Forget Friendly Faces PV Phaedra S. Finished

Phedra considered herself to be a decent potion-maker, at least for a first year anyway.  As much as she loved books, Phedra was relieved that Potions was of the few classes where a student could show tactical skill and handiwork without having to memorize lines and lines of material to regurgitate later. It was a breath of fresh air.

Sitting on a bench in the very first row, Phedra absentmindedly flipped through her copy of Magical Drafts and Potions, the pages reflecting orange flame from a nearby lit candle. She had read the instructions and ingredients of Forgetfulness Potion thrice now, only glancing up when those dreaded words from the professor reached her ears: "--will work in pairs for today."

Lovely, she thought, trying to mask her disappointment. She really wanted to try it on her own.

Before Phedra could search around the class for anyone she could tolerate for the next hour, she felt the bench shake as another student slid down it, suddenly much closer to her. She turned to the student, a Gryffindor boy whose face she recognized, having seen him around school before. She couldn't remember his name, however.

"Hey. If you don't have a partner yet, would you like to be mine?"

He seemed nice enough, so she tried to give him a small smile in return. It appeared forced. "Well, I guess we have no choice, now do we?

I'm Phedra," she stated, turning back to the table. "What's your name?" With her hands, she pushed her book neatly aside to make room for the potion-brewing. Despite the small talk, she was ready to work.

Max couldn't help a small smile from forming on his mouth; forced friendliness and a desire to get down to business. This, he could work with. He was tired of endless optimism and people seeming to think that they could do well if they were just happy-go-lucky towards the professor.

Rolling up his sleeves with careful precision - ruining the potion because his robes touched it wasn't a desirable option - he went over the list in his head one more time, quickly, before speaking to her. "Max Avery." There was something about familiar about her, and he doubted it had to do with simply seeing her around school. Lineage, then. He still couldn't quite place what family it was, but if he found she looked like a family he knew of then she could only be a pure-blood. That was even more satisfying.

"I don't know about you, but I think making two batches would be beneficial. We'd learn it better plus we'd each get to keep one." If she was ready to do away with small talk and get down to business, he was happy to comply. There'd be plenty of time for talking during the wait for it to brew. Right now, the most important thing was doing it right and snagging an O from this class. "I've heard this potion was on one of the finals at some point, too. Not sure if it will be this time, since the professor isn't the same, but - "

He muttered a spell to summon his cauldron to him, before tucking his wand away and swiping a quick finger around the inside to ensure there was no leftover potion. "Better to be safe than sorry."

At hearing his full name, a wave of realization crossed her features. "Oh! That's right. Avery. I should've guessed. You look like one... I think?" Her eyes briefly traveled down to his tie: red and gold. Wasn't the Avery family known to have a high association with House Slytherin? It was no wonder she couldn't place who he was, dressed up in his Gryffindor attire. Her mother's wizard genealogy books were well overdue for a revisit.

"I don't know about you, but I think making two batches would be beneficial. We'd learn it better plus we'd each get to keep one."

"That's a great idea, actually," she replied, smiling. "I already think I know what I'll do with mine," she blurted out, her tone playful but the implication clear. There were some little birds-- her mind went to one blonde-haired Ravenclaw girl in particular-- giving her competition in classes. Not that Phedra didn't think she could handle it on her own, but if she was given a reason to, she could play dirty. 

"I've heard this potion was on one of the finals at some point, too. Not sure if it will be this time, since the professor isn't the same, but better to be safe than sorry." 

She watched him gather his cauldron, pleasantly surprised. Truth be told, her first impression was expecting him to goof around like a lot of the other first-year boys. Yet here he was, already thinking ahead to finals. It was respectable. She spoke up, "That's a good way to think. And don't worry. We've got this. Easy O, for both of us, yeah?"

Rolling up the sleeves of her cardigan, Phedra glanced again at her potions book. She scanned over the short list.

Step One:

Add 2 drops of Lethe River Water to your cauldron.
Gently heat for 20 seconds.
Add 2 Valerian Sprigs to your cauldron.
Stir 3 times, clockwise.
Wave your wand.
Leave to brew for 20 minutes.

Step Two:

Add 2 measures of Standard Ingredient to your mortar.
Add 4 Mistletoe Berries to your mortar.
Crush into a medium-fine powder using your pestle.
Add 2 measures of your crushed mixture to your cauldron.
Stir 5 times, anti-clockwise.
Wave your wand to complete the potion.

"Lethe River Water, Valerian Sprigs, two measures of Standard Ingredient, and lastly, four Mistletoe Berries. I'll grab them while you get the cauldron situated over a burner, but don't light it yet." She shifted on the bench and brought each of her legs over one at a time to get out. She stood, smoothed out the folds in her skirt, and picked up a black bowl and one glass vial sitting in a stand from their table.

Walking over to the classroom wall, Phedra briskly examined the long rows of potion ingredients on multiple wooden racks. Once finding the first two necessary ingredients-- between gross things that made her scrunch up her nose, like eyes, slugs, and worms-- she placed them in their respective containers; a few drops of Lethe River Water into the glass vial, and a few sprigs into the bowl. Her hands full, she walked back to the table shared with Max and placed the gathered ingredients on the surface. She then took her mortar, and another clean bowl, and strolled back to the potion rack a second time.

After waiting patiently for the short line of students behind the Standard Ingredient to clear, she took two measures of the herbs, and into the mortar they went. Gathering the four berries was also a quick task, and afterward Phedra soon was back to her bench.

"Got everything. Let's get started. You ready?"

Max raised a brow at her statement about knowing what to with it, amused. So she was smart and ready to work, but she still had a somewhat mischievous side - that or competitive, but either one was good. "Easy O," he agreed, then listened to her rhyme off the list of things they'd need for the brew. All in all, it wasn't a complicated potion to make - the worst part about it was the wait between brews. Nodding, he went to work on his part while she got the ingredients.

It didn't take long to set up the burner and the cauldron; he made sure the steel frame holding the cauldron up was strong, since some of them looked like they hadn't been changed out since the First Wizarding War. That done, he flipped the gas on and took his wand out, pulling the burner away from the cauldron and muttering 'Incendio' to get it started. It was easy to adjust the flame using the gas after that, and he was fairly certain he had it at what could be considered acceptably considered a 'gentle heat.'

He played idly with the fire while he waited for Phaedra to finish gathering the ingredients, passing his fingers close enough to the blue flame to feel the bite of heat and them lifting them out again. He kept his eyes on her as he did it, narrowing them as he tried to think of who she resembled. That accent certainly wasn't London or Brummie... Manc, probably, though he'd have to hear her talk more to be sure. But if it was Manc, and if he coupled it with those dark eyes and hair...

He snapped his fingers, a grin lighting up his face. "Theseus's second wife. It's similar to that; that's Greek history." He looked back up at her as she approached to ask if he was ready.

"Right. Yeah, we can get started; I'll look after the stirring and heat if you want to put the ingredients in." It was definitely Manc. So... "Stavrou?" He hadn't meant to say it out loud but there was no taking it back once he did. Oh well; he was fairly certain. He couldn't think of another Greek pure-blood family, especially not one from Manchester.

"Sorry, I've been trying to figure it out. But... that's it, isn't it? You're from the Stavrou family."

"Stavrou? Sorry, I've been trying to figure it out. But... that's it, isn't it? You're from the Stavrou family."

Phedra paused, looking up from the vial of liquid she had started to measure with a pipet. "Oh. Yeah. I am." Her face began to flush a bit and she continued, "My parents are Giannis and Chrysa." She leaned towards Max's cauldron and put two drops of the Lethe River Water inside. "You know, it's strange," Phedra observed, placing the vial back into its rack after using, "you suddenly asking about my family made me realize I 'aven't thought about them at all since classes started."

Phedra restlessly drummed her fingers on the table surface, allowing the mixture to boil in Max's cauldron for the twenty seconds their book recommended. She decided to use that time to continue the conversation. "My family is massive," she admitted, chuckling at the phrase's complete understatement; there were at least seven different families tied to hers through marriage on her grandfather's side alone. "Mostly made of Ravenclaws, but there's lots of Slytherins and the few odd Gryffindors. Every summer we travelled to my mum's childhood home in Greece to visit extended family. It used to be the only time I was around kids my age. That's why I was so excited to get here in Hogwarts.

Mum and dad told me to write to them but... I'm mad at them," she huffed. "I expect I'll get a Howler any time soon for it."

Phedra started to wonder if she had vented too much too soon. Her family always put on an act of appearing as proper as possible, and her comments weren't helping. Whatever she was angry at her parents for, she didn't clarify, and instead, she reached over for the Valerian sprigs, took two of them and added them to cauldron so Max could stir. Hoping to quickly switch the topic to Max in return, Phedra turned back towards him. "I'm sorry. I haven't asked you anything. Your family is big too, isn't that right? What were they like?"

"Ah," Max said, happy he'd gotten it right. He listened to her as he moved the burner under the cauldron, snippets of conversations about the family coming back to him now as she spoke. He was fairly certain he'd heard his own parents approving of her parents' views, and he knew that they'd be pleased beyond belief to hear that he'd worked on a potion with the young Stavrou girl. He was surprised that she hadn't thought about them overmuch, though - he found himself thinking of his own family often.

Keeping an eye on the potion to make sure the heat wasn't too much, he remained silent as he listened to her talk about how large her family was. It was quite familiar; his own family was large, though the majority of people on both sides were Slytherin. Still, he imagined Ravenclaws were somewhat similar in that they were clever and that cleverness could lead to ambition. For all the talk of how different the houses were, there were certainly some similarities between all of them.

He was curious as to why she was angry with her parents, but before he could ask she'd added the Valerian sprigs and he concentrated on stirring clockwise, counting off three under his breath before waving his wand. By the time he was done, she was already asking about his family and he hadn't gotten a chance to ask.

"Yeah, they're also quite large," he said, watching the potion begin to bubble merrily. "I expect they're similar to yours, except my cousins and all were around here so I got to see them a lot more often. You know how pure-bloods are. Father's your usual Slytherin. Mother was a Rosewood so she's... well, typical for them. Probably wouldn't send a Howler, but I did get one letter from her. 'We'll talk when you get home.' That's it; she didn't even write my name at the top. Her version of a Howler, you could say. Seems like we're both in similar boats with our families."

He didn't say what she was angry for either, though it probably wasn't hard to guess. Thinking about it made him realize that he also didn't want to talk about it; the thought of their anger made him uncomfortable and he changed subjects quickly too. "But, anyways, they're pretty boring. What's Greece like? I've never been there but they have the most interesting histories."

Phedra listened attentively as Max told her about his family. All of his experiences seemed close enough to hers; pure-blood, brooding and prying parents, with a large family and many cousins. She was surprised their families had never been formally introduced, to her knowledge at least. Phedra was fairly certain the Avery family was listed on the - what was it called again? - The Pureblood Directory?  It was published years ago, but her parents nonetheless were obsessed, and claimed it still held weight. She would have to mention the Avery in a future letter. She knew her mother especially would approve of if that was the case.

"But, anyways, they're pretty boring. What's Greece like? I've never been there but they have the most interesting histories."

She laughed. "You really have a liking for history, don't you? Anyway..." She paused to think of a response. "Greece is beautiful. My mother is a Kathopoulis; they live on an island called Lefkada. The town is small, but the beaches and food make up for it. Other parts of my family come from the outskirts of Athens. It's quite busy and chaotic in that city, but the weather is perfect all the time. Also, cats! Lots of them everywhere."

"My family's place in Greece is surprisingly simple - not in a bad way - just very peaceful. I wasn't born or raised there, but I consider it my home."

Max's potion bubbled and foamed lightly, a clear sign that so far the potion-brewing was going well. "Well, that looks fine," said Phedra, pulling away after peering into the cauldron. "Should we get started on mine while yours sits and brews?" The question was rhetorical, and she eagerly reached over to grab her own cauldron and set it over another burner. With her left hand, she picked up her wand from its place between her book's pages, and gave it a quick wave. "Incendio," she pronounced clearly, a red jet of flame shooting out from the tip of her wand towards the burner.

Phedra eyeballed the gas level on Max's cauldron, leaning down to mimic the same on hers. After adjusting the gas, her cauldron was too now being heated 'gently.'

"I'll stir this time."

He offered her a half-grin, nodding happily at her statement about liking history. Listening to her talk about Greece was a real treat. He'd read about the architecture there and he could picture how incredible it would be. Especially on an island; cerulean ocean stretching out forever as you relaxed on a beach and munched on amazing food. He certainly knew where he'd be adding to his vacation list - if he ever got out of school and became decent at spells, at least.

His grin grew at the mention of cats and he decided that the entirety of Greece was to be on his bucket list, from the islands to the cities. He couldn't even imagine what it must be like to be from a place so saturated in old memories with the bones of old buildings still standing. To have family from there... he was almost jealous of her being descended from great Greek wizards. Almost, but she clearly appreciated it and didn't take it for granted, so it was well-deserved.

He was startled out of the reverie her voice and words had sent him into when she spoke about the potion, and a quick glance showed him that he didn't have to worry about smoking up the room this time. "Yeah, sounds good, I'll go grab the ingredients." It didn't take long for him to gather up the Lethe River Water and Valerian Sprigs, popping back to the table to add the water to the cauldron before heading back with his mortar to grab the Standard Ingredient and Mistletoe Berries. It was done within fifteen seconds, and he waited another five before tossing in the Valerian Sprigs.

All in all, this was definitely shaping up to be a nice O for this class. With this extra practise they'd both have it fully memorized for the final if it was on the final this year.

Watching the flames beneath the cauldrons steadily burn, he pursed his lips as he tried not to blurt out the question he wanted to ask. It was childish and stupid to blurt out questions, but he truly did have a burning desire to know what others thought about it. Drumming his fingers on the table wasn't helping decrease his desire, either, so finally he gave up and asked anyway.

"So... what do you think of Voldemort?" There were a few glares for him saying the name out loud, but he ignored them. The bloke was dead, and no amount of naming was going to bring him back; the few people who were still afraid of his name were ridiculous.

After Max tossed the sprigs into the cauldron, Phedra stirred clockwise, mentally counting as she did. One... two... She kept her hand steady to avoid any bumping or splashes from the cauldron onto the table. Since the conversation was over their respective families, she couldn't help but be reminded of her early childhood, those small, happy memories helping her mother cook. Except then it resulted in delicious treats such as baklava; not a bubbling, frothing concoction that did god knows what once ingested. Although there was that one time when she tried cooking a new recipe alone -

A smile formed on her lips as she recalled the incident, but she maintained her concentration on the task at hand... Three. Three stirs. She pulled out the large wooden spoon and tapped it gently on the cauldron's rim to remove any excess liquid, just like her mother taught her. Phedra could get that much correct in the kitchen at least. The spoon was laid gently on the table surface, her wand taking its place.

With a wave of her wand, the potion was complete, for the first part at least. It would have to sit and brew for the next twenty minutes.

Suddenly, Max's voice snapped her out of her daydreams; she was getting quite comfortable in the silence. She turned to him in anticipation, her wand lowering.

"What do you think of Voldemort?"

The air around her suddenly felt very chilly. There it was. Phedra had a feeling it would come up eventually. It was to be expected being in pure-blood families such as theirs. But asking it so casually in front of others made Phedra feel put on the spot. There was no warning or buildup, and she was sure a few pair of eyes (and ears) had shifted their attention to her and her partner. After a long uncomfortable silence, she shook off the feeling, and finally began to speak.

"He tried doing what needs to be done, yeah?" The question seemed unnatural and rehearsed coming from her. What it was exactly that "needs to be done" and how it would be beneficial, Phedra could not answer entirely, though she could guess. What would an eleven year old know of complex magical politics? Regardless, Phedra had an image to uphold and parents to please. She then continued on.

"My father and uncles used to work for him. Uncle Lynceus died bravely in battle. Uncle Chris - " Phedra moved in closer to Max and softened her voice to a whisper, "He's in Azkaban now. He's been there before I was even born. But I know dad would do anything to get him out," she said without shame or hesitation. None of this was a secret - the arrests were quite a big deal during the time, but she wanted to brag.

"I admire his magical ability. Wish I could've seen it. Dad said it was even greater in person. And horcruxes - so brilliant." She finally scooted away from Max, the wooden seats creaking with each movement. She reached up from the seat to check on her potion brewing again, and quickly sat back down after investigating. It was bubbling quite nicely.

"What about you, Mr. Max Avery?" she said grinning, one eyebrow raised. "What do you think of the Dark Lord? Your family served him for many years alongside mine, if I'm not mistaken."