 Savannah Brockert, Teppenpaw 0 5