The Power of Potions || Lesson 1

She gave Elias a sweet smile. "Any time." First years usually had a rough go of it for the first few months until they settled into what would become their new normal. No reason not to try and make it a slightly more pleasant place for them.

Second years on the other hand...

Rosie went back to her notes, a smirk growing on her lips as Cassian gave her a little nudge. "Hey handsome," she said distractedly, before glancing up and noticing the entire class was filing to the front to partake in potion drinking.

It seemed the only one left was the murky brown. Why had she wasted so much time sitting and taking notes instead of rushing to grab one of the less-disgusting-looking vials? Rosalie picked up the vial as the professor continued on, turning the thing between her fingers a few times and bringing it close so she could inspect it better. It was so...muddy.

God.

She glanced at Cassian as he uncorked his gassy green vial and downed it with little fanfare. Her eyebrows came together, wondering how it was that he had basically no reaction whatsoever? As though he just regularly downed disgusting things all the time.

"Give the brew a few moments to work their magic. At which point, the parchment will come into play. You'll be writing down what you feel, if anything. You may wish to partner up for this in case your potion's a doozy or try to keep it together and self-reflect. Of course, you won't know what you've taken until you start to feel it."

Rosie groaned, uncorking the vile vial, and deciding that smelling it first was probably a bad idea. She sighed, with a roll of her eyes and tossed the contents back, willing her taste buds to numb. It was sludgy and weird, and the poor girl almost gagged as she set the vial back down and made her way back to her seat. Her face wrinkled as she tried not to think about the texture she'd just swallowed, thankful she hadn't given it any time to mull on what it tasted like.

"Partner up?" she croaked at her boyfriend, and gave a slight shake of her head to rid herself of the disgust. "How...how did you do that so easily?"

Emil watched as the students, one by one, came up to the table and picked their poison.

Some had taken the vial and consumed it immediately, opting to put quill to parchment before the potions could work their magic. All well, he thought, for it was in preperation for what was coming.

"So much for the last 3 years of potions safety,"

As the young Gryffindor knocked back her drink, Emil came to the closest a smirk he could manage. "Rest assured, Miss Asquith, these potions were brewed by me, not found in the back of a broom closet somewhere. You will all be...mostly fine."

He watched as the vials disappeared one by one. The pink, then followed the green. He tried to ignore the "glowing green" comment, resisting his instinct to ask how someone naturally glows green. The tiny Gryffindor that followed asked if any of them had contained poison, looking not frightened but excited at the thought. Emil's eyes followed his hand until the crimson potion had left his table and made it's way into the young boy's hand. "Poison is a rather nuanced term. What's poison for some people is medicine for others. But I'll be looking forward to your notes... in particular, Mr. Folwell."

One of his Slytherins had chosen the murky violet potion. The loud one at the feast, he thought. That one would be a little stranger to take in than most, for her and for himself. The Ravenclaw that followed chose the sickly yellow-green one. Another interesting one, one that would make Emil stay well into the other side of the room. His younger Ravenclaw housemate went for the watery blue one with vigor, as did the small Ravenclaw girl who came right after him. Splitting the potion was a strange choice, but maybe they could partner up and see how the potency would affect them.

Last but not least, the oldest Gryffindor in the class came up. Her choices had been limited between the remaining murky violet that Elliot had opted for, or the murky brown. Emil, staring a bit more, realized this was a relative of the librarian of the castle. An interesting tidbit that could come into play the moment the potion would work his magic. Maybe even Emil would take notes today.

---

"Now that you've all consumed your brews, please brace yourselves for their effects. None of you will be dying, nor are any of them... poisonous." His inflection on the last word would probably not calm any still hearts, but no one would be sent to the hospital wing because of these. At least, not directly because of the potions.

"See if you can figure out what potion you took. Barring that, at least try to work through the symptoms you're feeling. Look inward for these writings. Uh, McCormick, maybe you'd like to move to the other corner of the classroom. A bit father away if you don't mind."

---

OOC: Welcome to the second update, the metaphorical meat in the sandwich of the class! Below is a list of what each potion is and who was the lucky consumer of said brew. Depending on how advanced you'd like your student to be, you can recognize the potion you'd consumed or not. Some are a little obscure, others are staple potions. Some potions will clear your head, others will obfuscate your thoughts with feelings of (x). Feel free to play along to your characters desire! Next update should be Sept. 26th!

Here is the list, and there're links to the potions effect if you'd like to read them directly from the source.

• The dull brown vial sat heavy on the table, its contents sluggish and muddy, clinging to the glass as though it didn’t want to settle.
  • Ageing Potion – dull brown, temporarily ages the drinker.
  Rosalie
  
  
• The vibrant turquoise vial seemed alive, its liquid swirling with inner currents that caught the torchlight in electric flashes.
    • Baruffio’s Brain Elixir – vibrant turquoise, improves memory and focus.
  Corbin Donahue
  
  
• The pale pink vial shimmered faintly, its smooth surface gleaming softly, like light brushing across polished pearl.
  • Beautification Potion – pale pink, enhances physical appearance.
  Elias Everett
  
  
• The watery blue vial looked almost clear, sloshing thinly like water, yet with a faint haze that made the edges blur when stared at too long.
  • Forgetfulness Potion – watery blue, causes mild lapses in memory.
  Joshua Henley
  Catherine Holloway
  
  
• The dark crimson vial was dense and opaque, heavier than blood, faint ripples forming across its surface even when untouched.
  • Hate Potion – dark crimson, provokes feelings of hatred toward another.
  Vinnie Folwell
  
  
• The bright green vial practically glowed, bubbling to life with impatient pops that rose and vanished at its surface.
  • Manegro Potion – bright green, rapid uncontrolled hair growth.
  Matilda
  
  
• The sickly yellow-green vial was cloudy and unappealing, tiny bursts of gas pressing against the cork and leaving damp condensation around its seal.
  • Maximum Turbo Farts Potion – sickly yellow-green, causes uncontrollable flatulence.
  Cassian
  
  
• The two murky violet vials looked almost alive, its surface bubbling sluggishly as thick clumps shifted and broke apart. It gave off a faint, acrid odor, like burnt hair and damp stone, and the liquid seemed to change consistency each time the glass was tilted. (Two available for this one.)
  • Polyjuice Potion - Turn into Emil Roan
  Ruth
  
  
• The golden vial glowed as though molten sunlight had been captured inside, radiance spilling into the dungeon’s dim air.
  • Vitamix Potion – golden, invigorates stamina and health.
  Emil
  
  
• The clear vial with its silver shimmer looked almost empty, except when it caught the light and a quicksilver gleam rippled like liquid lightning within.
  • Wit-Sharpening Potion – clear with silver shimmer, sharpens concentration and reasoning.
  Tulip Asquith
  

“Poison is a rather nuanced term.” Vinnie frowned. How could something be only kind of poison? Surely it either made the drinker get sick and die, or it didn’t.

Still, Vinnie positioned his quill over his parchment, eager to begin. The potion was thick and viscous, its consistency somewhere between honey and blood as it slid down his throat. It tasted of almost nothing at first, but left behind a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. The aftertaste was hard to pin down. It seemed to shift every time he tried to define it, and tasted sometimes of concepts rather than flavors. Finally a normal flavor came through - liquorice. Vinnie wrinkled his nose. He’d always hated liquorice.

Nothing happened, so Vinnie began to take down notes. He put a title at the top, a description of the potion and how it had tasted, and made a note that it didn’t seem to be working yet. Woah, did Elias get a haircut or something? He looks so cool, Vinnie thought, as he glanced around the room. And what’s that awful smell?

Suddenly, none of that mattered anymore. Vinnie’s mind felt as foggy as though he hadn’t slept in days. His jaw clenched, his muscles tensing up. He felt hot. His nostrils flared.

Everything else had been swallowed up by thoughts of Professor Roan. Feverish, hateful, vile thoughts that bordered on obsession. He couldn’t focus on anything except newfound revulsion towards the professor. He returned to his notes, but instead of taking down symptoms, he found himself only hurling silent insults with his quill.

There was one brief moment of clarity. For that instant Vinnie thought he understood Professor Roan’s words. This really is poison, he thought. Only not a physical one. It was worse, emotion clouding his mind, suffocating in intensity as something rotten grew inside of him. Vinnie wasn’t a hateful person. He had never felt quite like this, where the obsession of bitterness gnawed away at him until there was nothing left.

MIND POISON, Vinnie scrawled down as he came to that conclusion, underlining the words twice. That was all he managed before something snapped, and the fog of hatred consumed him once more.

When Vinnie had finished, he made his way to the front desk. His eyes were fixed on the professor with a look of pure loathing. “My notes, Professor,” Vinnie spat, throwing his parchment down on the man’s desk. It was crumpled up in the middle, where he had gripped it too tightly.

I should curse him, Vinnie thought viciously. He went for his wand, but something in him fought back. As he tried to both hex the professor and stop himself at the same time, he succeeded in only banging his arm hard into a passing desk. Fuming, he went back to stand at his own.

The mindless ‘notes’ he’d practically thrown at the Professor had read:

Potion Drinking Experiment

• Dark rippling red potion!
  
• Tastes like getting in trouble, sitting still, and seeing people’s eyes go empty. Also, liquorice.
  
• Doesn’t seem to be working yet, maybe there’s a delay?
  
• My head is so cloudy
  
• I feel
  
• This class sucks. I hate Professor Roan. He’s so strict. He has a stupid beard and stupid glasses. What kind of teacher makes his students drink dangerous potions? He probably just likes to watch us suffer. Maybe he really is poisoning us. I bet he’s hurt people before MIND POISON I bet he’s killed. He should be fired. They should throw him in Azkaban. Let the Dementors have him. He probably doesn’t have a family. Who would ever love him? He’s like an empty shell of a person. I hope someone wipes him off the planet with an Unforgivable. I hope he drops dead tomorrow. Just seeing him up there makes me sick. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.
  

At the end of the last word, Vinnie had written so aggressively he’d torn straight through the parchment with his quill.

To be honest, she hated taking notes. She was more of a, fly by the seat of her pants kind of gale. Unfortunately, that didn’t help when studying for exams. So, begrudgingly, she wrote some things down.

Potion
Look: Bright green, probably poison, bubbles, glowing?

Holding it up, Matilda looked at the potion bubbling away in the bottle. Roan had assured them nothing was poisonous, but she had her doubts. "Poison is a rather nuanced term. What's poison for some people is medicine for others. But I'll be looking forward to your notes... in particular, Mr. Folwell."

Well now she had A LOT of doubts. Looking around, most of her peers were uncorking their bottles, a few had already downed their liquid. Vinnie seemed to be writing furiously on his parchment, his potion had looked particularly scary.

“Bottoms up!” She said, pinching her nose and shooting the liquid like an experienced sailor. “Oh fuck a duck that is sour,” she said, face looking pinched. Once her taste buds calmed down, she took stock of how she felt. Surprisingly, normal? Holding her hands out in front of her, Matilda tried to figure out what had changed. Her hands and arms seemed to be the same, nothing felt… weird, her scalp itched a bit, but nothing horrible.

Bringing her hand up to her hair, Matilda scratched her scalp that was tingling, almost stinging. What her fingers found was hair, but not her normal amount of hair. As her hand pulled away, her once long hair was now touching the floor, and it kept going. Standing up quickly, chair pushing back with a loud scrape on the stone floor, Matilda stood there in puddle of red, curly locks.

“Holy Hairball, this is insane!”

When her hair finally stopped sprouting out of her head, she lifted the heavy mane off the floor. It had to be at least 8 feet long. This would have come in very handy after her Christmas hair cutting incident a couple years back.

Finding her parchment, hidden under her bangs that had fallen to cover her face, she started finishing her notes.

SOUR!! The potion stung on the way down. Didn’t hurt. Made hair grow A LOT. Scalp itched, then stung, then my hair grew 6 feet.

Getting around with crutches and her heavy mane of hair trailing behind her was going to be impossible.

As expected, the potion was foul. While her time volunteering in the hospital wing had proven otherwise, it was moments like these that convinced Rae there weren't any decently flavoured ones in existence.

It wasn't a surprise, given all the gnarly shit that ended up going into many of these, and sometimes it amazed the girl that, knowing what was inside, people drank them anyway. It was mental, wasn't it? Knowing there were crushed bat spleens and dried leeches, but stomaching a potion anyway? The girl didn't care how powerful a potion claimed to make her; those things were nasty and seldom went past her lips for good reason.

Now she had the bitter taste in her mouth and could already feel the potion beginning to take effect. Not being an avid consumer, Rae really didn't know what she was meant to be looking out for. Was she growing a little lightheaded because of the brew or because she was now anticipating it? How would she know the difference?

She watched the desk getting closer to the ground, but it took her another moment to realise it wasn't the table but her that had been affected.

Her hands were growing bigger, and her skin paler. Before long, both arms were covered in long, masculine hair that made her look like some great beast. Rae scowled, not needing to see anymore to understand she'd obviously been fed a polyjuice potion--nothing else would turn her into anyone else. Who had she become? It was harder to say until she'd vaguely caught her reflection in the shiny surface of her cauldron.

Thick beard. Her messy, unruly mane of hair straightened and reduced to a few flaccid inches, some of it falling against her face. Her uniform was stretched to its very limits. Usually covering her small frame, it was now forced to contain the body of a 40-something-year-old man. The seams stretched and screamed, her skirt's waistband tearing by the zipper and side hemlines. Even her shirt succumbed to the strain, the hemlines by her sides and armpits, ripping lightly. Thankfully, her black robes kept her covered, but flowing as they often were, even they began to exhibit some strain under her new form.

She was going to be sick.

She was going to scream.

In another few seconds, the 14-year-old was going to lose her ever-loving-shit over being transported to and trapped inside the body of a grown man, and not just any, but her head of house.

Rae had seen the potion used before, but had never held ambitions of trying it herself. Her mind struggled under the idea that her body had been replaced, that the limbs she looked at weren't her own, that these body parts she now possessed were not hers. She didn't want to be so intimately acquainted with every inch of her professor or anyone else, for that matter.

The young girl didn't feel good; nothing about this felt good. She felt as if her skin were crawling, and it hurt her head even more to be reminded that it wasn't her skin.

Rae started to speak, but the moment she heard the gruffer voice of the professor, her lips clamped shut. Not her lips. His lips.

Was it possible to feel any more sick? Ruth Anaya was positively horrified and struggled to understand why any professor would want their student having such access.

"Partner up?"

"You don't even have to ask," Cass said lightly, downing the last of his potion like he'd been told to. He wasn't sure where the class was going, but the boy had never been in the habit of asking many questions of his professors--outside of the ones that aided in his understanding of the given topic. For the most part, the Ravenclaw understood that the professors had their own way of doing things, and those ways, while often unconventional, usually got the job done with minimal harm.

"How...how did you do that so easily?"

"Hm?" Cassian shot Rosie a quizzical look, not immediately catching on to whatever she might have been implying. "Do what?" When she gestured to his now-empty potion's bottle, the boy blinked a few times before the dots finally connected.

"Oh!" He laughed, a light and non-commital shrug rolling off his shoulders. "Good genes and natural talent, I guess," he joked, offering her a wink before lowering his vial. The question, despite its deeper implications, read rather shallow to him. Never did it occur to Cass that she might have been trying to look further into any potion-guzzling habits he may or may not have had. That was a separate issue, one he never expected to creep into his daily conversations.

Uh, McCormick, maybe you'd like to move to the other corner of the classroom. A bit farther away if you don't mind."

His brow rose, first at the professor, then at Rosie, as if she might be able to explain whatever the professor meant. Moving to the far corner? Just him? Was there something different about his potion he should've known ahead of time?

Before any of those questions could be asked, the boy felt an uncomfortable gurgling in his stomach. He knew to brace himself--as one always did when ingesting things they couldn't verify--but no amount of preparation would've made the moment any more manageable. By the time Cass discovered the extent of his peril, it was already too late. The boy now understood exactly why Roan had suggested he move further away.

Cassian's face flooded with colour at the functions he could no longer control. A warning would've been nice, an option to opt out of choosing another potion. Instead, the boy stood humiliated, regretting, for the first time, the blind faith he put in his professors. Beet red, he muttered to his girlfriend that he would be back before excusing himself from the room completely. He stood out in the corridor, right by the door so he wouldn't miss anything important while removing himself enought not to die of the mortification that crept into his bones.

He would remain outside until whatever the matter was managed to resolve itself. If it lasted for the duration of the lesson and beyond, he would have no choice but to make a trip to the hospital wing and hope the healer had something on hand.

The effects of the potion hit him like a punch, and everything clicked into focus. The moonlit lanterns above the desk looked brighter, more mystical. The scratching of quills and the chattering of his fellow students sounded clearer. More immediate. He went for his bag, emerging a moment later with a thick textbook.

Corbin opened the potions text with a practiced ease, and flipped through to the chapter he needed. Here - cognitive draughts. Out of the many brews described, two caught his eye: a Wit-Sharpening Potion, clear with a silver shimmer. Then, Baruffio's Brain Elixir, described as bright blue with swirling currents. The Intellect Enhancer was also blue, but something told him it was wrong. The consistency described did not match the one he had just taken.

A past version of himself had scribbled a note about an 'electric appearance' next to the Brain Elixir entry. Presumably cross-referenced from another text. His class notes on the potion had gone so far as to call it Lightning in a bottle... with electric flashes in the swirling liquid. He compared the described effects to what he was experiencing. It seemed a match.

Tapping the entry with a finger thoughtfully, he grabbed his forgotten quill from his desk and returned to his note taking:

Possible match (from textbook):

Baruffio's Brain Elixir
Effects: enhanced memory, improved focus, better... mental organization?*
Experience matches the textbook. Colouration, description and consistency seem to support the random potion being this one. Probably? Hard to tell...

Might still be an Intellect Enhancer, or some other variant. Would need more detail on ingredients.

Should have kept a sample. For testing.

It seems... useful? Note to self: brew some. Might be handy. Can sell to Ravenclaws.

Around him, the classroom had descended into chaos. Folwell hunched over his parchment, shoulders rigid, shooting murderous looks at Professor Roan. The crimson potion had done something nasty to his mood - several possibilities came to mind from his readings, but he couldn't be sure without more information.

Nordstrom's hair now pooled around her chair in red coils, still growing. Hair-growth potion. Something beginning with M - Manegro maybe? He remembered scribbling that name down weeks ago.

The most disturbing change belonged to Elliot. She had transformed - broader shoulders, masculine features, a beard. Her uniform strained across a body that wasn't hers anymore. The violet potion sat empty on her desk. Well, that was terrifying. Was it some kind of transformation potion? No way to know for sure. He couldn't identify which one just from the appearance.

Corbin quickly added another line to his notes:

Violet potion = full body transformation, very fast acting. Advanced magic? (Stay away!)

McCormick had disappeared entirely from the classroom - whatever his yellow-green potion had done, it was probably not ideal. Corbin glanced toward the door, then back at his textbook, flipping to a section on common potion side effects.

The pink potion went down easy, almost sweet. Elias set the empty vial on his desk and waited. Nothing happened at first, so he took out his notebook and wrote about the taste and the colour. Easy enough.

Around the classroom, things were getting really weird. Ruth looked completely different - like she'd turned into a grown man with a beard and everything. Her robes were all stretched and torn. Elias stared, and made a small squeak sound. How was that even possible?

Wait a minute. Ruth's potion had been violet, and look what happened to her. His was pink

Panic hit him like cold water. Pink was almost the same as violet, wasn't it? What if his potion was going to change him into someone else too?

He ran his fingers through his hair to check if anything was different. It felt really soft. Softer than it had ever felt before. His hands went to his face next - his skin felt smoother somehow, like after his mum made him wash with that special soap she bought from the apothecary.

But what if that was just the beginning?

Elias pressed his palms against his cheeks, then checked his hands - they looked the same. Maybe? He whispered "testing, testing" under his breath. His voice sounded... mostly normal? He wiggled his fingers, touched his nose, then felt around his ears. Everything seemed the same, if a little softer or something.

But then again, Ruth had probably felt normal at first too. Before the really big changes started.

He squirmed a little in his seat, as he remembered what Rosalie had said before they drank the potions. About sacrificing Ruth if things went badly. He had agreed that it was a good plan. He felt himself going pale. What if this was punishment for being mean to Ruth? What if agreeing to sacrifice her had somehow made him get a scary potion too?

He glanced over at Joshua, hoping his friend might notice if anything weird was happening, but Joshua seemed distracted.

Elias pulled out his quill and parchment. Professor Roan had said to write down what they felt. He was supposed to be taking notes like a good student.

He dipped his quill in ink and stared at the blank parchment. What was he supposed to write? That his hair felt soft? That he was scared he might turn into someone else? He started scribbling his thoughts onto the paper but his hand was shaking too much and the letters came out all wobbly.

His foot bounced under the desk. Professor Roan had told them to "pick your poison" and said they'd be "mostly fine." That didn't sound like someone who'd help if things went wrong.

His hand went to his hair again. It really did feel amazing, like silk or something. But what if feeling good was bad? Potions were scary.

Rest assured, Miss Asquith, these potions were brewed by me, not found in the back of a broom closet somewhere. You will all be...mostly fine."

Tulip raised an eyebrow the professors reassurance didn't exactly reassure her. She doubted it was brewed in a cupboard but the head of houses cave office, which was probabily exactly the same thing in principle.

She watched as everyone else downed their potions, she was glad she'd stepped up early some of those potions looked rancid, and likely not for human consumption. It was in those few moments after drinking it, that she defintily had second thoughts about what she'd drank and what it might do. She just hoped she wouldn't get two heads, or turn into a gorgon or something worse.

And then everything started to slow down, not in the world around her but in her head, everything was sharper and she was so much more focused. "Oh wait....thats bloody weird" she exclaimed, she opened a page of her book and read the text and for once it actually went in which was a new thing. Her brain wasn't cluttered or disinterested and she even noted down the potion and what it did. This must be what it felt like to be a Ravenclaw!

Emil leaned back slightly against the desk, arms folding as he took stock of the classroom. The hair pooling across the flagstones, the groans from the corridor, the pale faces, the frantic scribbles. A lesser man might have rushed to undo what had been done. Emil only nodded once, as though everything had gone exactly to plan. No one was in danger and no one was dead. Although the effects of the hatred potion seemed to have bee extra effective.

“You may all breathe a little easier,” he said at last, voice carrying across the room with calmness. “Every draught you’ve consumed was deliberately diluted. What you feel now will last half the usual duration—long enough to teach you, short enough to wait out without incident.”

His eyes flicked to Ruth, then Elias, then to the trail of curls Matilda was already gathering. He made a quiet mental note of each result. Which student panicked, which one observed, which one endured with humor or shame. “Potions come with all sorts of effects. Ingredients, brew methods, or even the slightest change in the incantation can have lasting effects. They are about control. About precision.”

He tapped the edge of the desk with his knuckle, a sharp sound to bring wandering quills back to the parchment.

“Your task is simple. By week’s end, I expect an essay detailing your observations. Describe what you saw, what you felt, and most importantly, what you learned. Ten inches of parchment, minimum. Do not give me one-word descriptions like ‘weird’ or ‘gross.’ I expect detail, comparison, analysis. If you cannot yet name your potion, describe it well enough that I might.”

He straightened, retrieving his own half-empty vial and holding it up for a final reminder. The liquid shimmered gold in the dim dungeon light.

“Remember, these were brewed safely, under watch. Out in the world, you will not always be so fortunate. Learn now, while you are able. Class dismissed.”

---

OOC: The final post is up! Enjoy having the potions slowly wear off bit by bit. Some potions, like the hair growth one, will just stop growing you hair leaving you with a beautiful mane. Ones that altered your mental state will be the ones that slowly wane.

Post your last one and grades will be up by the time the second lesson's first post! Thank you for tagging along <3

She wouldn't be writing the essay.

In the seconds it had taken for the professor to pass on his final instructions for the lesson, her mind was firmly made up. The girl had no intention of dwelling on, let alone writing about, this horrendous experience that had been thrust upon her. The moment the potion wore off, Rae intended to do everything in her power to forget it had ever happened. She would mend her uniform with basic repairing charms, then ensure she had too much to do for the rest of the afternoon.

By the time she sat to get her homework done--whenever that would eventually be--Rae hoped to have no recollection of this specific event.

Mentally, she began to work her way through her schedule for the next week. A detention or two, while inconvenient, wouldn't put her terribly out of her way. The girl would have to adjust a few things here and there, reschedule a few plans, and maybe consider not doing some of her other assignments to ensure she wasn't too badly put out of her way.

Yes, that would do nicely.

If the assignment was due by the end of the week, she wouldn't have to concern herself with the consequences until perhaps the following week anyway. That was plenty of time to get her affairs in order.

Rae reached to the ground for her book bag, scowling at the sight of thicker, hairy legs that shot out past her suffering uniform skirt. Her shoes had fared no better in the transformation, the leather ripping and distorted where it broke, while her feet screamed in all the places it held firm.

The sight of it brought with it the return of her horror, the feeling ebbing in and out with each new visual reminder of what had happened to her. The man had said it was a diluted version. It wouldn't last as long as it otherwise would've. That didn't give her much to go on. Would it be another ten minutes or half an hour? Would she be returning to her dorm like this? Would she even be let in? It was hard to say how that magic worked with keeping boys out, and today would've been a rotten day to find out.

Shouldering her bag, Rae stalked out of the room without looking back. She had this new thing to figure out.

It went without saying that she wouldn't be attending Astronomy. Even with the potion's effects fading before the next class was through, the girl would've been in no state with a torn uniform, and she couldn't very well put on a new one when none of them would fit.

She was better off taking things easy.

Oh, Merlin, he had to write about this humiliation when it was over? Cassian stood by the door, listening in while the professor gave the last of his instructions, and nothing could've made the boy cringe harder--save the predicament he found himself in in the first place. Ten inches. The man didn't want them giving a few hurried words of observation; he wanted them diving into the entire experience, how they felt, anything they may have found pertinent.

The boy now had a pair of choices. He could feign some life-threatening illness that prevented him from writing essays--less believable, Professor Roan would never go for it--or he'd have to dig deep for the sort of vagueness that would prevent him from truly having to relive this moment on parchment while satisfying the criteria.

The latter was likely the better bet.

A challenge in itself, he didn't hate the idea.

Much to his relief, the professor had made it clear the potions were diluted. He wouldn't have to suffer this humiliation for as long as it was initially slated to be. Not that it mattered, Cassian supposed. Having never held an interest in such potions, he couldn't recall their duration or whether there were other side effects he would have to be on the lookout for.

Mercifully, he could already feel the pressure easing from his stomach. It wasn't entirely gone, but the effects of the potion were already beginning to wane. Soon, he would be able to be around others again. That moment wasn't this second, however, so when the professor dismissed them, Cassian was quick to summon his bookbag and things. The few books he'd taken out, thinking he would need them, were slipped back into his bag before it was slung over his shoulder.

The boy gestured to his girlfriend, letting her know he was going to go on ahead of her. They had Astronomy next, and all the boy could do was pray that by the time he got to the towers, this unfortunate predicament was behind him.

While not a saint, Cassian McCormick didn't make a habit of skipping his classes--with exceptions. It wouldn't have been his preferred option, but the boy knew he, and his classmates, for that matter, wouldn't be able to concentrate if she showed up to class this way.

When he got to his next class, he would scribble down the potions homework to ensure he didn't forget it. For now, he needed to remove himself from the door before the others started pouring out, and that's exactly what he did.

"Good genes and natural talent, I guess."

Rosie rolled her eyes, a small grin playing on her lips. "The best genes, honestly. They'll go pretty with my blue eyes one day." It wasn't a tease. She had every intention of one day seeing Cassian's dark curls, freckles and cheeky grin all accentuated by her eyes. And if there was another mix that sprung out, she was certain they'd be just as beautiful.

How could they not be, when he looked like that?

"Now that you've all consumed your brews, please brace yourselves for their effects. None of you will be dying, nor are any of them... poisonous."

Brace? She didn't feel a thing. Confusion washed over her as Cassian rose quickly from the desk and made his way out the back door, but she shrugged and went back to her notes, jotting a few things down while she waited for him to come back. Maybe his was making him nauseous and he just needed some air.

Rosalie glanced around the room briefly, wrinkling her nose at Rae who had turned into the professor. That seemed, weird, right? Why would Professor Roan polyjuice himself for a student? Maybe it was just Rosie but it gave her the heebie jeebies. She shuddered, turning her attention to Matilda who had grown hair longer than she'd ever seen before.

And still, Rosie felt...nothing.

Had she drank a potion? Was it just lake mud? It tasted like it for sure. If the girl had had a mirror, she might have been able to see how her face had matured into that of a young woman around twenty-five. How her hair had darkened naturally into a very light brunette. Her figure had filled out a little more and she was an inch taller. But alas, she hadn't one and couldn't.

“Your task is simple. By week’s end, I expect an essay detailing your observations. Describe what you saw, what you felt, and most importantly, what you learned. Ten inches of parchment, minimum. Do not give me one-word descriptions like ‘weird’ or ‘gross.’ I expect detail, comparison, analysis. If you cannot yet name your potion, describe it well enough that I might.”

How...was she supposed to write an essay about something that had no noticeable affect on her? How was she supposed to figure out what potion it was when nothing had happened? Rosie groaned, gathering up her things and glancing over her shoulder, as Cassian motioned he was heading out without her.

Weird. Maybe he was going to be sick.

Tucking her notes into her shoulder bag, Rosie rose from the table, still unaware of her appearance and headed out for Astronomy.

Sienna Miller’s hands shook as she sat motionless, her writing utensil ready but nothing of substance was written on her paper as she was totally unable to concentrate. The blaze—no, the uproar of wild but carefully crafted deeds—that was still coursing in her veins like an electric wave of dread and awe was very present to her. Her palms were sweaty and the sharp aroma of burnt herbs still lingered in the air over her like a faint sting at the back of her throat.

Her glance flitted over the little glass containers on the desk each of which was dimly lit even though covered with some cloth. Sienna felt conflicted, on the one hand, she was curious, and on the other, she was cautious. Mindfire Elixer, Liquified Whisper, Reverie Draught… She scrolled through possible meanings of these terms. Reliving a memory? Observing your thoughts? Secretly talking to someone in the next room? It was almost like fantasy only it was true. Almost.

Sienna Miller’s quill was not sure whether it should be held up or with down it steadily touching the page. She really wanted to work on her thoughts and just write whatever came into her mind but it seemed that the way Professor Roan surveyed the room with his slow, measured, almost predatory glance made her stop. There was an angle there. A challenge.

She actually leaned forward after taking a better look under the fabric with her head inclined and guessing it might be a far vial. Her heart was thumping but that sensation which she hadn’t experienced in years - a shudder of real magic, alive, uncanny, and waiting to be found - was coursing through her.

Sienna’s hand was almost involuntarily, nervously, shaking and it shot up like a rocket when the professor’s gesture motioned toward the vials and recommended selecting wisely. The other students were not sure what to do; some were whispering their ideas while others, like statues, were staring. She was gulping and her voice was that of a mere whisper:

“I… I will choose the last one,” she uttered pointing to the vial Professor Roan indicated as the Reverie Draught.

Her eyes quickly scanning the scene behind her looking for the opinion of others, some wondering what was happening and some gazing at her in astonishment or thinking to warn her, she ignored and instead, with unforgettable excitement mixed with fear of her pounding heart, she asked herself whether she was brave or reckless but the urge to be inside a memory only for a second but not to apart from it was so strong that it was impossible to resist.

Carefully without allowing the light to shine through the glass or accidentally releasing the contents she pulled the vial closer to her. Her writing utensil was once more up but this time, very rapid and precise motions of the nib were being made scribbling: “Reverie Draught… memory exploration… caution compulsory… hazard: lose grip on now…”

She felt anticipation for the opening of her first memory to come faster than ever.

Moreover, in the very depths of her soul, there was this ephemeral yet overwhelming notion that kept whispering to her like a secretful voice: This is why I’m here. This is why I took up magic.