A Bitter Brew PV Ophelia Vanderbilt

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Cassiel, being self-involved in the way children of his ilk often were, didn't have an inkling of what kind of student Ophelia Vanderbilt was. Despite the fact that her notes were covered with miscellaneous doodles rather than notes, he assumed she wasn't a terrible one. At the very least, she'd never brewed a potion so disastrous it drew any sort of negative attention from him. She seemed nonplussed at his sudden appearance, a sign that he chose to take as a good one. He flipped to the appropriate page of his textbook. The potion they were brewing was simple enough, but Cassiel was determined to not only do things right, but to earn high praise for his efforts. The last letter his parents had sent to him contained nothing but cloying adulation for his older brother, who was apparently flourishing as an Auror. Afflicted with the need to prove his worth while shrouded in his brother's looming shadow, Cassiel resolved to work harder at school. "I'll get the equipment, you get the ingredients?" Again, though his utterance was technically a question, Cassiel stood to collect their tools before Ophelia could either agree to or reject his proposal. He went to fetch equipment shelves at the back of the room, his Potions partner at the forefront of his thoughts. Though his selfishness had a tendency to render him blind towards the feelings of others, even Cassiel could detect his partner's deflated mood. One didn't need to have an in-depth knowledge about someone's inner workings to catch the signs. From the slouch of her shoulders to the faraway look in her eye, Ophelia's mind was very clearly somewhere else. The thought plagues him as he returns to their desk. It was possible that the quality of his work could be affected by the daze she's lost in. Cassiel shoots her an inquisitive look. "Are you all right?" Though his inquiry lacked finesse and subtlety, it was not devoid of sincerity. He genuinely was concerned about her mental state, particularly if he could be affected by it. ♜ ♜

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Cassiel came from a household where the flagrant and forthright expression of ones true feelings was frowned upon, so Ophelia's reticence was nothing out of the ordinary for him. Still, regardless of how self-motivated his worry may have been, he was mildly affronted when she brushed aside his concern with little more than a perfunctory response. At the very least, she could have concocted a vaguely believable lie, if only to assuage his easily bruised ego. "Suit yourself," he said with a shrug, trying to sound more unaffected than he actually was. It was obvious that things were not fine with his Potions partner, but Cassiel didn't have time to fret over problems she withheld from him; with an antidote to brew and a Potions mark on the line, they had more pressing matters to attend to. The Antidote to Common Poisons wasn't the most complex potion to make, but the intensity with which Cassiel reread its instructions implied that this very brew would be the difference between him passing and failing Potions. While he placed their cauldron upon its iron stand, Ophelia worked at crushing their Bezoar, and the excessive force with which she used to pulverise the ingredient was far more honest of a response to his inquiry than her earlier insitence was. "Everything's fine. Sure." He stretched the word out, making it abundantly clear how unconvinced he was. "Does that Bezoar happen to owe you money? Because you're roughing it up like it does." His unhelpful comment, dry and droll, was delivered with a raised eyebrow and a pointed look. ♜ ♜

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It wasn't like Cassiel to be so curious about other people's business, especially when their evasiveness made it obvious they were unwilling to expound further. But in this instance, Cassiel had more than just a horse in this race, his entire paddock was in play. Though it was in Defence Against the Dark Arts class where his older brother truly shined, Aurelius was also a proficient potioneer. To be anything less than great in this class would mean Cassiel would be behind his brother in yet another category. A potions partner who was out of sorts could mean the difference between a passable potion and a perfect one. But her lighthearted response gave him hope that perhaps her troubles weren't so influential that they would completely distract her. "How much?" He played along with the girl's good humour, feeling surprisingly levelheaded despite pressure he felt to brew a stellar potion. "Anything more than a few galleons and you should considering getting the knife involved." At her inquiry, Cassiel cast their textbook a quick glance. "We add the Standard Ingredient." Cassiel picked up the small drawstring pouch of herbs from their desk before measuring enough for their potion. As he sprinkled the correct amount into their cauldron, he gave Ophelia a sidelong glance. "Then we heat it at a medium temperature for five seconds." Cassiel drew his wand from his cloak pocket and lit the burn below the cauldron with a perfectly cast Incendio. After five seconds elapsed, he waved his wand above their brew. "Now we wait. My favorite part of brewing a potion." Though his tone was dry and droll, there was some truth to his claim. Despite his ambition to perform well, Cassiel was no potion master. ♜ ♜

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