Closed Turning Violet pv Haven Bohannon

@Wyatt Starkey

Haven didn't like potions. Or most of her classes, really. It really wasn't her fault though, she was just so rubbish at them, no matter how hard she tried and how long she studied, it seemed like she was always at the bottom the class, barely scraping by. While the others were straight-o students, star sports players, and had an active social life, Haven was barely getting As and Ps, was a terrible duellist (that she was tricked into joining), and only seemed to talk to her pygmy puff, Marcus, because she had to spend every spare minute studying. It seemed to come so easily for them, which was so unfair.

At least for this potions project, she got a break from being cooped up alone in the library, and got to work with a partner! She loved partner projects, because it made the time go by so much quicker, and she had someone to rely on when she inevitably messed everything up. And, they had to listen to her talk... or at least be there whilst she talked. She didn't mean to talk so much, though, it just... happened. She really tried to stop, since people didn't typically like it, and goodness knows she's gotten many a reprimand for talking in class, but every time, it seemed like the words just started pouring out again, just like when she entered the classroom.

"I am so excited to be doing this over my transfiguration paper, let me tell you," she started, swinging her bag onto the table and taking a seat on the stool next to the boy. "I thought I was just going to die during the lecture today. Like, I barely passed my OWL, and they think I can handle this?? And it was so boring, too, all I could think about was what I was going to have for lunch. And lunch wasn't even that great today, I was hoping for something more exciting, but I did have some time to go outside and I found some things that we might need for our potion!" She reached into her pocket and splatted down a pile of sticks, leaves, and other random ingredients onto the table with a smile. "What potion are we supposed to be making, again? I think I forgot my textbook."

wearing

hex: #1f3b4d

He should have prepped for this. She came out the gate swinging, talking so fast Wyatt was forced to use all of his focus to keep up. Half of him was already exhausted, knowing he’d never be able to keep up the conversation with this girl going off as she was, but the other half of him was pleasantly surprised by what she was saying. He understood where she was coming from. He hadn’t done too well in his potions or transfiguration OWLs either and was surprised he made the cut. In the time it took for him to nod in solidarity, however, she was already on the next topic.

Then, all of a sudden, she dug into her pockets and all but tossed a pile of… nature trash onto the table. Sticks and leaves disrupted the organization of Wyatt’s tools and ingredients, but it wasn’t like he was some potion genius. Maybe she knew something he didn’t. He tried to consider this as he saw a small line of ants make their way from the sticks and down the table. He hoped Professor Regan didn’t mind a few ants, and he surely hoped the ants weren’t looking for any potion ingredients. He tuned back into Haven just in time to hear that she’d forgotten her textbook.

“Me too. I have my notes, at least. I’m just not sure I can understand my own handwriting,” he looked down at his scrawl with a tight frown. He understood most of it, though. Especially the largest bit at the top that said what potion they were making. “We’re brewing a restoration potion.” Lightly picking at a stick, he added, “I’m sure we can find a use for these,” before flicking an ant off his hand.

Looking at his notes, he looked at step two and began to measure 30 fl oz of Morning Dew, pouring it from its container into a beaker 10 fl oz at a time, and then into the pre-heated cauldron. Then, reading it had to boil he turned the heat up a little more. Why not speed up the process a little bit?

“Do you want to start cutting up the Stewed Mandrake? I think they have to be in cubes, either one inch or half inch, but I’m not sure it matters so much either way.”

Mentioned:
Intreracting: @Haven Bohannon

@Wyatt Starkey

"Restoration potion," she nodded, sifting through the slightly damp pile of things she had brought. "No, no, I know we need some of these..." Haven held up an oddly bent stick. "Well, not this one, this was just a cool stick I found. I thought it kinda looked like a lightning bolt, which is pretty cool. There's a lot of cool things in nature, if you look closely. Jewelweed, dried nettles-" she pointed them out as she went- "chamomile... and I think this is a worm." Haven picked up the small, slimy creature. "Oh wait, no, this is definitely a leech. That's a worm. She pointed to the earthworm making a run for Wyatt's arm before scooching the leech away a little bit. She did not want to have to worry about getting a leech off her arm again when she had homework to do. "Oh, and daisies. I think we use those, don't we?"

Haven started digging around in her bag for her notes. She knew she had them in there somewhere... ah! She procured a sheet of notes, bright and colorful, setting it down on the table after brushing away a few ants. "Sorry about those," she muttered before squinting at her handwriting. She too, did not have the best handwriting, which she did her best to combat by taking her time to write her notes, but typically that only ended up with her getting behind in class. So instead, she started to rely on a color-coding system for when she was studying, except she also wrote in colorful ink, making it quite a rainbow on a page. "Surely we can figure it out," she reassured him, leaning over to look at his notes.

"That looks like a two to me," she said, comparing what his notes said with hers. "Be careful not to cut too large... so maybe we compromise and say 1 inch. That can't be too far off. Besides, we can always cut it smaller later if we need." At least, that's what her mother always said about potatoes, and her mother knew a lot about potatoes. She had taught Haven how to use a knife, so when it came to slicing, dicing, and cubing, she was a pro, cutting it into shape in no time. She held the stewed mandrake towards the cauldron as she read aloud the next set of instructions.

"Add stewed mandrake cubes to cauldron-" she slid them in with a satisfying SPLOOSH- "once boiled. Oh." She made a panicked face at Wyatt. "I don't think that was boiling. Should we scoop it out and then wait for it to boil? Or do you think it was close enough that it'll be fine? Gosh, Haven, stop being so Haven!"

wearing

hex: #1f3b4d

“Please, I’m in no way upset you’re speeding up the process,” Wyatt said with a short laugh. Maybe Haven was a little quirky... but she'd brought some daisies for their potion. Then, drawing some of his more typical composure, “Just leave them in there until it boils, give them some more time to stew.”

He was really no good at potions, but he was hoping this wasn’t all going horribly wrong. It seemed like they were sticking to the instructions pretty well, but potion brewing was such an exact science, and one Wyatt felt he couldn’t keep up with.

Looking at his notes, it seemed the next thing to do was reduce the heat. Glancing at the cauldron, he saw it wasn’t boiling yet, and decided to look a little ahead in the recipe and see if he could get started on anything early. “You were right about the daisies. We’ll need them in a little while.” He noticed the cauldron was boiling, so he turned it to medium heat. “I think we drop them in here in a few minutes.”

After grabbing a mortar and pestle, Wyatt pulled three Streeler Shells from the jar they were in and dropped them into the mortar. He started crushing them, and glanced back at his notes, only to realize they weren’t his. She’d also brought her notes, and they were somehow even more illegible. Between the messy handwriting and blinding color palette, Wyatt could hardly make out a word. He didn’t really have too much room for judgement, though. His notes looked like they were written by someone trying out calligraphy with their non-dominant hand.

“I hope it’s been three minutes,” he said, before taking a few of Haven’s daisies and dropping them into their cauldron. Then, “Do you think the potion will come out alright if we just wait the minimum 33 minutes?” Because, really, what were they supposed to do for 44 minutes? Wyatt checked the clock. 5:10. So around 5:43 to 5:54, they’ll add the paste. Speaking of, Wyatt’s arm was beginning to ache from grinding down the shells. He extended the hand holding the mortar to Haven, asking “Would you mind taking over for a minute? I think I’m losing feeling in my arm.” A little dramatic, but it was tiring.

Mentioned:
Intreracting: @Haven Bohannon

@Wyatt Starkey

"I'm going to be the reason this potion goes wrong," she groaned, burying her head in her hands. You'd think after five and a half years of this, she could at least start to figure it all out, but no! Apparently not! Just like everything else she tried to do, she still sucked. So she trusted Wyatt's judgement on this, going along with what he thought, letting the stewed mandrakes simmer before he would add in the daisies. Hopefully it would help that they were freshly picked, too. Surely that had to count for something.

"Something like that, yeah," she said in agreement, squinting at her notes. She couldn't quite make out what it said. She really had to remember her textbook for these sorts of things- maybe just carry them around with her at all times at this point. But no, that'd be how she'd lose them all at the same time, which seemed even worse. Maybe she'd write it on her arm next time.

She tried to compare notes, looking between hers and Wyatt's in attempt to figure out the last few steps. Haven remembered reading the steps, and then writing them out, but not what the steps actually were, which was no help. Luckily, he had figured out the next step being the daisies, and then that they had to crush the streeler shells, so yay! Go them!

"We should probably wait at least 34," she thought aloud. "Or maybe it has to be exactly 33? Or exactly 44? I'm not sure." She didn't want to mess it up, but at least they had somewhere between 32-43 minutes to figure it out. However, she didn't have much time to think about it, as the mortar and pestle were shoved into her hands, not that she minded, taking it with a smile and attacking the shells.

"Maybe if we look around here somewhere we can find a book that'll tell us how long it should really sit," she rambled on absentmindedly as she grinded the shells. "We don't have to keep doing this for the entire half hour, right? We could do something else. Something fun, not like homework, I am not doing homework while doing my homework. Like maybe... oh, I know, tic tac toe!" Haven determined that the shells were thoroughly crushed enough and set them down before running to her bag, pulling out a piece of mostly unused parchment and scratching out the four lines using her purple ink.


"I call O! But you can go first."

wearing

hex: #1f3b4d

“You’re right. 33 to 44 is a wide net. There’s got to be some useful tips somewhere,” Wyatt nodded to Haven as he walked over to the shelves in the center of the classroom that held rows upon rows of books. He got on one knee before a shelf holding their year’s textbook, immediately regretting it because of the perpetual dampness of the dungeon floors that soaked his knee. He pulled textbook after textbook from the rows, inspecting the Restoration Potion pages for any useful annotations. Unshockingly, he found nothing of note aside from crude drawings of past teachers. It was almost fun to be able to tell how old the books were by who the sketches depicted.

“Nothing, but we can see how it's looking at 33 minutes. If we can figure out what it's supposed to look like by then,” he reported with a small frown as he made his way back to their brewing station.

“You did well with those,” he said, gesturing toward the shells. “Maybe we have a chance.”

Then she suggested a game of tic-tac-toe. Like a curious dog, Wyatt’s head went on a slight tilt and he allowed one of his eyebrows to raise in a questioning expression. But what was the alternative? Continuing to search through mediocre sketch art in old textbooks for at least 30 minutes? He doubted tic-tac-toe would kill all their time, but it would certainly help. He released his confused expression and righted the small tilt of his head, but crossed his arms as he debated what to do. His eyes went from Haven, to the glittering purple tic-tac-toe board in her notebook, to the simmering cauldron.

He feined disappointment when Haven announced that she would be O before Wyatt even agreed to play, but walked the rest of the way to their work table with his hands relaxed in his pockets to mark the board. “I’ll take X. If this potion explodes while we’re playing, though, I’ll not be taking any credit for this idea,” he spoke through a crooked smile. “Loser has to try the potion first?”

Then, he made his move.

X | X | X
X | O | X
X | O | X

“I might sound crazy but, during the Gala in October, you said you made costumes for your pygmy puff, right? How?” He asked, directing his attention from the game of tic-tac-toe to the mortar and pestle. Grabbing the mortar and neem oil, he measured out one ounce and added it to the grinded shells. From there, he began mixing the two to make a paste using one of the sticks haven brought, of course.

Mentioned:
Intreracting: @Haven Bohannon

@Wyatt Starkey

Haven held back a chuckle when Wyatt stood up with the textbook, the silliest thought appearing in her mind that she just couldn't stop from saying quietly: "the floor peed on you." She giggled to herself, laughing as she kept crushing the shells. You'd think, at 16, she could be a little bit more mature, but evidently not. Haven had to brush tears out of her eyes so they wouldn't get into the shells she was crushing.

"Thanks!" she beamed as he complimented her shell-crushing. "I sure hope so. I don't want this potion going wrong. I don't think I'll be able to handle getting another T. Mentally, emotionally... I think they'd flunk me out." She sighed. School never went her way. She just didn't understand how she could be so bad at everything. It's not like it wasn't due to a lack of trying, it seemed like she spent her every spare moment trying to study and learn and do homework and get better grades, but it never worked. It never clicked, she never understood any of it. She was jealous of those who could get perfect grades without studying- or even with studying, because she still couldn't do it.

But she distracted herself from that sad fact with tic tac toe, eagerly smoothing out the crumpled paper. "You have yourself a deal," she told him, scratching out her move. "I hope you're excited to try it."

X | X | O
X | O | X
X | O | X

"I do!" She confirmed his question. "But basically I just take little scraps of fabric or yarn or sometimes just paper, and then I'll use glue or tape or just tie knots to make him little outfits. They're not very pretty, but they sure are funny! When I'm back home, I'll have my mom help me and she'll sew them, or crochet little things. Marcus loves playing dress-up with me."

wearing

hex: #1f3b4d

“We’re sixth years, we have one year left. There is no way they would let us flunk out now,” he mused, despite not fully believing himself. Sometimes he saw Lear as a distant benevolent ruler, talking at feasts on occasion and probably having had an interesting life before Hogwarts. Maybe even during, if Wyatt wanted to be daring. Other times, he was this big scary old man. He probably would not care whether they failed or passed their potions class. “To be fair, at this point, I think it’s on them if they can’t get us to figure this out.”

She took his challenge of tic-tac-toe, so confident in her skills he questioned his own. That might have been why he started in a terrible position for the game. He would be drinking this potion first, wouldn’t he? To distract from this, he asked her about her pygmy puff. Though he liked to make little sketches from time to time, Wyatt was never one for crafts, so he couldn’t wrap his mind around tape and glue and knots to form a costume, but he took in the details. Judging by the reference to tape and glue, this girl was a half-blood or muggle-born, which was quite interesting. Perhaps that genuine twinkle in her eyes and her ability to see the humor in the mundane came from a fascination with the new magical world she came into as a first year. That, or she was just a giddy pureblood. Both realities were equally possible.

Wyatt stirred up the paste as he listened to Haven talk, sometimes pulling up the stick and seeing how stretchy the substance was becoming. It was too watery still, not nearly as viscous as paste should be, so Wyatt stirred just a little longer. He then set it aside and turned his attention to the tic-tac-toe board. He wanted to talk about his own pet and contribute to the conversation, but his snake was kind of a secret, as she was an unlikely pet for a Hogwarts student if they weren’t a parselmouth. He usually kept quiet about his “talent”. Those conversations were strange and never went well. So, as far as Marcus went, Wyatt responded, “If only we were as good at potions as you are with crafts.” Though it may have sounded slightly offensive, it was his own very… Slytherin way of making a joke. His tone, though lacking in pizzazz, was nowhere near harsh.

X | X | O
X | X | X
X | O | X

Once he had made his mark in an X, he stared into the cauldron. “I can’t believe we’re expected to drink this. It’s all flowers and crushed shells and ants,” he sighed.

Mentioned:
Intreracting: @Haven Bohannon

@Wyatt Starkey

"Maybe not flunk out, but definitely have to repeat the year. I'm surprised they haven't asked me to yet," she confessed. "It's just been troll after troll after troll it seems." She was exaggerating a little bit, but it was enough to wear her down and discourage her. She had no confidence that she could ever succeed in her classes... or even a career, seeing how each of them wanted an OWL in this and a NEWT in that and she was sure there was going to be no way she'd pass any of them, which did limit her options a little bit, not that she'd probably be good at any of them anyway.

"I don't think I'd be much better at potions then," she confessed. "I'm exceptionally good at trying, but the actual succeeding is where we have the problems. I am really good at finding things that nobody wants. Like sticks and leaves and bugs and conversations, because people usually don't actually want to talk with me, they just talk to me and then they don't leave and they don't tell me that they don't want a conversation with me so I just keep talking and talking and talking but they never tell me that they want me to shut up so I just keep going on and on and... well, just like this. Do you want me to stop talking? You can tell me." Just in case, she did stop talking a little bit, examining his move before starting to make her own.

X | X | O
X | X | X
X | O | X

"Well, that's basically what tea is, so maybe it won't be that bad," she offered, staring at the cauldron before turning her head to a different angle to look at it again. "Welp, good thing you'll be trying first!" She was so sure of this, even as they continued to make their moves. They went back and forth, each time it seemed like someone would pull out ahead, but then the other would, before...

O| X | O
X | X | O
X | O | X

"It's a tie!"