Caught Outside of Class PV Evelynn Decipio Closed

@Evelynn Decipio

When Evelynn scrutinized him, pointing out that he had already spent a good deal of time in the classroom brewing his potion, Jack averted his gaze, scowling. When she suggested it might have been fun for him, he rolled his eyes. "As if. Even if I felt like brewing the potion before, I'm not about to do the whole thing all over again after all the time I just used was wasted. I've had enough for one day."

Upon her explanation regarding why he was the only one to blame for his mess, he shrugged. "Fine, sure. I get jumpy. But I have good reason to be." Regarding her next question and following comments, though, he was less agreeable.

"Yeah, well maybe I don't care about passing first year. Ever think of that?" he shot back. "Maybe I just thought I'd try to see how simple it was to brew. But if it's going to be more trouble than it's worth to do everything all over again, why bother? I've got better things to do than to listen or care about your opinion. Like you said - 'whatever lifts your luggage'. But that isn't to say it lifts mine."

The third comment earned an unimpressed, half-lidded stare. "No, I wasn't," he replied dully in regards to what she thought he had been about to say. More like 'I'm not about to ruin another potion by trying to speed things up'. Care and attention had nothing to do with it.

"What do you mean I won't have to do as many steps the second time around?" Jack wanted to know. "Sure, I already prepared my ingredients and measured them out, but only enough for the first potion. It's going to take me just as long to do it all over again because I have to start from scratch."

The Welsh boy's eyes widened, however, at the girl's expressed wish to use one of the favors he owed her. Since the start of school, he couldn't recall anyone else ever having wanted to use a favor so quickly after he'd told them they'd earned one from him. It was quite unexpected.

Before he could speak a word in response, she was already elaborating on what, exactly, she wanted as a favor. He was glad she did, admittedly, since he didn't like having to wait for people to realize they had to specify pretty clearly what they wanted.

"That's a lot to ask in return for handing me some supplies or helping to clean up a spill," he commented calmly. "But I suppose it's possible that the fumes of my potion may have affected you, so it would mean that the favor I owe you in exchange for your doing that would also need to be worth more to make up for it." The boy sighed. "Very well. But only this one time."

Placing his bag back on the table near the Gryffindor, he went about taking out the necessary supplies he had just finished packing up.

How much of what the boy said was genuine and how much were half-truths or out-right lies, Evelynn couldn't quite tell. The roll of his eyes, the shrug of his shoulders, the cadence of his voice. One thing at least was certain, she touched nerves — albeit perhaps only lightly — at least once or twice. Although most of her assumptions seemed to have missed the mark to one degree or another (or so he would have her believe at least), she could take comfort in those few hits.

She wasn't prepared to think for an instance, for example, that he didn't care about passing first year. If that were the case, he wouldn't have been here in the first place. Plus, he seemed too innately crafty to her to desire passing up the knowledge and practicality of the spells that he would gain in later years. Thus, to that comment, she had only offered him a lidded smile.

The rest she had elected to gloss over at the time given her lengthy monologue.

What had come in response to her request to make use of the favour did not disappoint. She'd had a feeling that to do anything other than to be quite specific in her request would only invite a creative mind to find a loophole. That had been a lesson she'd learned early on at the crafty hands of her mother during one particular tabletop session. Clarity was important. And here, his comment that she had a lot to ask, well it only served to strengthen her self-satisfaction.

"If I recall correctly, you said 'let me know if I can do anything for you'. Anything. Anything leaves little room for limitation, you know. If this was a lot to ask, perhaps you might consider placing restrictions on these favours you hand out," she pointed out, finally unlacing her fingers on his approach to pull near her potions text book and flip it open to the one she wished to practice brewing.

"And what I had meant was that since you had just gone through the steps once, you would already be in the flow of the recipe. You wouldn't have to repeat any of your mistakes from last time, if you had any anyway, and would know what the next step was. You could work more efficiently. Although I might recommend preparing more than what you actually need. At least insofar as those ingredients that don't sour. Like powdering roots or the like. You could create a bit of a stockpile to cut down on your work for future potions."

Even as she spoke, she arranged her cauldron, poured in the necessary measure of water and lit a flame beneath it before pulling out a list of the ingredients she would need to fetch from the stores to accompany those she had brought of her own supplies.

"Truly only this one time, though?" She simpered, sliding her gaze over to him in his task of setting up again. "What a shame. It might have done us both well to have it otherwise.." With a melodramatic sigh, she rose from the stool to her feet. "As you wish.." she allowed. Even if it would be but a single occurrence, at least it could be a (hopefully) productive one.

[font=century gothic]INTERACTING WITH @Jack Burnett[/font]

@Evelynn Decipio

The Gryffindor girl's quoting of his previous, exact words caused Jack's thick brows to shoot up in amazement. A genuine, toothy grin stretched across his face in spite of himself. He didn't want to be impressed with the young lady, as he was beginning to grow annoyed with her lioness pride, but the more she spoke, the more it seemed that her words and observations earned his grudging respect.

"That's what I said, yes," he agreed slowly and calmly, gaze glittering as he regarded her in a new light; one perhaps more admiring but less forgiving than before. "However, I simply told you to 'let me know'. That request was far from guaranteeing an instant agreement."

He tilted his head, casting her a sideways look, but still beaming. "I make it a point to be sure that all involved parties approve of the terms and details before a deal is struck. Otherwise, what kind of exchange would that be? Certainly not a fair one." Jack tapped an index finger to his chin. "Or do you object?"

Clever. But not quite clever enough. That didn't mean she wouldn't ever get the better of him eventually, though. If he hadn't been cautious in his wording as a reflex, he could have very easily fallen into the trap of underestimating her intelligence and subjecting himself to her whims. He would have to watch out for this one; she seemed like a fast learner and he had no doubt she would learn his ways rather quickly given the chance. But oh, did he relish the potential she offered as a rival in wits.

The Slytherin listened as Evelyn mentioned being 'in the flow of the recipe'. Jack would have liked to say that his 'flow' had been disrupted the moment Evelyn had walked through the door, but quickly decided against it. There would have been nothing to gain from more complaining or arguing on that matter; only more time wasted. Besides, as subjective as the idea of 'already being in the flow' might have been, he couldn't deny she had a point about preparing more ingredients than one actually needed. Even if he himself didn't end up using them, he was sure someone could have. But then he caught himself.

He wasn't supposed to be agreeing with her methods of efficiency! He should have been keeping up the act that his school work wasn't all that important to him, much less that it was taken care of efficiently. The Welsh boy scowled suddenly, irritated with himself and the girl both.

"Perparing extra ingredients could be a waste," he found himself arguing anyway, already starting on measuring what he needed to. "Maybe you're some from some wealthy wizarding family, but I'm not, so I don't have money to waste on extra school supplies. Besides, what if one recipe calls for powdered lionfish spines and another calls for whole ones? If I powdered them prematurely, they could end up being useless."

The Welsh boy watched the ginger-haired girl out the corner of his eye, not responding immediately after she made an inquiry of him. His scowl twisted further, but then flattened out.

"We'll see," he replied at last. "Now that you know that I prefer equivalent exchanges in regards to favors, would you like to rephrase your request to match that of what is owed to you by having helped me clean up my mess and having been subjected to the fumes of my potion in the process?"

Apparent shock danced in the arches of the boy's lofted brows. Evelynn tilted her head slightly, a hint of scepticism settling into her gaze. In a way, his surprise had surprised her. It was as though he hadn't actually expected her to take him up on the offer. Or that she wouldn't be able to remember what he had said. Did he take her for a dullard? That thought left had left its impression in the crimping of her lips.

"I see." Coupled with her disappointment of pulling himself from his own loophole, a begrudging hum thrummed briefly in her throat. "Like a contract," she stated, acknowledging that what he was describing was effectively exactly that. Like when her mother would meet with someone to sign a paper that exactly outlined the expectations that both parties would then be legally bound to oblige. "No, I don't object. That seems fair enough."

She had fallen to relative silence after that, thoughts already directed back to his original offer and how else it might be twisted in a way to avoid following through with it. Evidently, great care would have to be taken when a counter-offer was eventually given lest he find a way to unshackle himself from that as well. He was clever. She could already tell that much. But whether he was the sort of clever she would come to admire and respect, or the sort that would slowly drive her to madness for the sense of constantly feeling like she had to chase it down and try to subdue it...that would yet to be seen.

But nevermind that right now. They had potions to brew and a limited time to do so. "It's not a waste," she countered when he had argued against her preparation suggestions. "Unless, of course," she continued, a thread of doubt colouring the tone of her voice, "you weren't planning on ever practicing this potion again in the future." But surely that couldn't be the case. Anyone worth their weight would surely want to repeat the potions a number of times in order to gain sufficient competence to pass the course. Then again... he had been rather dismissive of practice at all.

Which then would beg the question, "Why does it bother you so much anyway?" Her voice drifted from across the room as she took a temporary leave of her table to head towards the back of it. She would raise it to accommodate. "Are you low on ingredients? There's a store cupboard for a reason, you know. I'm sure the professor would be more than happy to lend you what you needed."

"As for those favours..." Glass would clink gently against itself or scrape against wood as she shuffled stored ingredients around in search of what she needed. Only once she'd found what she needed would she return to her seat and continue as though no time had passed, "For the first, what about if ever I find myself needing a hand to clean up some sort of mess, you help to clear it up with no questions asked and no relaying in any way what you saw, heard, smelled or did to anyone or anything. That seems about as equivalent an exchange as you can get, no?"

INTERACTING WITH @Jack Burnett

@Evelynn Decipio

"Yes, exactly. Like a contract," Jack agreed, pleased that Evelynn understood. Not only that, but she seemed to consent to his idea of fairness. "I'm glad you agree."

The line of his mouth twisted in thought and slight irritation when the Gryffindor mentioned that preparing ingredients ahead of time wouldn't be a waste unless he never planned on creating the potion again in the future. "True. But if I need those ingredients prepared in another fashion for a potion that I need to brew more immediately, I could be in trouble."

Her next question about why it bothered him gave him pause. "Yes, but lending ingredients suggest I have to pay him back and I already told you I hate being indebted to people. Besides, preparing things in advance for a potion I won't even know when I'll make again seems like a waste of time and energy to me. It sounds more like something a potions fanatic would insist upon. Is that what you are?" He cast her a jeering smirk.

That smirk promptly disappeared, however, when she brought up the subject of his favors again. "I thought the first favor was that you wanted me to keep you company while you brewed your potion right now," he reminded her, ceasing in the middle of his opening his text once again. "So wouldn't your request about cleaning up be your second favor? Or are you changing your mind about what you wanted for your first?" In which case it would have meant he had brought out all his potion-making things again for no reason at all.

"Trade, then," she suggested when the concept of lending was cast down as merely another means to find himself trapped in a state of owing. How dreadfully stressful his life must be, she reflected, if everything was considered on a spectrum of transaction. "Surely you could make an equivalent trade sparing you from such feeling of being indebted..

"And no, I'm not a potion fanatic," she emphasized, not keen on being labeled anything that would put her as an outlier in their year and keen to circle back to that previously expressed question. She just wanted to pass her courses, make up for the ignorance of a lifetime lived in the wrong world, and avoid confrontation with her peers. "Although I do find them rather fascinating. Many students struggle with tapping into their innate magical abilities—" Something she was assuredly not about to admit to, herself. "—but potion-brewing is like baking in many ways. Precise measurements and steps that when followed yields a reliable end result. But as rigid as it might appear, there seems like there could be a certain art to it. In baking, you can slightly modify the texture by how many times a mixture is stirred, or just slightly change the relative portions of ingredients to make something entirely different even with the same starting material. Potioneering is an entirely different sort of magic. Do you really not enjoy it at all?"

But whether he would entertain that continued train of thought, the more important matter remained to be the clarification of favours. Poor dear Evelynn experienced a very momentary lapse of confusion at his question, brows furrowing as everything seemed to come calling back at once. The sort where she was left remembering clearly that she had said "first", but couldn't understand why when she had clearly meant "second". The sort that could only be a result of an author sabotaging their own character in a given scenario after having forgotten pertinent details.

"Second was what I had meant, my apologies." It was never easy to clarify a personal mistake. It felt like a failing of some sort, like she was less than perfect and undeserving of being at such a prestigious school as a result. And even though this particular correction was so inconsequential in reality, it seemed to have the weight of a gross faux-pas just by the company she was currently keeping. "First to brew, second to clean," she repeated succinctly, pausing her preparations to look to the boy. "Is that agreeable to you?"

INTERACTING WITH @Jack Burnett

@Evelynn Decipio

"What would I have to trade a professor?" Jack wondered aloud. "All I could think of that might interest one is wizard money, in which case I might as well buy new ingredients at a supply shop. Unless you mean trade prepared ingredients for unprepared ones." Which, now that he thought of it, was probably what she meant to begin with. He reddened slightly then, embarrassed he had not thought of that first. "Fine. I suppose I could make a trade."

He listened as Evelynn explained she was not a potions fanatic but that she did find them fascinating. It was the rigidity of making potions with everything precise that he had found dull about the subject, but as the Gryffindor talked about how changing a recipie in the slightest way could yield much different results, he thought he began to understand her fascination. "I guess if we were allowed to make our own potions, that would be one thing," he conceeded grudgingly. "Too bad we merely get graded on how well we follow the instructions for the ones we're told to make."

On the other hand, while he found making potions to be somewhat boring and lacking in creative challenges, at least it was an easy enough class to pass if you knew what you were doing. Following instructions by the book meant there was little that could go wrong if one simply did as one was told. Maybe the next time he decided to mess around in class, he could spend his time trying out little changes and variations to the potion recipies they were given. Who knew? Maybe he could have ended up discovering an entirely new kind of potion.

Jack found himself somewhat surprised to find Evelynn apologizing to him for her mistake. After their fierce arguments starting with the disturbing intrusion of her coming into the classroom unannounced, the last thing he had expected was for what he had percieved as a prideful Gryffindor to admit to a mistake. The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly in a half smile as he found himself grudingly impressed by his peer. She had certainly proved to be clever from what he had learned of her so far, but her willingness to apologize was what earned some respect from the Slytherin.

"That's perfectly agreeable to me," he told her, going back to setting up his supplies for potion-making once more. "I suppose the sort of mess you need help to clean up could vary, couldn't it? Meaning the sort of help you require to clean it up could vary, too," he noted, but was once again pleased by the idea. It made everything all the more interesting.