A Sour Brew

I'm late, I'm late!

Nova practically flew through the halls of the dungeons, the dimly lit corridor echoing with the sound of her steps. She had, once again, gotten lost and almost ended up back in the Great Hall because of a wrong turn.

She burst through the door, breathing heavily and casting an apologetic glance towards the Professor before looking around the room. She could tell from how everyone was in pairs that they were making potions instead of just theory.

She swept her gaze across the room, her eyes eventually landing on the only person sitting alone and waiting for a partner. Mikey. Of course it was.

She hesitated for half a second before striding over and gently dropping her bag onto the table, glancing at him. She had been seething quietly for a week now, and it was like the Universe was giving her an opportunity to get back at him.

But she stopped herself just short of speaking, deciding that she would wait just a little to give him a chance to apologize. He was clearly trying to avoid looking at her, and she let out a small huff.

"Finally turned down the volume, I see," she murmured, taking out her books and a few quills from her bag before sliding into the stool next to him. "My eardrums might finally recover."

“Just so you know,” she continued lightly, as though she were commenting on the weather, “if this thing explodes, I’m telling them it was your fault.”

She reached over and started flipping through her Potions book, eventually reaching the right page. “I mean, I’ve already got the reputation of a thief. Might as well be an unhinged one too.”

Thoughts - Italic ~ Nova's Speech - #a88400 ~ Mikey's speech - #1f2def

NOTES

@Mikey Forville

WORD COUNT: 285/200 words

Mikey did not answer right away. He simply stared at the sheet of paper in his hand, eyes running over the ingredients of the Muffling Draught but not really reading any one of them. His jaw was clenched. Her tone had that rather familiar edge of wanting to get him angry. He did not take the bait.

Of course, she brought up the ring. Not directly, no, but always between them, hovering in the air like the lingering smoke from a dud firework. The timing of everything. Her comments. The way that she always seemed to play everything off as if nothing actually did matter. He hadn't lost it. It never left his sight. Not until, well. Not until that morning they'd fought.

You know, he snarled, low tone, "if I was raising my voice, perhaps it was because I was sick of pretending like everything was okay." He didn't glance her way. "Perhaps I grew tired of everyone pretending like they didn't see what was going on.".

The potion in the cauldron was only just starting to shift color, a faint blueish tint, and his hand trembled as he lifted it to stir it. One, two he had lost count, unsure whether this was the clockwise stir or the counter. His stomach twisted. Clockwise first or not?

The potion let out a tiny hiss.

He sucked in his breath and pulled the rod free as if it was biting him. "Excellent," he snarled, turning back to the page, trying not to catch his hands trembling as he read through the instructions again. He hadn't meant to make a mistake. But her being this close to him, acting like everything was fine. His ring was still gone. it wasn't fine. He finally looked over at her, and his voice was quieter. “Just don’t touch anything unless you’re sure what you’re doing. This one actually can explode.” He said trying to cover up his own mistake.

Nova glanced up just in time to catch the clenching of his jaw as he pretended not to be affected by her words. It wasn't that hard to tell he was. Just looking at his facial expression for longer than a few seconds, everything he could be thinking would come pouring out.

"Ooh, how touchy," she murmured softly, her tone just a bit mocking as she leaned back on her stool. She knew she was provoking him, but she couldn't help it. The sweet silence of revenge lingered in the air with every second Mikey held back.

It was definitely irritating, how he refused to even look at her. She'd expected a better reaction than this, a retort back would have been nice. Then she'd have full reason to hurl jabs at him without feeling bad about it. Not that she did, she knew she was in the right this time. 

She opened her mouth again but before she could say anything, the potion hissed. And not in a good way. Like a cat about to attack a piece of furniture for being in the way. She sat up and glanced at the potion. It was fizzing a bit, but the bluish tint was there, so at least that was right.

She glanced at Mikey as he spoke, and an annoyed expression came on her face. "You don't have to tell me," she responded, her tone a bit sour as she flipped through her notes to find out what went wrong. "But you clearly made a mistake. Did you forget what the difference between clockwise and anti-clockwise was?"

She knew that would sting a bit, but she continued, her tone more neutral now. "I actually want to pass this class. So maybe use the notes you've been staring at for the past 10 minutes?" 

Nova glanced at her notes again, looking for a way to fix the mistake Mikey had made, but before she could, the potion fizzed again, louder this time, fumes spreading through the air. She glanced at it and her eyes widened as she tried to move back.

Thoughts - Italic ~ Nova's Speech - #a88400 ~ Mikey's speech - #1f2def

NOTES

@Mikey Forville

WORD COUNT: 351/200 words

Mikey's body stiffened, the potion releasing an even more frantic hissss, the surface churning as if debating whether to boil over or simply explode. His eyes winced at the cauldron, instincts finally taking over for the chaos in his head. He moved fast, but calculated, despite his nerves being scattered. He dropped in two eel eyes. He started to stir. Two slow, steady turns anticlockwise, disregarding the slight tremble of his hand then one slow, careful turn to the left. Nothing for a moment. Then the color broke. The unstable blue fizz stabilized to dull blue mist, cloudy and thick but no longer unstable. The hissing ceased. The surface became still. The air around them even appeared to grow quiet. Mikey replaced the stirrer with a careful click against the rim of the cauldron. He breathed out a sigh of relief.

He didn’t look at her once after the potion settled down. instead he occupied himself by cleaning up the papers and notes lying across his side of the bench. His hands moving in a fake calm. His quill fell from the parchment and he snagged it out of the air without so much as looking up. "Thank you," he said drily, "for assuming that I was not taught how to stir a potion. Inspirational, really." He said sarcastically.

It wasn't until then that he looked away and caught a glance of Nova's face. He couldn't quite tell if it was guilt or simply more irritation. It didn't really matter. He wasn't in the mood to guess her thoughts and feelings anymore. "I was distracted," he continued, voice rough around the edges. "Not stupid. And yeah, I've been going through my notes because I made them. Myself." The glance he shared with her was brief but unpleasant.

He let the silence stretch for a few seconds. The only sound was the low bubble of the potion simmering gently now. It was well behaved as if it hadn’t nearly blown up seconds ago. Mikey leaned back with arms crossed. “Funny how you’re the one who keeps joking about being an ‘unhinged thief,’ but I’m the one missing something,” he said, eyes straight ahead. “Weird, right?” He didn’t expect or an answer. He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to get out of this anymore. He just knew the hurt hadn’t gone anywhere. It sat with him like a second shadow. After a moment, he shifted his tone cooler, but still pointed. “We’re halfway through this potion and I'd prefer not to burn my eyebrows off today, so… if you do have a real input that isn't served with a side of sarcasm, now would be a great time.”

He stared at her again, his expression inscrutable. And he spoke, still furious but relenting in his tone. "I don't want to fight. I don't. But play like nothing ever happened? That is not going to cut it either." He glared back down at the cauldron, observing the soft swirl of the potion as if somehow it would contain some solution he lacked. "So if we are going to do this, then let's actually do this. Potion, class, whatever. Just… for one minute, stop the act." His fingers tapped once on the table before falling still once more. He had nothing more to say. He really did not have anything more to say.

Nova felt panic build up in her chest as the potion churned around in the cauldron. She reached out, trying to do something to fix it, but Mikey got there first. He gently redid the steps, possibly panicking as well. If he was, he definitely hid it better. The potion slowly shifted back to a calm mist. She tried not to breathe it in, fanning the air around while grimacing at the slight stench.

She rolled her eyes as he went back to being snarky as if their potion hadn't just tried to eradicate them. "It's not hard to assume so. I'm sure anyone would come to the conclusion after talking to you." Her tone was sweet—kind, even—despite the obvious venom lacing her words.

Her eyes flickered towards him, meeting his gaze for a bitter moment before shifting to the potion in front of her. She gave a small snort at his reaffirmation that the notes were indeed his, as if she needed to be told. She could tell. The absolute mess of it made it hard to assume otherwise. Yes, she couldn't compare her own to his. They weren't any better. But even so.

The silence that followed his words was comforting. Like a blanket to block out the buzzing sound in her ears that was Mikey's voice. Sadly, it came back almost as quickly as it had gone. She sighed loudly, knowing he'd hear it.

She turned to him, eyes cold as she responded to his little rant. "This wouldn't be happening if you would just apologize. Y'know—the thing where you own up to the fact that you screwed up?" She sat up, starting to grind the leeches into a paste. She let the silence fill up between them, the only sound being the pestle against the mortar.

"I never said I wanted to fight, either. But I don't like forgiving people without them asking it. Or at least trying to." She reached across the table and grabbed the spoon, gently dropping three spoonfuls of the sticky paste into the cauldron. She could feel his eyes on her as she stirred the potion, her movements measured.

She didn't feel bad for all the things she thought of him, or the little jabs she had thrown out without a care. The small sting of regret would be there, but she would ignore it. Hopefully long enough for him to say what she was still waiting to hear.

Thoughts - Italic ~ Nova's Speech - #a88400 ~ Mikey's speech - #1f2def

NOTES

@Mikey Forville

WORD COUNT: 408/200 words

Sorry for the lateness!

The scrape of the pestle in the mortar had a sharpness to it that made Mikey’s teeth clench. He didn’t speak as Nova stirred three perfect spoonful’s, her movements precise, annoyingly confident. Not that he was going to admit that out loud. He just watched her work, jaw locked and eyes slightly narrowed, like he was waiting for her to slip up. She didn’t.

The potion thickened to the right consistency. Of course it did. Her words rang out, flat and cool: This wouldn’t be happening if you would just apologize. It took him a second to react. A flicker of something crossed his face surprise or frustration or Maybe both. Then it hardened into something unreadable.

His voice, when it came, was quiet. “Right.” He nodded slightly, not looking at her, eyes locked on the swirl of darkening potion. “Because the only version of this story that matters is yours.” For a moment, he said nothing. Then he leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingers loosely intertwined. “You think I wanted that to happen?” His voice was still low, but this time the sharpness beneath it was more tired than angry. “You think I woke up that day and thought, Hey, I feel like yelling at someone today. She looks like a good target.”

He finally looked up at her. And something in his expression cracked. “I just lost my dad’s ring and you were the only one close enough to have taken it. I panicked. You know.” It hung there, awkwardly, like a confession that had slipped out too fast. Mikey immediately looked away, hands tightening where they rested against the wood of the table. His next words were quieter.

“I’m sorry. Okay? There. You win.” He didn’t say it with bitterness, more like surrender. Not dramatic or exaggerated. Just tired. “I don’t know how to fix this. And maybe you don’t want to. But… If you really didn’t take the ring, then I’m sorry I freaked out.” Mikey raised a vial in a silent offer, waiting for her to decide whether they’d finish the potion together.

Nova knew Mikey was watching her. Did she care? No, for the most part. He was like a hawk, waiting for a mistake to be made. She didn't want to give him that satisfaction. Her movements were slow and precise, the exact opposite of her mind at the very moment.

Despite the bite in her words, her mind felt like a hurricane of thoughts. She gave him a quick glance, eyes flickering over his face to see his reaction. He seemed surprised. A small smile creeped up on her face as she looked away. One point for me.

The smile quickly faded at his next words, turning into a small wince. She didn't know how to reply to that, giving a non-committal shrug. He leaned towards her and she looked up from her wand, which felt heavy in her hands.

Her expression hardened at his words and she felt the urge to snap back at him. She took a small step back, as if putting a wall of some sort between them. She opened her mouth to retort, possibly another snarky reply when he finally looked at her.

His face seemed... tired, of some sort. Probably tired of being a bastard so often. Her mind immediately went, and she shushed herself chidingly. His words seemed forced, like a joke trying to hard to be funny. She cut him some slack, giving him a small, slightly amused smile.

Her gaze dropped to the vial he held out as he somehow, apologized, to her. She blinked once. Then twice. Nova didn't know how to react, whether she should question it or just accept it. She chose the latter, taking the small vial from him as it glinted in the dull light in the Potions Classroom.

"I didn't think it'd be this easy to get an apology from you, y'know." She finally answered, taking the easy route. She glanced at their potion which was swirling around in a pretty shade of blue.

"Thanks, though." She murmured more quietly, reaching for something to pour the potion into the vial. "I didn't know it was that important to you." She felt a sense of relief at their conversation, like a weight had been taken off of her shoulders. She gave him a smile before talking again. "Let's finish up already, then."

Thoughts - Italic ~ Nova's Speech - #a88400 ~ Mikey's speech - #1f2def

NOTES

@Mikey Forville

WORD COUNT: 386/200 words