Lesson 4- N.E.W.T. Level

Bloody hell, he came here only to be the Headmaster, and to think that he had almost been denied that promise, and now he is limping to the Dungeons to teach Potions... all over again, to hormone raging brats who have absolutely no interest in these bottles filled with colorful liquids. Yes, he had been some sort of puppet Headmaster, but he did actually have far more authority than anyone thought, which made him a powerful nemesis to those who wanted to control him, but more on that later, right? He sat on top of his desk, starting to play with his cane, waiting for the brats to arrive.

That morning, Julia had forced herself to get out of bed at the correct time, meaning that she had to almost literally drag herself to the Potions classroom. Because it was located in the Dungeons, it wasn't too long of a walk from her dormitories to the class. But, still, she didn't feel like going to class early in the morning, though she found Potions to be somewhat of an interesting and fun class. Holding her books to her side, Julia opened the door to realize that she was the first student in the classroom- a very rare occasion for Julia. She looked over at Headmaster Doyle with a slight smile, "Good morning, sir," She greeted, finding a seat in the front of the room. She took out the supplies she would need for the class and waited for the lesson to begin.

Amelia arrived to the potions dungeon, for once not the first to arrive. A girl she recognized as Julia Traverse, one of Elijah's many adoring women, was sitting in the front of the room. Although Amelia had had a few brief interactions with the Slytherin girl, she would not have considered them close by any means, and thus she did not feel any shame in taking a seat at a table on the opposite side of the room from Julia.

The professor, as usual, was sitting at the head of the classroom, entertaining himself with his cane and sporting a generally bemused expression, as though he were thinking of several witty comments with which to begin today's lesson. Mentally preparing herself if any of said comments should be about her, Amelia set down her bag and took out her potions kit and cauldron in preparation for today's lesson.

Sally was so tired as she walked into Potions class and frowned as not many students have shown up yet. "Good morning Sir." she said nodding a hello to Headmaster Doyle. She took a seat near the other Slytherin girl but still away from her as well. Making sure she was away from both girls in the clas. She knew neither of them and really didnt feel like talking to neither of them as well. She liked Potions class pretty well but she was really tired today and wanted to take a nap before class but decided against so not to get points taken away from Slytherin

Faylen walked in to the deary classroom, the teacher he saw was aparent that he didnt about teaching or even teaching his own students. What a patheic teacher he thought to himself and walked to the back to take a seat in the corner. He was tired but he had actually like potions but it seemed to him that the proffessor wasnt going to be much help to him. Sitting back in his chair he watched the girls that were in the classroom already. None of them being any of his taste he ignored them all thinking if he should take what the muggles a quick cat nap.

''I presume all of you have been in love at least once... no, wait... what am I saying, I presume all of you have had sex by now, in any form, and I know that you have been in love, that is for sure. Now, that moronic feeling you get when you are love is something magic has learned to control. Unlike Muggle chemistry or biology, our discipline had managed to drill into that emotion and simulate everything, well... almost everything, connected to it. The only difference is that it is artificial and that it has an expiry date, although, doesn't actual love too? I presume you've fallen in and out of love more times than I have changed my socks, and I do it every day... But, the debate on love is something you should go and discuss on... perhaps... Herbology. This class is much more serious. Today's topic, and probably for the next couple of classes, will be Amortentia, the strongest love potion. Now, I presume you all know that is smells different and all that stuff, so I am not going to waste your time and, what is most important, my breath on explaining the obvious to you. So, you will draw out your textbooks and scroll through the ingredients and try to make the best love potion you can. Of course, what you will do with it is still a secret, but it won't be anything... illegal. This class marks the beginning of our research about Advanced potions, which will, in due time, continue with more complex potions, but more on that later. Now, do begin and if you have any questions... I'm open until 19:00'', he explained.

Jack walked in late, her plan to try to behave get along with the professor disappearing the second he said that they had all been in love. She promptly snorted- Jack, feelings of affection, weakness, touching... Never had those words ever been in a sentence together. She glanced up at the professor and said, "Sorry, sir, for the tardiness and the scoffing. I just found it funny, once again, that people do waste their time on that sort of crap."

She looked up as she carefully sat in her usual spot in the back to avoid detection from the overachievers and snobs. Oh boy, love potions. Just what this hormone-school needed. Though she doubted it would affect her much. No one would be dumping any in her goblet, and she had no use for it... Hmmm, maybe she could use it for Wheezes... She began to pour over her book...

Amelia was not at all disappointed when the professor decided to skip the information part of today's lesson and skip ahead to the practical. It seemed to Amelia that most students were already acquainted with amortentia, and thus did not need the textbook definition nor the falling in love nonsense. Amelia could not have agreed more with the professor's analysis of the frivolity of love, and she was equally quick to dismiss the idea altogether. If there was ever an irrational thought that had proliferated altogether father than it should have, it was love.

Taking out her textbook, Amelia began running her finger down the list of ingredients. According to Arthur, whom she had somehow managed to have a cordial conversation with when she had gone to pick up an addition potions kit, the instructions in her book were somewhat lacking, and she had added a few notes to the bottom of the page after speaking with him. She assumed that since the headmaster was Arthur’s mentor that the additions would not be frowned upon, and thus she started taking out all of the ingredients – including the additional ones – and began sorting them into piles based on whether they needed to be chopped, sliced, crushed, or filleted.

Despite the fact that the Slytherin House was literally right down the corridor, Ariel was late. He’d been busy, that was all he was going to say. There were no wind-related hair injuries today, though. He was prim, proper and everything was in its place, including his hair. Potions didn’t really stimulate Ariel. He found it more of a mundane class. He didn’t appreciate the ‘subtle art’ and he was the first to admit it. Still, that didn’t mean he was under prepared. When he entered, a few people were already beginning to work. That waste of skin was sleeping and the other two Slytherin girls, Sarah and Jessica or something, were just sat there.

Ariel was late, yes, but he knew exactly what they were making. Amelia was kind enough to display what ingredients she was using and after quickly identifying them, Ariel understood what they were making. Love Potion.

Ariel pulled each finger of his gloves and tugged them off. He placed them together and crossed his arms. He walked down the middle aisle, extending his arm when he got to Faylen. He roughly hit the slumbering fool around the back of the head with the gloves and continued on, deciding to take a place beside Amelia who seemed to be, once again, the most agreeable person in the class. He didn’t want to sit with Sadie, Jenny or the idiot and he didn’t want to go near the Gryffindor particularly. She looked like she’d just rolled out of bed. Amelia was a nice compliment to himself and at least he could actually remember her name. That was a plus.

Remaining standing was easier when potion making. It was no different to cooking really. You had to put things in at a specific time, stir however many times and watch it until it was ready. Potions were like risottos only less stirring but you still couldn’t leave them to their own devices for long. Ariel set up the cauldron, and took his box of ingredients out. He put it on the table and opened it up, pushing it out. It worked much the same as one of those cheap, portable jewellery boxes. It had levels and such with different compartments for different bits. He took out the ingredients needed and didn’t’ realise until he checked the vials that he didn’t have peppermint. Well he did have but it was the peppermint he’d had had gone in his tea that same morning during breakfast.

Ariel frowned slightly before relaxing his features. It would be alright. He’d just borrow some of Amelia’s ingredients. If she let him of course. Wait, of course she would. Ariel opened his mouth but quickly closed it again, turning his head back to his ingredients. You may as well be polite, Ari. A little voice said in the back of his mind.

Ariel huffed quietly to himself and wondered idly why he couldn’t just have coffee like everyone else. Oh wait, because the House Elves made it and those lazy buggers that couldn’t get off of their arses to make their own food and drinks drank it. In essence he was just as bad, needing to borrow ingredients, but he’d pay her back, not necessarily in peppermint though. Ariel sighed and looked at the Ravenclaw, “You wouldn’t happen to have any spare peppermint would you?” He asked. “Mine went in my tea so now I’m without.”

Having organized her workspace, Amelia was now working on plucking the chalky spheres off a branch of starthistle, her fingers getting progressively dustier as she went. She had already set her cauldron up above a fresh fire, and while she waited for the water to boil, she had set herself to the task of prepping the ingredients. The starthistle was the lead appealing of the tasks, but it was also one of the first ingredients that needed to be added, and thus she was diligently at work on it when there was movement on the other end of the table she was using.

Looking up from her work, Amelia was once again surprised to see Ariel taking a place beside her in class. He had already taken up residence beside her once before in a classroom, which had seemed just as odd then as it did now. The boy walked with an air of superiority and dressed as though he came from wealth. He rarely seemed awkward or out of place, despite his obvious differences from his peers. He did have uncommon habits of self-preening considering his gender, but Amelia wasn’t much to stereotype, mostly because stereotypes reminded her a lot of guesses made on faulty logic. It was merely an observation she made that put Ariel outside the norm.

Although he had taken up residence at the same table as her, Ariel made no move to greet her, and Amelia took this as a dismissal to return to her work. She could feel the table move slightly when the Slytherin boy set his potions kit on it, and heard the clicking as he opened the case to reveal the compartments within. Her fingers were working quickly over the tiny spheres, careful not to crush them until they got to the cutting board, lest she lost part of her not inexpensive ingredient. She was just pulling the last few polyps she would need when Ariel spoke up beside her, causing her to drop the branch on the table and look up with an expression akin to deer in the headlights.

“Peppermint,” Amelia repeated, glancing at her kit to spot the aforementioned – and echoed – ingredient before turning her attention back to Ariel, “Yes. Yes, I suppose I could spare some,” Amelia answered after a few seconds’ delay, reaching her spindly fingers toward the jar and extending it toward Ariel.

Amelia understood her classmate to be a snarky, self-focused individual without much tact – or a filter for that matter – but he had never personally affronted her. Perhaps she ought to have taken his torture of her classmates more personally, but as Amelia wasn’t actually all that close to any of them either, she had a harder time sympathizing. Besides, it was easier for her to just give Ariel what he wanted and get back to her potion than to start some kind of discussion about why he may or may not deserve it. She didn’t have time for that, nor was she particularly keen on the amount of attention such a discussion might warrant from both the headmaster and her classmates.

“Just return what’s left when you’re finished, please,” Amelia added, waiting for Ariel to take the jar from her so she could go back to what she was doing.