Potion Brewing Form System

Encyclopedia: Click me!
Potion: Madame Glossy's Silver Polish.
Ingredients: Ingredients: 3 Streeler Shells, 1 measure of Silver Powder, 6 fl. oz. of Neem Oil, 1 Bone, Essence of Wormwood

Roleplay:

Reducio

July, Summer Break

Empty.

Xailah stared at the unsalvageable residue, that clung in sparse swatches on the inner sides of a Madame Glossy's Silver Polish canister. Feline golds flickered from the container to the vast array of silverware methodically sprawled across the workspace. She remained like that for some time, square cloth in hand, just staring with a blank expression, looking at the sad scrapings as if staring hard enough would magically make more materialize. This did not happen.

Much to her inconvenience.

Reluctantly, she began searching her room for more, but was met with the disappointing realization that there wasn't anymore. She had used all the polish she had owned- which had been a lot of polish. Though she stared, dumbfounded, into the abyss of her little supply cabinet, she wasn't all too surprised that she had diminished her stash. She frequently went through so many containers of the polish, you'd think she was eating the stuff. It wouldn't be much of a surprise to anyone if she was. There had to be an explanation for her lustrous complexion.

Xailah was tempted to put her little project away, and call it complete. But she knew doing so would just make more work for herself later on. Maybe she could buff the rest of the silverware out? But then they wouldn't be as shiny as the sealed pieces. Ugh. Such a dreadful predicament.

The Lord and Lady of the Alptraum estate were out for the day. They couldn't be asked to retrieve more product. And Xailah didn't feeling like going out. She had been asked to stay put and keep her sister entertained... Meadow could keep herself entertained well enough, Xailah figured the least she could do was oblige with half the request and stay home.

She had been close to accepting defeat when the idea came to her- she could what she did best: make things. She could make more silver polish. The recipe for the concoction had been taught in Care of Magical Creatures, if she recalled. She was certain she remembered all the steps too. Maybe her project wouldn't have to be put off for another day after all. Hurrah.

Excitedly, Xailah tip-tapped down one of the many staircases in the house. When at the landing she paused and turned to face the way she had came. "Meadow?" She called up the stairs, her voice carrying through the semi-emptiness of the house. "Komm her.*" Silence. There was no immediate movement from upstairs indicating Meadows footsteps. Xailah listened to the nearby ticking of a clock, and the surrounding noises of someone- one of the unseen house servants presumably- shuffling around a few rooms down. She leaned into the stairs carved newel post. "Please?" An added afterthought.

A answer finally came not long after. "Cooooming!" A little voice sang from above. The light patter of scampering feet rang across the floor. Bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked, Meadow appeared at the top of the stairs, with something in her fist. Her hair was tousled as if she had been trying to fix it up all pretty. She was in one of her spring dresses and hats. Odd attire for indoors, but Xailah knew her sister well enough to assume she had interrupted a very important tea party when she had called for the younger girl.

"I need some help." She waved Meadow down. If there was one thing to note about Meadow, it was that she relatively enjoyed helping others. Doing so usually meant a reward afterwards. So why not help? Nodding, the little flower child pit-patted down the rest of the flight to meet her sister. Xailah lead the way to a large room- it could be assumed to be an extension of one of the kitchens. "Here, you can learn something." The older girl pointed to a chair at a table, indicating she wanted her sister to sit. Meadow cooperated, flumping into the seat.

Xailah turned from her sibling and began gathering the ingredients she needed from around the house. Once she had everything, she presented all of it at the table, laying all the ingredients in a straight line. Pushing a pair of gloves towards her sister, she gestured for her to put them on. Meadow followed. Then Xailah began preheating a cauldron. While she waited she put a few Streeler Shells into a mortar and began crushing them. Meadow grabbed the first thing she saw among the lineup.

Out of the corner of her eye, Xailah saw the silver powder leave the table and travel up to her sisters face. Anticipating the younger girls intentions, she whipped around. "Don't eat it!" Xailah cried, reaching to snatch the ingredient from her sister. Meadow pulled away, like an animal who had just obtained something it wasn't supposed to have and was now about to make a break for it. Thankfully Meadow was not a dog, or some other primitive critter, and did not budge from her seat. A chase was not necessary. "I wasn't going to!" The guilty child exclaimed. "I was only thinking about it." She then muttered, rolling her eyes. As if that was also acceptable.

Xailah shook her head in disapproval. "Well stop 'thinking about it' and prep it for the cauldron." Mocking leers were exchanged between the two girls, but Meadow eventually obliged with her sisters order. She measured a small amount of the powder out with a teaspoon, and added it to the mortar with the shells. Xailah gave the powdery mix a gentle stir to combine everything, before adding it to the warmed cauldron. Then, taking the Neem Oil in hand, she measured six ounces of the liquid to join the ingredients in the cauldron. Allowing everything to brew for a few minutes she handed the mortar and pestle she had been using, over to Meadow. She dropped a few small bones in the stone bowl for the girl to crush.

The blue-eyed girl eagerly ground the bits of ivory into the finest powder she could manage, before handing the finished product back over to her sister. The bone was sprinkled into the cauldron, and the mortar was set to the side. They wouldn't be needing it anymore. Picking up the nearby bottle of wormwood essence, Xailah added a few droplets into the cauldrons powder and oil mix, with an eyedropper. Two doors, she counted quietly in her head. Then it was time to stir everything together. Handing a spoon over to Meadow, she let the younger girl take the joy of watching a potion come together. "Three times. Counter clockwise." She instructed. Once Meadow was done stirring, Xailah reduced the heat to low, so that the concoction would not burn. "Now we let it brew for a few more minutes untouched." That meant they could play a short game while they waited.

When the two children came back from play to check on their creation, they would find the cauldrons contents almost looked to be the right consistency- but there was one last step that needed to be completed. Producing her wand from somewhere nearby, Xailah waved the length of wood over the mouth of the cauldron. There. Now the lacquer was complete. But there was only one way to make sure the polish actually turned out right. Glancing around, the eldest girl spied the perfect test subject resting near her sisters hand.

Xailah indicated to a pink stone Meadow had brought along with her. He- the pebble- had been sitting on the table since the brewing started. "Let me see Percival." Xailah said, holding out a gloved hand. The small rock was placed gently in her palm. With her free hand she scooped up some of the newly brewed concoction onto a clean rag and brushed over the pebble, wiggling it between the creases of the fabric, making sure the polish covered the whole surface.

Percival was revealed once Xailah made sure he had been well-shined. Pulling the rock from the swaddling scrap cloth, Xailah gave it back to Meadow. A small ooh escaped her lips. "See how shiny? I think it is safe to say this was a successful brew. Not that I had doubts."

*Come here

Potion: Draught of Living Death.
Ingredients: Standard size 5 cauldron, 12 Sopophorous Beans, 250 fl. oz. water, 5 oz. African Sea Salt, 40 fl. oz. of essence of wormwood, 3 Valerian Roots, 150 fl. oz. of Powdered Root of Asphodel.

Roleplay:

Reducio

Early September

It was quiet in the Room of Requirement, save for the gentle clicking of glass and metal instruments. The small orchestra of chiming equipment echoed diligence, and whoever was working with the utensils was making sure to move with precision. The tune was melodic, reflective of someone with a steady, trained hand. Should anyone have the desire to find out who this conductor was, they would have to seek permission from the room first. Not an easy task in itself, especially when the thoughts required were... of incredibly specific origin.

Hovering over an array of potion equipment and unusual ingredients, was the sixth year metamorphmagus Xailah Alptraum. She usually only came to the Room of Requirement to work on her tinkering projects, or modify her brooms, sometimes practice silk dancing- a hobby she had just recently discovered- if the room allowed. It was an escape and a reliable source of quiet, for when such was desired. Maybe that was why she had chosen to brew in the room. Quiet. She needed solitude, so she could focus all her attention on what she would be creating.

Now, Xailah couldn't make a casserole if you asked, yet she could take apart a car and put it back exactly how it was. Surprisingly, she was a fairly good potioneer, despite having no interest or desire in the subject.

It was no simple task- brewing a potion- it required lots of patience, precision, and quick thinking if something were to go wrong. Xailah couldn't afford to make mistakes with this potion. It was the most complex one she had ever attempted to brew, making more than enough room for errors to be made. With the amount of care she put into her any of her creations, screw ups were rare. But that didn't mean they weren't possible.

She had salted some water in a glass beaker already, and was just finishing up chopping some Sopophorous Beans while she waited for the saltwater mixture to steep. It was always interesting to watch her work. She moved like a little machine; her hands switching between instruments and ingredients with an acute, inhuman grace. Placing the beans aside, she transferred the beakers contents into a nearby cauldron. A cylinder with essence of wormwood was taken into her left hand. Tipping the cauldron with her other hand, she carefully added a few drops of the wormwood. Switching hands, and angles, she allowed the rest of the liquid to dribble into the cauldron. Xailah had prepped some valerian root before hand. She placed the sliced tubers into a clean beaker and added water. The mixture was allowed to reduce, while she went back to the beans she had chopped. They were a soupy mess now. Perfect for extracting their juices. The bean juice, and reduced liquid in the beaker went into the cauldron, mindful of any plant roots. Stirring ten times clockwise, the mixture in the cauldron began to change in hue, assuming a lovely shade of purple. The draught was nearing completion.

This potion was for someone who had been lingering in the back of Xailahs head since fall of last year. Longer than that actually, but the puzzle pieces didn't click until that fateful autumn night. The potion was for a hag. A hag Xailah fully intend to remove from the grounds- or at least try to. That was why she was brewing a Draught of Living Death- a tranquilizer that had seen some popularity in the recent years due to some mysterious, and unfortunate mishaps. Now, Xailah wasn't the vengeful type. But there were some things she just couldn't shake. People that purposefully inflicted trauma was one of them. The hag problem was no secret, and needed to be fixed. She had known since her second year, technically, way before the news was mainstream, and had been on the hunt since. But the specific hag she had in mind proved elusive.

Even more so when blanks began to conveniently appear later in the years (this is in reference to the food that was being poisoned by the elves). There had been minor spots in her memory- places that once contained a picture, but now possessed the vacant outline of a frame. It was a phenomenon that couldn't be explained, and it scared her for a time. Xailah had a remarkable memory, especially with faces and personalities. She never forgot them. That fear had changed however as time progressed. It began to slip away. Her mind was rebuilding itself. Images were rehanging themselves on their little hooks. She was relearning things. Retracing the outlines of fading faces. Echoing names she feared forgetting again; all while she went on this wild goose chase that had lasted a few years too long.

Funnily enough, it had become less of a chase and more of a waiting game as the years progressed. Taking on a hag headon was something Xailah was not opposed to, but knew there would be severe repercussions. It was a fight she likely wouldn't leave alive. And this was from someone who leapt at Half-Giants and flayed Hag Slugs without batting so much as an eyelash. As a child back then in her second year, waiting was all she could do, until she had the knowledge and skillset to outsmart a hag at its own dangerous game.

It had taken four years. Four years of waiting. Biding her time by researching the decrepit beings, nurturing their cursed creations in hopes of answers, strolling through the Forbidden Forest, and sifting through her own frustrations, just so she could have her chance to strike. And now, come sixth year, her patience had paid off. She would have her revenge (maybe)- in the form of an unsuspecting liquid bullet. And like all bullets crafted from lead formed by vengeance, this one had one name on it: Marion Davenport. The former blonde may have forgotten Xailah, might have not even noticed her, but Xailah never forgot that S.O.B Marion. That damn hag. Those damn hags.

Using her right hand, Xailah continued to stir the contents of the cauldron, only this time counterclockwise. Each stir was brisk and precise- taking only two and a half seconds- no more- no less. She counted quietly in her head, her lips mouthing the numbers. The color of the liquid began to bleed, fading out. When the concoction cleared and no longer displayed traces of lilac; seven square-cut pieces of Valerian root was carefully lowered past the cauldrons metal mouth. The stirring did not cease yet, the spiral of the current maintained a counterclockwise motion with the help of a stir stick. One, two, three... Six, seven... Eight, nine, ten. The stick stopped at ten rotations, and was removed. With a small spoon, one hundred and fifty fluid ounces of Powdered Root of Asphodel, was measured out and sprinkled across the slick surface of the homogenous mixture. Then holding the cauldron securely with her right hand; Xailah completed the last bit of stirring necessary. She took her stir stick into her left hand; and with gentle motions, mixed the potion ten times counterclockwise, and then again, eight times clockwise. The draught was then allowed to rest for two and a half minutes.

Once those dreadful two minutes came to an end, the contents in the cauldron were bottled with the utmost care. Held to the light, the liquid reflected only what bounced off the flask: the room, the light, and the potions creator. Transparency was something found in very few potions. The crystalline nature of this one was beautiful. But such a quality would not last. There was one last step that needed to be completed before corking the bottle.

With a pair of tweezers, a sliver of valerian root was placed into the potion. The liquid began shifting, revealing a powdery-pink color signaling completion. It was done.

Xailah released a long-held sigh, realizing what her success meant. This was it. This was Xailahs little bottle of revenge.

Approved, Aarden

Hunter's potion collection was rather vast and large, but he still required just a few more potions to turn it into a powerful collection that could account for multiple situations. The issue at the moment was it lacked power, offensive power. Currently, only one potion seemed really useful and powerful enough to be used for offense. He grabbed his protective gloves, a copper cauldron, and the necessary ingredients for today's potion.

While wearing his gloves, he added 2 sprigs of Peppermint and 1 Fire Seed to the cauldron. He turned on the heat to a low setting and allowed an hour to pass by. As the hour went by, Hunter could only daydream and debate with himself as time went by. He was in a secluded location, away from prying eyes and curious minds. Not once would he ever trust someone to watch him brew outside of the potions classroom. His way of thinking was really negative and only resorted to him becoming more lonely as time went by. He then chopped a ginger root, placed the chopped pieces into a mortar, and ground them with a pestle into a smooth paste. Adding it to the cauldron after the hour had passed, he then began to stir 5 times in an anti-clockwise motion. Turning up the heat to a medium temperature, Hunter added 1 jar of honey to the cauldron; letting it slowly ooze its way in. From what he recalled, the honey was present to actually help dampen the intense heat factors that the fire breathing potion had when consumed. The thought of accidentally melting one's tongue off was nowhere close to amusing for the young Ravenclaw boy.

He then stirred 5 times, in a clockwise motion, and waved his wand in front of the cauldron. 15 minutes went by smoothly with little to not issues. Hunter crushed 4 sprigs of lavender and poured them all into the cauldron, as well as 1 tablespoon of Flobberworm mucus to thicken the potion. 3 more stirs were conducted, in an anticlockwise fashion, and Hunter could already feel the thickening increase with each stir. He turned off the heat and waved his wand to finish the potion.

He placed the potions in glass vials, feeling the intense heat inside each almost like an unstable fire ready to break free. Hunter grinned, prepared for what was bound to come next.

Encyclopedia Link | link here
Potion | Anti-Paralysis Potion
Ingredients required | Syrup of Hellebore, Mandrake, Unicorn Horn, Moondew, Honey

Roleplay | word count: 650

Reducio

As Flash used the facilities for the second time in the year before September had even ended, he started to feel a sense of familiarity. He had another full mandrake, stewed, that he chopped up into cubes as the water in the pot came to a simmer. It was astonishing how useful these... roots were. He counted himself lucky that even though he had been handling them since his first year, he had never had any incident. Before adding it to the concoction, he would measure out and pour in the syrup of hellebore, which regardless of its poisonous status, had a refreshing floral scent. If only all potions smelled so good, instead of being deadly if brewed slightly wrong. He had considered learning how to cook, but somehow that came to him with much more difficulty than potion making. Perhaps it was because the precise nature of it suited him better than the improvization and reflexes needed to cook a meal properly. Or perhaps he hadn't tried very hard. Not thinking much of it, he added the chopped mandrake and stirred them together.

From there, he needed to place it on a medium flame until it bubbled. In the short time it took, he needed to grind up a tablespoon of unicorn horn in the mortar. It was a bit bittersweet, seeing as the horn was something he had been saving up for specifically to afford making this potion on his own. He needed to concentrate on making it the right consistancy, or he might need to buy all these expensive ingredients again. He was used to asking his retainer for whatever thing he needed, never having to worry about how much money anything cost, but it was different for potions. For one, he was starting to lose faith in his family and how much he could trust them. If he were to ever have any chance at not being completely dependant on them, he would need to start buying his own things and learning the value of a galleon. Thoughts like that would fill his head as he destroyed the horn.

From there, he would stir clockwise four times and add the moondew, which produced a thick fog into the room. He always tried to brew alone, so there would be no one around to bother with this stage of the brewing. However, Flash would be sure to stand back, given just how much poison was in this potion. He he been keen on having this specific potion on him at all times, given his traumatic experiences the previous years where he had been immobilized and tortured. Yes, it happened twice, even though one was already too many times. Given how much stronger potions were than regular spells, he was hoping this would count as being prepared. He was sick and tired of everyone having the jump on him, though there was little hope left that he would ever feel safe.

Once the steam had disappated, there was not much left to do. He would need to slowly stir in the honey water, then leave it to boil for around an hour after a wave of his wand. As usual, he would be too afraid of nodding off to read a book, so instead had brought along his rat, Nicodemus, in order to play with him instead. He had been being enriched with the company of other rats, but the troublemaker had a penchant for getting out of his cage, so Flash tried to keep him nearby as much as he could before he learned the hard way how dangerous the world was. Flash would need to check the thickness and color to denote the exact time to take the brew off the heat and wave his wand one last time. From there, he was able to make only two bottles. Hopefully they would serve him well.

Status: Approved, Méabh

POTION BREWING FORM

Encyclopedia Link | Here
Potion | Wideye Potion
Ingredients required | Copper Cauldron, Aconite, Snake Fangs, Standard Ingredient, Billywig Stings, Horned Slugs

Roleplay (200 words min) | Magdalena all but rushed to the dungeon, the area that had been her home in the castle for the preceding six months. Her short tenure as Head of Hufflepuff had not yet rendered the cold and damp underbelly of the castle a realm of strangers, and away from the hustle and bustle of the students and her colleagues, she could focus. There was a girl near-unconscious above, and she needed to do her best to save her.

The storeroom was ripped open and raided, there was no time for decorum, not when time was so pressing. In due course she would make sure to replace each item and, if necessary, apologise to Professor Regan. Yet, for the moment, her relative seniority would serve as all the excuse she needed.

The six snake fangs were the first things added to the mortar, and soon thereafter they were joined by four measures of standard ingredient. Years of experience allowed her to rush through the first few steps, barely needing to check her measurements as to the ingredients. Before those soon-to-be-crushed reagents had a moment to settle in the mortar, she had added the six dried billyywig stings to the cauldron, and raised the heat to medium. Thirty seconds passed, and in that time, she deftly took to the mortar. The assortment of dry ingredients were crushed with an experienced hand, before those crushed ingredients too, were added to the copper cauldron as soon as the thirty second mark had passed. Thrice, she stirred clockwise, before turning her attention to the four horned slugs she'd borrowed from the storeroom. Drawing a knife, she halved the molluscs, before adding them too the cauldron. Only once the last of of them had plopped in, did she allowed herself a moment to rest.

Her heart was pounding, threatening to bounce out and into her throat. She'd not allowed herself a moment of respite since Prince had all but collapsed at her feet, and the eleven minutes she was forced to wait for the cauldron to broil and bubble would prove to be the only chance she'd get.

Silence overtook her and the room for that period, a worried sort of silence, only the sound of her own worried heart and the boiling pot making a noise.

In due course, she would wave her wand over the cauldron, and leave the dungeon, allowing it to bubble and boil. There was a girl still waiting in the infirmary after all.

Some eight hours later, the immediate chaos of the moment over, she would return to the room and thus, to her brewing cure. Two sprigs of aconite were added to the top of the liquid, before she stirred thrice once more, this time counterclockwise, to complete the potion.

A sigh of equal parts worry and relief would escape her lips, before she took to vialing the brew. All she had to bank on was hope.

Potion Brewed: Garroting Gas (2 Doses)
Ingredients Required: 11 fl. oz of Alcohol (Ethanol), 5 measures of Dragon Dung, 1 measure of Nettle (dried), 1 measure of Saltpeter, 3 Flowers Heads, 2 cauldrons (size 2 or larger)

200 Word Minimum Roleplay | 1,368 words

Reducio

Today was to be a brushing up on learned potions for the class that day, but admittedly Piérre was planning on jumping a bit ahead in the curriculum that had been set up for the September lessons in the class. Was the kid a prodigy in potions? No, absolutely not; Piérre sometimes struggled to remember which spell was the red sparks spell and which one was the gold sparks charm. However, he had taken to suddenly focusing on his work more than he had in the past, perhaps a sense of paranoia that stemmed from his realization that he was coming up on his OWLs and that his future success in the years following his passing of those exams. With the ball on the horizon (with himself being one of the people selected to help run the event; how he had been picked the kid had no clue whatsoever), Piérre had an agenda despite his "lawful expectations" that he was supposed to uphold for the sanctity of the school reputation.

Well, eeeeeh... Piérre was a little patchy when it came to the "School Expectations". It wasn't that he didn't care, it was more like that he had very bad situational awareness when it came to certain situations.

So while their potions professor began recapping the brewing processes for Fatiguing Infusion and Drowsiness Draught, Piérre was blissfully doing his own thing off to the side with a collection of ingredients that he had purchased on a weekend, only half-listening to what was being said around him. He lightly tapped his partner. "Hey, cover for me. Don't let her look over here while you guys are practicing, yeah?" Piérre nodded with wide green eyes. "Don't tip her off and there might be something in it for you. A favor?"

Without waiting for a response, Piérre followed along with the rest of the class, though he intended to practice brewing an entirely different recipe while the class was focusing on their Fatiguing Infusions. While other students were crushing poppyheads, Piérre was working on heating his size 2 cauldron to a very high heat, and with the use of a bare hand (why yes, the boy had no regards for how gross something was), he smeared the necessary measures of dragon dung around the entirety of the interior of the cauldron, completely ignoring the total look of disgust that he got from his partner as he did his best to ensure that it stuck to the side properly. Meeting the kid's eye evenly, Piérre glanced between the kid and his hand before teasingly reaching for his partner with an impish grin, which promptly elicited a sound that was somewhere in between a gag and a retch from his comrade.

Shrugging, Piérre went back to his work after flexing his fingers a few times and then casting a quick "Scourgify." to clean his hand off entirely. Surely muggles worked with materials that were a good deal more gross than dragon dung, and they would even go so far as using such things as facial products.

Well, now the kid had to wait for a little bit, not too long, but by the time that he withdrew the ethanol for the next part of the brewing process, the dung had caked to the sides, encouraging the boy to quickly bring down the heat of the cauldron so that while the dung was still burning and fragrant, it would not catch on fire. Couldn't have that be happening right now, could we? No fire right now, thank you!

Reciting a small meme to himself, Piérre then uncorked the bottle and added "Two shots of Vodka" to the brew, leaving him with a mostly empty bottle of what was basically ethanol kerosene. Sniffing it for a second, Piérre felt his head get light with the fumes, and he had to blink twice and cough once as he shook his head, clearing his senses as he put the strong stuff aside. By this point, the Fatiguing Infusions of the other students were also on a boil, though Piérre was letting his cauldron simmer as was needed for the recipe. When the students would start to check their brews was the time that Piérre would have to start being proactive with his own, but in the meantime he entertained himself with slicing up the flower heads so that they resembled confetti and then sliced up the confetti into even smaller slices. Tossing the knife a few inches to the side (of course he was being conscientious of hands and fingers, the kid wasn't that crazy), Piérre scooped everything up into his hands and then dumped it into the cauldron alongside the pre-dried nettles.

Taking up a stirring spoon, the kid then hummed quietly to himself as he stirred three times clockwise, twice counterclockwise, and finally once clockwise again. Everything slowly mixed in, and the boy was careful not to scrape off any of the dung into the main potion on accident. That would be annoying, trying to strain the dung out. The Fatiguing Infusions of all the others were slowly winding down, but Piérre only put his head in his hands as he waited for his potion to simmer a good while longer. They would start up on the next potion soon enough, and he would catch up to them eventually. For the time being, though he was more content to experiment with something that he wasn't as familiar with.

When time was up, and the first few students were just starting the brewing process of Drowsiness Draught, Piérre used the holes of the lid of the cauldron that it was joined with (literally, the cauldron with holes from the cauldron shop) and filtered the potion into the size 4 cauldron beneath it. Rattling the lid a few times to strain the last of the liquid into it, Piérre shrugged and put the lid aside with the residue. The byproduct of that brewing would have to cool for a while, and in the meantime, Piérre cleaned both the sieve lid and the size 2 cauldron with a thorough "Scourgify." and then set to work on his other potion in the freshly cleaned size 2 cauldron so that the kid was essentially double-tasking. Admittedly, the second potion would take longer to accomplish due to the need of the potion to brew for around an hour, but Piérre was certain that with his study hall coming up right afterwards, a kid hanging out in the back of the room finishing up a potion wouldn't be too out of an ordinary. Besides, potion prodigies hung out in the potion classroom all the time. What was an upperclassman among the rest of them going to do? That's right; nothing.

After sitting idly for a little bit longer (around the 13 minute mark or so), Piérre withdrew the last ingredient; Saltpeter.

Now, saltpeter alone was rather smelly, but combined with the fumes that were coming from the brew right now, they were next to nothing. Eyes watering, Piérre tried to take a deep, not so deep, breath, and then sprinkled the saltpeter on the mixture.

No sooner had he thrown the packaging aside did the boy scoop up his prepared vials in his right hand and his yew wand in his left, waving his wand over the entire cauldron, and then quickly yeeting his wand aside before quickly placing both phials into the liquid to collect as much of it as humanly possible to avoid being gassed out by his own brewing. Placing them upright, the kid then slammed stylized corks onto both of them to set them apart from other potions that the kid was likely to have on hand; This one had a false skull on them, and when they had been safely corked, the kid twisted a gold piece of wire around both of them both for his ease of grabbing the phial and for yet another cool stylization that reminded the kid of a hand holding the skull onto the bottle so that it would not fall off.

Now taking a deep breath of relief, Piérre pitied whoever would be on the receiving end of this Garroting Gas.

Status : Approved - Aurora

Potion Brewed: Fire Breathing Potion (2 Doses)
Ingredients Required: 2 Sprigs Peppermint, 1 Fire Seed, 1 Ginger, 1 jar of honey, 4 sprigs of lavender, 1 tablespoon of Flobberworm Mucus

200 Word Minimum Roleplay | 1,041 words

Reducio

While he had still been working on his brew of Garroting Gas, Piérre had started his brewing of the Fire Breathing Potion while he had been waiting for the Garroting Gas brew to cool. During that time, Piérre had slipped on his dragon hide gloves that were slowly becoming too small for him (he had purchased them 3 years ago, after all, and his hands had been growing to match his increasing height). Twirling two sprigs of peppermint, Piérre pretended that they had little squeaky voices proclaiming true love for one another. After making them "kiss" once, Piérre tossed them both into the cleaned size 2 cauldron, following it up with a specially packaged fire seed (the reason why Piérre had had to wear gloves to begin with).

Turning his attention back to the Garroting Gas, Piérre hastily set the cauldron to brew on low heat. It would be a long brew time before he would be able to continue his work. Fortunately, he had a study period just ahead of him. He would spend that time in the Potions classroom off to the side and out of the way so that he could finish his little project. He was no prodigy, but he had read a little bit ahead on the syllabus for this year just so that he could be prepared for whatever came his way. When the bell rang, he waved his traumatized partner goodbye, reminding the kid that Piérre could be asked for a request sometime within the next week and that he would oblige any task that involved studying or carefully observing a person's habit and schedules that was indicated to him.

With study hall upon him, Piérre set to work in taking a nap and setting an internal alarm to wake up in around 30 minutes or so. That would mean that when he woke up, he would have a few minutes to recover his bearings, chop up the ginger root, and then roll right into brewing the rest of the potion without a hitch of time being wasted.

After coming to in a pool of his own drool, Piérre lazily wiped his face and tried to smear away the worst of the saliva that had spread all over his workspace. Blinking his eyes sleepily, he rubbed his eyes with a yawn and noticed how dry his mouth was before taking a deep breath and blankly staring at the brewing cauldron in front of him with a blend of peppermint and fire seed in its bottom now mostly incorporated. The boy stared at it for a while longer, trying to remember why it was there before starting and snapping his fingers with memory of what had happened prior to his half hour siesta.

Taking the knife he had used to slice up flower petals earlier, the boy cast "Scourgify." on it swiftly and then promptly used it to cut up the ginger root into pieces and place it into the mortar for its crushing and its pasting. Though it started out chunky at first, the boy tried his best to twist the pestle as firmly as possible so that it would not only dice up, but crush and force the juices out of the root; thereby assisting the process of turning it into a smoother, more quality paste.

Leaning on an elbow and putting his head in his hand, Piérre lazily added the paste to his cauldron and then after slamming his hand around a few times to find a fresh stirrer, clasped it and then stirred the mixture counterclockwise five times. After tapping the stirrer on the side to ensure that as much of the potion stayed in the cauldron as possible to be used for the final product, Piérre yeeted it aside and focused his efforts on turning up the heat on the cauldron to a medium state.

Now switching his hands, Piérre unscrewed a withdrawn jar of honey and then let it slowly spread across the entire mixture in honeygold waves. During the subsequent stirring with the stirrer, Piérre idly stuck his index finger into the used jar of honey and let himself have a taste of the clover as he stirred the mixture clockwise 5 more times. At this point, he deserved it for all his hard work so far, right? The sugar of the clover honey seemed to agree with his tastebuds, anyways.

Kicking under the table with childish intent, the Britalian waved his wand over the the mixture with his sticky fingers, and set about on the next preemptive process while it was continuing to brew. Taking 4 springs of lavender, Piérre incanted yet another "Scourgify." at the mortar and pestle. Goodness gracious, how many things did the kid have to clean while brewing this single potion?!

Anyways, Piérre added the sprigs to the mortar and crushed them thoroughly, though not enough to produce a pulp. By the time he was finished crushing the lavender, the potion looked ready for them to be added (this was around the 20 minute mark), so the boy tipped the mortar into the cauldron, letting the crushed lavender be sprinkled into the honey mess within. Though the boy had no idea why the potion would have to be "Thickened" by the use of flobberworm mucus (he was under the impression that honey did a good enough job of thickening it up as was), the boy still obeyed the instructions, not daring to have a misfire occur to him this late in the potion-making processes. With the addition of the flobberworm mucus, Piérre finally consoled himself with the knowledge that his work was almost finished, and with a stirring of the potion thrice more counterclockwise, the boy triumphantly turned off the heat and waved his wand over the potion, prepping a pair of larger phials and tying a small tag around both of them with the words "Dragon's Breath" on each. After filling each one up, Piérre dared not try out his work here. He would have to wait for a good time to use these; likely when he would need it the most...

And based on his years at Hogwarts thus far... that moment may end up being sooner rather than later, unfortunately.

Status : Approved - Aurora

Encyclopedia Link | link here
Potion | Calming Draught
Ingredients required | Lavender, Chamomile, Crocodile Heart, Peppermint, Standard Ingredient, Poppy

Roleplay | word count: 472

Reducio

After he had gathered his energy back up, there was one last potion that Flash was interested in brewing for his own personal use. He had learned in his potions class last year that the Calming Draught could be used to lessen the effect of shock in a distressing situation. Needless to say, that seemed to be important to carry around. Not only did he often find himself in such situations, he also often found his arms shaking, unable to properly cast spells in self defense, even accidentally attacking his friends. At last, he had something that would be able to calm his nerves when he needed it most.

Starting with his mortar, he could need to crush the lavender and chamomille together until it was a fine powder. Next, he would place the crocodile heart on a cutting board and dice it into cubes. It was a bit ironic that in order to make a potion to calm oneself, he had to first brave the action of taking a knife to a heart, but he had been through enough at this point to steel himself against the squeamishness it might have caused. It took a while, and he would need to take a short break before starting in earnest. Dumping the flowers into the cauldron, he would next need to add the crocodile heart pieces, stir, and then heat on high for a minute.

Needing to both keep an eye on it and stay awake, Flash would read during the waiting periods. Normally he would fear it would not help him stay awake, but he was not struggling with his weariness quite as much at the moment. That, and he needed to keep up on his learning. The minute wouldn't be long enough to start, before he needed to lower the heat a bit. He added some powdered peppermint to the cauldron, then stirred again, this time five times counter-clockwise, before he gave it a wave of his wand. This time there was another waiting period, and a much longer one at that. He had planned for it though, and was able to use a desk nearby to work on finishing his homework for some of his classes.

After an hour had passed again, he would check in on the potion, watching it for another 10 minutes before considering it ready to lower the heat to low. From then on it was the final stretch. Standard ingredient, stir three times clockwise, add the roughly crushed poppy heads, then crank the heat back up to high for 40 seconds. Flash would watch his watch carefully this time, wanting to be precise, and as soon as the time was up, he'd remove it from the heat. After three more clockwise stirs, he would wave the wand one last time to finish it off.

Status: Approved - Aurora

Encyclopedia Link | Accio
Potion | Mandrake Restorative Drought
Ingredients required | Mandrake, Lavender, Fluxweed, Dragon Liver, Moondew, Essence of Wormwood, Murtlap Tentacles, Standard Ingredient
Roleplay (200 words min) | WC: 375

Reducio

Beyond a bookshelf, tucked away in the seclusion of a secret compartment, Pericles had begun brewing. This secret passage was scarcely visited. He would be free to work on his potion without interruption, and so he started, carefully measuring twelve fluid ounces of Moondew into his cauldron. With a muttered incantation, he lit the flame beneath it, waiting until the stuff started to simmer. Now for the unpleasant part: raw mandrake. Fitting on earmuffs, he yanked the sorry thing from the pot of soil it had been transported in, making quick work of chopping it to bits. Seven ounces were scooped into the mix, followed by three measures of Standard Ingredient. Pericles drew his wand from a sleeve, waving it over the top before turning over a large hourglass. His copper cauldron would have to simmer for an hour, so he settled in with a copy of Animal Ghosts of Britain.

Before the mandrake was fully stewed, Pericles was chopping fluxweed, adding three measures just as the last grain of sand trickled from the hourglass. Two sprigs of lavender followed, mixed into the batch by three counter-clockwise stirs and a single clockwise stir. He plugged his nose with one hand while the other cut twine from a bit of butcher parchment. Inside: a slimy cut of dragon's liver. Pericles held his breath long enough to chop an ounce into small pieces, scooping it into the batch and re-wrapping the remains. He cranked up the heat to high, checked his pocket watch, and picked up his book again. He must have dozed off at some point, which might have been disastrous, had his internal clock not done him the favor of waking him a couple hours later. He wiped sleep from his eyes before measuring a fluid ounce of Essence of Wormwood into the mix, fast to follow it with three Murtlap tentacles. After five clockwise stirs, he would spend the last twenty or so minutes restlessly pacing and stretching so as not to doze off again. A final wave of his wand above the cauldron and it was done. Pericles inspected the mix with a satisfied stare, then ladled it into crystal vials for safekeeping. No telling when something like this could come in handy....

Status: Approved, Farron

Encyclopedia Link | plop
Potion | Bruise Removal Paste
Ingredients required | Murtlap Tentacles, Honey, Bubotuber Pus, Seashells, Flobberworm Mucus
Roleplay | WC: 487

Reducio

Hogwarts was a much more painful place than June had imagined. In the literal sense, not emotionally. From falling off of Maggie's broom, being launched out of a tree, being slapped in the face twice (technically June wasn't the one who was assaulted, but it made her aware of the danger nonetheless), there was no question that June needed to do something to help herself. Sure, she had a firm handle on her fair share of offensive and defensive charms, but those only helped in the moment. What about after?

June found her answer over a medium-sized flame in the potions classroom. She felt a bit awkward as she allowed her cauldron to heat up for 10 minutes. This was, by far, the least exciting part of potion brewing. When the time had passed, June grabbed three murtlap tentacles and plopped them into the cauldron, quickly wiping off her hands after she let the last one go. Not that it made much difference, because as she poured in her jar of honey into the mix, it felt as if her fingers were contaminated all over again. She wiped them off again, only to feel a bit stupid for doing so after remembering what came next.

She lifted the cauldron off of the heat, being careful not to drop it. And now, the worst part. June measured out two fluid ounces of bubotuber pus, one of the grossest ingredients known to man, and poured it into the mixture. Gross gross gross gross.

After quickly wiping off her hands a third time (even though none got on her hands, it was the principle of ensuring they really were clean), June counted out three counter-clockwise stirs of the contents, then heaved the cauldron back on the fire before waving her wand over it. She turned the heat down so it sat at a low simmer.

The next 60 minutes were spent crushing sea shells into a fine powder, realizing that crushing sea shells into powder did not take an hour to do, and then staring at the ceiling while attempting to pass the time. When the hour had come to an end, June took 3 pinches of her powdered seashells and added them to the cauldron, followed by 2 measures of flobberworm mucus (why did potion brewing have to be so gross).

At last, the ingredient-adding process was over, and there was no longer a chance of some animal excretion touching her hands. She kept the mixture heated while stirring every so often, clockwise this time, keeping note of the consistency of the soon-to-be-potion. When it had finally gotten thick enough to be classified as a "paste", June waved her wand a final time. Once the potion had cooled down, she (carefully) poured it into air-tight jars to ensure it kept.

June looked upon her creation, proud of herself, yes, but mostly wanting to take a very, very long shower.

Encyclopedia Link | Clickity
Potion | Black Fire Potion
Ingredients required | Mint, Bursting Mushrooms, Salamander Blood, Wartcap

Roleplay (200 words min) |