Use what you Know

Hitame had her head supported on her arm, which meant that she was bored. She would only go into that position if she was completely bored, and that was very often. Not many things entertained or got her attention anymore, almost nothing really. Of course she would have to at least look like she was paying attention in the class, but it was very unlikely. She only picked up her head, for a moment, when she heard other students come in. The first one was a boy, if she wasn't mistaken he was a Ravenclaw. She wasn't one to pay much attention to anything or anyone for more than a mere moment if she wasn't really interested, so she lowered her gaze from the boy back to the table where she had placed her head again.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, the Ravenclaw boy had walked up to her. She blinked a couple of times before smiling back at the boy and watching him as he sat down next to her. She giggled a little when she heard him say bonjour. It wasn't because of the way he said it, and she wasn't trying to be mean either. She just thought the word sounded funny. Bonjour, bonjour... she repeated in her mind, internally laughing at the word.

Now getting a good look at the boy, Hitame could tell that he was older than she was. By how much she couldn't tell, but as long as she knew he was older than her, she was fine. She remembered that she hadn't introduced herself and she grinned at him. "Hello Julien." she said. "I'm Hitame." the young Gryffindor told him happily. She seemed alot more happy than she felt, and maybe that was a good thing. Maybe if she acted happy she would eventually feel that way.

Keith was actually looking forward to potions.

Sure he had missed much of the class last year (he had attended one, hadn't he? At least. Maybe two) but he had been working on Spice, which he was sure would count as extra-credit if it weren't highly illegal and likely to get him thrown into azkaban.

Oh well. Happy thoughts, Keith. Happy thoughts.

Plus, there was the added bonus of their new potions professor, who was none other than...drumroll please...Amelia Lyons! Keith had known her somewhat from previous years at Hogwarts. The girl was smart, rule abiding, and actually pretty cool when you got right down to it, but in social situations?

Well. To say she was kind of a mess was putting it lightly. Great actress though. She hid it well. Too bad he was so smart, or he might've missed it. (Or no, maybe not. Keith had learned that loners, something Amelia definitely was, generally had very few social skills - whether this was the cause or effect of their loner-ness Keith had yet to discover - he would've figure it out eventually)

His plan was simple. Go on the attack. Initiate conversation. Get her uncomfortable, out of her element, unfocused. Questions. Lots of questions. Force her to react, weaken her self confidence - and there was a good chance he was getting out of today's class with absolutely no homework.

Keith had a brief internal debate about whether it was morally and ethically sound to manipulate a professor like this (especially a professor that he had once counted some sort of friend) but then the rest of his brain told the moral and ethical parts to shut up and sit down and that was that.

"Professor!" Keith said, entering the room with a cocky swagger and pointing towards Amelia. A quick scan of the room revealed that Wally was sitting alone, so he tossed his bag onto her nearest desk with a nod. "Great to see you again!" He said, turning back to Amelia and beaming. "Not late am I? It's kind of my bad habit."

Alice liked to watch her feet move as she walked, and concentrate on walking. Imagine, those two little things got people all over the world. She really concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, feeling her hip jut out slightly as she did,and then her other foot swinging around to place in front of the other. The way her foot rolled from heel to toe, lifted, her calves tightening and loosening.

Spectacular.

She bumped into someone in front of her and jolted, glancing up to see a boy angrily turning around. She said, "I'm sorry, didn't see you there. Have a good day," and walked on, as the boy stared after her. She reached up and brushed her bangs to the side, getting excited for potions. It was her best subject by far. She was looking forward to it.

She walked in and glanced around, blinking. She saw Hitame there, sitting with some Ravenclaw boy, but Alice did not know anyone else really, so she sat herself next to a Slytherin boy, giving him a brief smile before taking out her things.

At first, Millie hadn’t noticed that she’d elected to sit next to someone. It took a few long minutes of staring at a few vials of bright fuchsia-coloured potions before she realised there was a presence beside her. Upon that realisation she lifted her head from her arms and brought her eyes around to observe her table partner. She blinked a few times and then looked down at his shoes. Millie cocked her head to the side, her lips parting and forming a little ‘o’ before she lifted her gaze and smiled at her table partner. She then took in everything else about him, her fingers beginning to drum absent mindedly on the table top. Then finally, to bring her bizarre ritual to a close, Millie leaned over, rose up slightly and licked the left side of his face, from his jaw to his temple. Millie gasped dramatically and covered her mouth to stifle the giggles erupting from within her. She averted her eyes and sat back down, letting herself giggle for few moments before completely sobering.

She bounced a little in her seat, her hand coming to fall back onto the table with an audible thump. Her hair bounced on her shoulders and she shifted her chair closer to the Slytherin’s. The chair scraped loudly against the cobbled floor and Millie looked down, parting her knees so she could look at the feet of the chair. She shushed it loudly and brought her knees together again before reaching over poking the Slytherin in the arm. Then she did it again, again, again and, just to add insult to injury, again!

“You taste like lemon!” Millie informed the boy with bright, wide eyes. “Lemon! That can be your nickname because you taste like lemon and that makes sense. I like lemon. Can I lick your other cheek to see if that tastes like lime?” Millie looked at the boy hopefully before taking a brightly coloured box from her robes and holding it between them. “Do you want a bean?! Granted, I think I ate all the good ones. I can tell, you know, which ones are the bad ones. Ooh, this one looks yummy.” Millie fished an orange bean out of the box and held it out for him. “Try it. Trust me. I’ll have half! Have you ever played the game where someone has chocolate between their teeth, they have one end and then you bite the other and you have to break it? Well, you don’t have to use chocolate but chocolate tastes lovely! Do you like chocolate - I like chocolate? Oooh! Have you ever had, uhm. Wait no...no...it’s gone. Darn. Well never mind I’ll remember soon enough. Ooh! Pick a rune!”

Millie put the box on the table and grabbed her bag underneath the desk. From it she took her drawstring bag that was simply teaming with runes. She opened it up and shook it lightly before holding it out to him. “Go on! It’ll be fun! I’ll even pick one! Have you played Scrabble before? So fun. Uuuuhm... What about Quidditch? What’s your favourite team? Oh! And I think you should stay away from the Death Eaters.” At this, Millie’s tone lowered with her volume and her face grew serious. “You won’t find what you seek with them. Only pain.” Millie tipped her head to the side again and her face brightened once more. She shook the back and righted her head before grinning widely at him. “Come on, come on! Take one!”

Soon enough, Millie noticed that she had sat herself next to Damien. He continued to stare at her even after she noticed him. He wanted to be deliberately rude anyway. It was starting to irk him, though, that the girl returned his stare boldly, as if he failed in his attempt to intimidate. He did. He failed badly. In fact, he suddenly became the initimated one. The lick was too sudden, and Damien jumped out of his seat, only to collapsed to the floor, when that happened. With his elbows supporting him as his back was against the floor, Damien did not rush to stand up. What was more urgent was the need to rub furiously against the part of his face that had been contaminated. If not for his mild obsessive compulsive disorder, he would probably have wiped that side of his face, and stood up immediately. Instead, he was rubbing at it with such ferocity, as if the skin was going to come off if he continued with it for a few more minutes. As if his hand was insufficient, Damien began to rub the side of his face against his shoulder, where the robes was expected to complete the job. Once that was done, Damien jumped up, grabbed his chair back to an upright position, and glared at Millie.

"WHAT THE F-", and he paused, as if keeping the last word inside him, choking it back. Damien reminded himself that he was not to appear so frantically affected, although what had transpired had already failed, if that was his intention. Inhaling and exhaling very deeply, he turned away from the girl and plopped himself hard back on the seat, wincing a little as the bone of his arse slammed against the hard seat. Just as he was about to calm himself down, he noticed that Millie's seat had been moved closer to his. Scowling, he turned, only to be attacked with pokes at his arm. "WHAT ARE YOU ON?!" And then he shut it mouth immediately. He could certainly do without other people's attention to his current plight. The girl continued to talk on, and on, and Damien did not pay attention to her words until she asked if she could lick his other cheek. At that, his hands rushed to his face, covering as much as they could. Turning to the girl, he mouthed a NO. He was extremely close to promising that he would quit sneering or smirking or even staring at her, if only she would lay off touching or licking him. Suddenly, it made him ache for Roxi a lot more. If it was going to be a Gryffindor, at least send him one that he had learnt, though it was not easy to, tolerate. Tolerate was an understatement, but he really did not want to think of the more now.

Another person came to sit on the other side of him, and Damien turned with hopeful eyes for a saving grace, only to find Alice Longbottom smiling before she turned away. Every part of him groaned internally. What was this, really, a Gryffindor class? From the in-betweens of his fingers, Damien's eyes trained themselves on Millie, watching her talk and protecting himself should she launch another attack at him. He rolled his eyes when Millie made what sounded like some advice for him. After all, they all sounded like poppycock to him. He certainly could not take her words seriously. Damien ignored Millie's questions, but found himself required to play along with whatever foolish game she was playing now. Worried that she would lick him again if he did not patronise her, Damien reached into the bag, quickly picked one, and threw it on the space on the table that was in front of the Gryffindor girl.

"Bonjour, Hitame." Julien repeated his greeting, curious as to what had tickled the girl, who had giggled after he greeted her. And that was why he repeated his greeting, to see what was so funny about it. Shrugging, he continued, "that's an interesting name. It's ... " He wondered at an appropriate word. "...interesting." Well, at least he tried. "It's not English, is it?" He asked curiously.

And then, a younger Ravenclaw, one he recognised from having seen him a couple of times in the common room, entered the class. Julien cocked his head in remembrance of it, and observed the boy who had swaggered into the classroom and greeted the Professor like a friend. It was odd, Julien thought. He was not acquainted with Amelia despite being closer to her age. Perhaps he was more aloof than he thought himself to be. After all, almost every existing Ravenclaw knew who Keith was. But perhaps less could say the same about Julien.

Julien took his books out and placed them neatly on the table, eager for the lesson to begin. And then, there was a sudden crash at the back of the classroom. Raising both eyebrows, he turned his head and strained to see that the Slytherin boy of which he had admired the face of, had fell to the ground. The sight of it was hilarious. Julien began to snicker. Some people had turned to do the same too, and he felt slightly, only slightly, sorry for Damien, who looked pathetic trying to rub at himself. Julien only turned back to the front of the class when Damien sat himself back up. And then he turned to Hitame.

"Have they taken anything from you? Muggle stuffs?" He was ready with his complains if she replied with a positive.

The minutes before class was set to start were ticking away all too quickly for Amelia’s liking, and as more students began filing into the room, she could feel herself growing more anxious. Being around other people had always made Amelia nervous, which ultimately led to her uncertainty in having taken this job in the first place. Yes, she knew she was capable of teaching the material; she had been tutoring one-on-one for almost the entire time she had been a student of Hogwarts. But a large group of rowdy students that had once been her peers?

What the hell did I get myself into?

Some of the students were polite enough. Julien and Hitame, both of whom she recognized, greeted her with what seemed like respectful and sincere words of welcome, which should have bolstered Amelia’s confidence, but Millie’s entrance was a distraction from any attempt she might have made to feel better. The Gryffindor girl was someone Amelia recognized, and without trying to, immediately pegged as someone she would have to watch out for. Amelia had told herself she wasn’t going to judge her students too harshly based on what she had known about them when they were peers, but in Millie’s case, Amelia would make an exception. Besides, the Gryffindor girl had basically encapsulated her personality into the first few seconds of her entrance into the classroom – loud, obnoxious, completely without a verbal filter – so Amelia really didn’t need to rely on what she already knew.

The panic was starting to come on stronger now, and Amelia knew she had to say something to quiet the chaos that Millie was likely to cause. But what? How did Doyle usually handle these situations? No. Not Doyle. He would just insult everyone in sight and belittle them until they shut up or left. That wasn’t what she wanted for her classroom, was it?

Well… no, but it would certainly make things easier. Suddenly, Amelia was all too aware of why the headmaster might have chosen the tactics he did.

“Good morning, Miss Finnigan,” Amelia said, keeping her voice level and at a normal volume to try to deescalate the situation, “If you could please just- we’ll get to addressing this new hierarchy later and if you could just sit- well, yes, okay, then,” Amelia trailed off as Millie took a seat next to Damien.

Feeling the pressure coming down on her as the classroom got louder, Amelia raised a hand to her face and covered her eyes, giving herself a few seconds of mock solitude to collect herself. Her heart was racing, her mind was spinning, and her flight response was urging her to get out as soon as possible. But all of these would have to be controlled if she was going to lead this class. It seemed like an overwhelming number of hurdles to overcome just to say she was a professor of Hogwarts. Was that title really worth all the trouble?

I guess we’ll find ou-

Amelia’s silent internal reassurances were interrupted abruptly when she heard a familiar voice echoing off the stone walls of the dungeon, and as her eyes flickered upward, they came to rest on Keith Nicholas. He was walking up through the rows of desk and pointing at her as though expecting her to do the other half of some kind of secret handshake, and after a brief moment of confusion, Amelia gave a lighthearted roll of her eyes and gave the younger boy a knowing smile. Keith was always one for the dramatic, and he had a very specific wit about him that would not go wasted in her classroom, Amelia knew.

“No, Keith, you are not late,” Amelia placated, “And as far as your bad habits are concerned, that might be one of the more tame, from what I hear,” she added, dropping her voice for this last part. She wasn’t gossiping, per say, but rather letting Keith know that she wasn’t oblivious to the student gossip just because she was now a professor. Maybe Amelia having this knowledge – although it was very, very vague – would keep Keith at least partially in line in her class.

But as soon as Amelia had had this slightly reassuring thought, there was a crash from the back of the room and Amelia’s head snapped up toward the noise to find Damien sprawled on the ground next to an overturned chair, glaring at Millie and starting a question that Amelia sincerely hoped he wouldn’t finish. Amelia’s eyes were wide as dinner plates as she watched Damien scrubbing the side of his cheek, first with his hand and then his robes, getting up only after his cheek was red and raw. Amelia didn’t know what had happened, but Damien seemed immensely displeased, Millie seemed to be utterly exuberant, and the rest of the class was caught up in watching whatever it was that had happened.

Or, rather, was happening, because as soon as Damien got back into his seat, Millie began poking him, running her mouth a mile a minute about whatever seemed to come into her head, and it was all Amelia could do to keep from cursing her. Amelia was fairly certain she had never voluntarily said that much in the last year, much less in one minute, and Damien seemed equally annoyed.

Taking a deep breath, Amelia knew it was time to step in and put a stop to the chaos, and surprisingly, the absolute need to intervene had finally given her the calm she needed to start the lesson. Amelia always responded best under pressure, which is perhaps why she had flourished in her household while her older brother had chosen to… chosen an alternative route. Without giving her new students any more time to find out where the line was in her classroom, Amelia decided it was time to draw one definitively.

“Protego!” Amelia said firmly, having pulled her wand from the pocket of her jacket and pointed it between Damien and Millie. As soon as the spell was spoken, an invisible shield appeared between the two of them, effectively solving at least one of her present problems.

“That will not be a permanent solution, but for now, it will have to suffice,” Amelia said authoritatively, looking both at Millie and Damien, “I can’t be casting protective spells between the two of you all year, so either you will learn to tolerate one another or sit far enough apart in my classroom so the former will not be necessary.”After a few more seconds of pointedly looking at the Gryffindor/Slytherin pair, Amelia turned to the class at large.

“Some of you may already be familiar with me from our time at Hogwarts. Others among you may not even know we once shared these hallways,” Amelia added, recognizing full well that her efforts to remain a wallflower while at Hogwarts would have paid off in the case of some of her new students.

“For those of you who do not know me, my name is Amelia Lyons, newly Professor Lyons,” she added, the introduction still feeling strange on her tongue, “In this classroom, I will demand an atmosphere of mutual respect, regardless of the relationships or rivalries you may hold outside of it. I also expect that you will treat me with the respect worthy of my role as your professor. Anyone choosing not to follow these few simple guidelines at any point in the semester will be asked to leave and receive an incomplete for that day’s work. In return, I will respect you as an autonomous student of potions, in which I hope you will learn something of value.

“Any questions?” Amelia asked, her heart thumping wildly in her chest, but focusing hard on not letting that show. She had mostly been just running on an adrenaline high after having to deal with the Mille/Damien situation, but now with a class full of students staring at her, the full extent of the situation was starting to creep back in. Her best bet was to just keep pushing forward until the adrenaline let up and hope she didn’t collapse into a puddle of goo afterward.

“Today’s lesson,” Amelia continued before she could think better of it, “Will be a test of your basic abilities as potioneers. Many regard potions to be nothing more than glorified cooking, but I will assure you, the two are very distinct pursuits. Being able to make a particular potion could one day save your life or drastically improve your situation; being able to make a soufflé, on the other hand, is by no means a necessary life skill.”

“Around the room,” Professor Lyons persisted with a gesture to indicate the objects to which she would not refer, “Are a series of clear, numbered containers. Inside each container is an ingredient used in the potions we will be making this term. They are unlabeled, and for good reason. Your task today will be to walk around the room and identify, as best you are able, which ingredient you are looking at.”

“This task is meant to highlight the usefulness of being able to identify an ingredient if it does not come pre-packaged and labeled for you in a potions kit from the apothecary. Sometime in your life, you may find yourself in a situation where one must grow or obtain their own ingredients, and being able to identify them based on sensory input alone will be of the utmost importance.”

“You will divide yourselves into pairs and work together to walk around the room and record what you think is in each container. There are ten containers in all. You are to pair yourself with a student that is not in your year, so that knowledge may be shared between classes. You are free to discuss with your partner any ideas you may have, but please do not confer with other partnerships or consult your textbook. This is meant to be a litmus test of the knowledge you have acquired up to this point, not a determination of how well you can read.”

“If there are no questions, you may partner yourselves and begin,” Amelia concluded, gesturing to give them the go-ahead to begin, “If you should have need of me, I will be around.”

((Note: I am intentionally not describing what is in each box. That is for you to do. Please note which box you are looking at in your roleplay for the sake of consistency (i.e. one group says there is a leafy vegetable in box 3, then someone else says there is a granular substance in box 3 - that doesn't make sense. Make sure you read the posts of others to maintain the storyline. Creativity, accuracy, and strong roleplaying will be rewarded.))

As Wally listened to their task, she realized she had this in the bag. She had every ingredient she had ever come across memorized, as well as some she had never seen, and she knew its properties, general description, and what ingredients that it bonded to and worked best with. This was right down her alley, and she had it down.

But Lyons ruined it by stating they needed to be in pairs. Wally shrugged it off, assuming Keith would pair up with her- especially because he knew about her encyclopedic mind when it came to Potions ingredients. And then Lyons further burst Wally's bubble by saying that the partner that each person chose could not be from their same year.

"Balls," she said in a flat tone, looking around. Everybody began to get up around her, but she remained sitting. The liklihood anyone would notice the short girl needed a partner was slim. If everyone else paired up, she would elect to work alone... and she would still win.

Sam sighed as the teacher set out the instructions, a distinct feeling of irritation rising inside of him as he realised that he would have to partner with someone in a lower year than him. Scanning the room he quickly made up his mind as to who would be the most helpful (no one) so he settled for someone he considered to be the most fun.

"I call dibs on Keith," he shouted across the room to the professor, rising in his seat and crossing the room quickly to grab.... box 6 seemed to be making some sort of noise, so naturally that was the best one to go with.

With a grunt he lifted the box up and carried it to the desk Keith was sitting at, slamming it down in front of him, causing the desk to tremble a little, and the scrabbling noise inside to intensify.

"This one sounds the most interesting, but I don't want to get my hands dirty, so you can try it out, youngin," he said gesturing for Keith to stick his hands in the box and feel about for him. "I'll write down what you say, of course," he said, turning in his chair and summoning his stuff across the room to the desk the two boys were now invariably seated at.

((I was thinking some sort of small insect or something *Shrugs*))

Damien seemed to overreact a little too much; just a touch too much. Millie was willing to let all of it slide though because it was those erratic responses that amused her so. She giggled to herself and opened her mouth to ask Damien something else when a beam of bright blue-white light shot between them. Millie gasped, her grasp tightening on her bag of runes, and a delighted smile slowly spread across her face. Millie brought her spare hand up and she slapped it against the shield with as much power as she could muster in her left arm. Ripples of magic spread out from where her hand came in contact with the firm, almost misty, wall of magic between herself and Damien. She laughed loudly and brought her hand back before banging the shield again. She grinned as the ripples danced across the shield once more and decisively, Millie jumped to her feet.

“Damien, my love, we cannot be together anymore! The potions mistress has separated us forever!” Millie made a face of regret and leaned forward, pressing her lips against the shield. It did much the same as a misted window. It held the imprint of her lips before the heat fell away and it became part of the shield once more. “Never mind I’ll find someone like you!” She pretended to sob and threw her arm over her eyes before turning around and flying down the aisle towards the little Ravenclaw she’d spotted earlier. “Small child!” Millie exclaimed, bouncing over to where the little Ravenclaw was sat. “Will you brave all haste and run across the room, aiming vaguely for the groin area of one Samuel Grigori with either your fist or your foot and fetch us a box to do this lovely little task with? Then I’ll give you a bean,” Millie held up her box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans and grinned brightly at the girl. “Hop to it, chick!”