In the Cauldron's Crucible PV Rebecca Loops Closed

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ P O T I O N S Sept 5, 2023 . . @Alexander Harland OUTFIT Reducio _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

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Rebecca walked into class with the rest of the shuffling mass of second years into the dimly lit classroom, bookbag slung casually over his school robes. Even after only one day of class, he was once again falling into the natural rhythm of schoolwork that he'd coasted on over the previous school year. Potions class was far from his least favorite subject; there was something inherently soothing about systematic method, measured instructions, and the slow bubble of a boiling cauldron. However, it was undeniably true the art of potionmaking was a slow process that required a patience that Rebecca simply did not possess.

By the time he'd arrived his usual spot had been taken by another student. He gave his friends a mournful look from across the classroom but acquiesced to take his seat nearer to the front of the classroom than he would have otherwise preferred. This brought him next to a Hufflepuff boy that Rebecca thus far had never had any cause to speak with. He flashed the boy a friendly smile, but his attention was otherwise drawn to the professor as the class began.

As Professor Regan spoke he scratched down his notes on a spare bit of parchment with a ratty old crowfeather quill-- clearly well used in the past. He briefly mulled over the possibility of brewing some Sleeping Draught for his own personal use. His sleep schedule could certainly use the help, but he was reluctant to grow too reliant on something so expensive. Forget ever saving up enough money for a car, he'd be penniless after only a couple months if he had to purchase all those ingredients on any sort of consistent basis. With that thought in mind, he stifled a frustrated sigh.

The professor paired him off with the unfamiliar Hufflepuff for their class assignment-- who was apparently named Alexander Harland.

"Hi," he replied, matching the other boy's small nod with his own easy grin as he gave the Hufflepuff a quick once-over. Blonde, sort of pretty, but he looked a bit apprehensive. "I don't think we've ever met, my name's Rebecca. And I'm assuming you're Alexander?" He held out a hand for the other boy to shake. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

He gestured towards the board with the awaiting ingredients list and instructions without much fanfare. "I can grab the ingredients, do you want to get the cauldron ready?"

If nothing else, Alexander admired the green colour that adorned the robes of the Slytherin students. Despite his eccentricities, such as placing a giant basilisk in a gloomy room of a castle full of underage students, old Salazar had a certain taste in fashion. "Better than nothing," Alexander thought, tongue in cheek. After all, one always must balance his malevolent tendencies with some rosy interests such as fashion, interior design, or gardening. If, for example, Alexander's mother, the venerable bureaucrat Christina, had not balanced her burning desire to neglect her son with a dry sense of humour, the golden-haired boy would not have been able to somehow enjoy her company.

But, quite obviously, this was not the time to think about such things. If they had been in the Astronomy Tower, where they could enjoy the immense sky, and not in this slightly gloomy dungeon-floor classroom dedicated to the study of the noble art of potion-brewing, Alexander might have liked to distract himself with idle thoughts. But when the class was not about this or that star, but about the magical results that could mysteriously be achieved by throwing an animal spleen into the cauldron, the young badger immediately acquired all the qualities one would only expect of a promising student.

Quite surprised and relieved by Rebecca's approach, a genuine smile gently widened on Alexander's face. Kindness had long been regarded as by ethicists as a fundamental requirement for a person to be virtuous, rather than a virtue in itself - a statement with which Alexander would have found it considerably difficult to agree. The gentle tone of kindness, for him, was much rarer, thus dearer, than the majestical acts of bravery, the perplexing exhibitions of ambition, and the cold face of unrestricted knowledge. His study partner apparently was blessed with that tone, and he provided Alex with a marvellous opportunity to break down the influence of the biased views of his grandmother.

Alex's mind was, to tell the truth, a little preoccupied these days. There was someone in particular that his mesmerised mind could not avoid finding itself thinking about. The spell that often causes one's eyes to wander far away and is more powerful than anything taught at Hogwarts... That was one of the main reasons why he needed Potions class today more than ever. Seeing the mucus of one creature side by side with the horns of another had the power to weaken his pretty hopeless inclination to indulge in such romantic daydreaming. It was a luxury for Alexander to have the chance to share this moment with a classmate who had proven himself to be polite.

"Ah, yes," he answered Rebecca, "I'm afraid I haven't had the opportunity to meet you before." With a face that wanted to reflect that he was now free from initial apprehensions, "Alexander Harland, and the pleasure is all mine," he continued as he shook the boy's hand. That was one of his favourite things about Hogwarts - meeting people. As simple an act as it was, it was a blessing Alexander had rarely had in his life before coming to this castle.

"You're talking to a fan of cauldrons," he replied to Rebecca's suggestion cheerfully, "well, maybe the only fan of them." He secretly hoped Rebecca had at least some sympathy, if not admiration, for the ingredients. Because if that was the case, this division of labour would have pleased Alexander even more. Then "As you wish," he concluded as he stretched his arms out on the table to sterilise the cauldron and get it ready for potion making.

As he worked on the cauldron, he felt a sense of curiosity stirring inside him. It was an urge that he had long been familiar with but had only recently been able to put into practice - the urge to know someone better. "Tell me," Alexander inquired as Rebecca returned to the cauldron with the necessary ingredients, "are you interested in potions, or are you more of a wand-waving type?"

@Rebecca Loops