Mislabeled
Thoughts | Speak
The Potions class was so cramped with the nervous energy of first years that Cassian could practically smell the faintly damp stone from the dungeon walls. He settled closer to the pack of students, since they were only in the classroom because some upperclass students were offering mentorship. This meant there would be a handful of older student volunteers circulating, checking cauldrons, and offering guidance. While others would have seen this as reassuring, Cassian suspected it would be anything but. However, Cassian personally felt that it was a relief, given that he didn't like the professor's attitude in or out of class. Guess they should consider themselves fortunate it is even allowed.
Cassian looked over and saw Wes at the next station over, hovering over his own cauldron. His face nearly scrunched at the thought of working close to someone so…muggle-like. While it may not have been the perfect perspective of his fellow first-year and housemate, Cassian didn’t feel like Mugge-borns like Wes should be allowed to be educated with the rest of those more magically inclined. Cassian’s naivety sadly darkened his viewpoint of Muggle-borns; however, he wasn’t taught to be crass, so he has a careful balance of tolerance.
Look at him…just tinkering away like some clueless house elf.
Stirring clockwise until the mixture darkened to the proper hue, he stood over his cauldron contemplating the next steps. The Cure for Boils potion wasn’t complicated; however, it did call for precision, as the slightest mistake could yield a brew with its own temperament. Mistaking ingredients was a common mishap for students dealing with potion-making, and this potion had two ingredients, dried nettles and crushed snake fangs, that could be easily confused due to them both being pale and brittle. Today, they were both stocked in identical jars and cork stops. The older students must have been in a rather fancy mood, given that they had taken the time to put ingredient vials and the necessary items for the potion at each station.
Cassian had a sudden wicked epiphany, as if a brilliant dose of lightning struck him. His facial features changed as he let out a sinister grin, curling up at the edge of his lips. He looked over at Wes as he was busy with what he could only assume was the other Gryffindor’s fifth time reviewing this potion’s text. This would be his perfect opportunity to get a chuckle at someone else’s expense. He looked over as the ingredient vials were positioned at Wes’s station just enough for him to “conveniently” swap the labels of the dried nettles and crushed snake fangs. He reached over the wooden border of their workstations and quietly maneuvered the vials near each other before looking up to see if anyone was paying any mind. Once feeling the rest of the ruckus of the classroom was masking his intent, Cassian quickly swapped, ensuring not to clink the bottles while untying the roped labels of each ingredient.
Let’s see if he studied that bloody book long enough to know the difference.
He leaned back over to his station and continued his potion-brewing process, letting out a soft chuckle to himself, just soft enough to ripple through his mind. While he did want to poke fun at Wes, he didn’t want to bring any significant attention to himself that could jeopardize his own attendance at Hogwarts as well as his family’s reputation. Let’s hope none of the older students spotted his little silent retaliation. It was one thing that Cassian wanted to find subtle ways to push back against the system for damming him to Gryffindor; being able to mess with a Muggle-born was the icing on the cake, bringing him some sense of satisfaction.
@Wes Morrow
Last edited by Cassian Morvale on 28 Dec 2025, 20:18, edited 3 times in total.
Mislabeled
Wes had been having some difficulty with potions so hearing that there was a tutoring session of sorts, he gave up free time to sign up. When he was in the huddle of working his eyes were narrowed in concentration as he looked his text over again. Clockwise until the mixture darkens. Wait for the simmer. Add dried nettles, he thought to himself. After stirring, Wes saw the cauldron bubbling obediently and he smiled.
The boy reached for the jar of dried nettles, and for a moment he thought the ingredients felt odd in his hand. Wes even turned to look Cassian, giving him an odd look as if there was something the Muggle-born felt off about the situation. He shrugged it off though and put the pinch of nettle into the cauldron.
Except when the nettles hit, the potion to be knew them to actually be snake fangs. There was an abrupt an aggressive hiss that caused Wes’ eyes to widen. He flinched and with a deep breath said, “it’s not supposed to be doing that…”
The smell was atrocious and Wes’ fumbled trying to figure what to do next. His embarrassment overcame him and his ears shrunk on his head. However, he kept going and put in the next ingredient which was the actual nettle. This only caused the potion to gurgle more and a green froth overran the top of the cauldron. The putrid smell and a smoke from it caused students to cover their faces and loudly complain at Wes for his mistake.
An older student, who had been tasked to assist in the class, walked over and noticed the error. Claiming it was a classic first year error for someone who was too ignorant to read the book well.
“But… the ingredients, the labels…” Wes said, his ears back to their normal size, but his dirty blonde hair had turned a deep black and his creeks were flushed red from the embarrassment as the older student told him to reset his station and try again. Everyone had saw it too. Wes’ eyes turned to Cassian, he felt something off, as if the boy had something to do with it.
@Cassian Morvale
The boy reached for the jar of dried nettles, and for a moment he thought the ingredients felt odd in his hand. Wes even turned to look Cassian, giving him an odd look as if there was something the Muggle-born felt off about the situation. He shrugged it off though and put the pinch of nettle into the cauldron.
Except when the nettles hit, the potion to be knew them to actually be snake fangs. There was an abrupt an aggressive hiss that caused Wes’ eyes to widen. He flinched and with a deep breath said, “it’s not supposed to be doing that…”
The smell was atrocious and Wes’ fumbled trying to figure what to do next. His embarrassment overcame him and his ears shrunk on his head. However, he kept going and put in the next ingredient which was the actual nettle. This only caused the potion to gurgle more and a green froth overran the top of the cauldron. The putrid smell and a smoke from it caused students to cover their faces and loudly complain at Wes for his mistake.
An older student, who had been tasked to assist in the class, walked over and noticed the error. Claiming it was a classic first year error for someone who was too ignorant to read the book well.
“But… the ingredients, the labels…” Wes said, his ears back to their normal size, but his dirty blonde hair had turned a deep black and his creeks were flushed red from the embarrassment as the older student told him to reset his station and try again. Everyone had saw it too. Wes’ eyes turned to Cassian, he felt something off, as if the boy had something to do with it.
@Cassian Morvale
Mislabeled
Cassian didn’t immediately look up when the sharp hiss cracked through the air; the corner of his mouth twitched in excitement. That sound could only mean one thing: Wes just learned a vital lesson in ingredient differentiation. He kept his eyes fixed on his own cauldron as he waved his wand, completing the first part of the potion, allowing it to brew its allotted time before continuing. The smell suddenly filled the air, following the foul green plume, causing the surrounding students to groan in complaint. As he wrinkled his nose, Cassian couldn’t help but take solace in the exceeding expectations from Wes’s brewing concoction. When Wes muttered, “It’s not supposed to be doing that…,” Cassian allowed himself a single, ghost-thin smirk.Thoughts | Speak
Correct.
The entertainment stepped up a level when the older student arrived, disapproving and requesting that Wes reset his station and start again. This warmed Cassian’s heart like the execution of a well-practiced spell. He didn’t dare to look at Wes directly yet, focusing on his textbook, reviewing the steps for the second part of the potion brewing instructions. When Wes spluttered his defense and muttered on about ingredients and labels, Cassian’s attention slipped from the text in front of him. Not because he felt guilty or feared being caught. But because he could literally feel Wes’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his face. A flicker of amusement rode in him.
Did the Muggle-born actually suspect me?
Cassian felt this was a bold emotion for someone who couldn’t even keep their potion from exploding into what could only be identified as rotten pond sludge. He finally lifted his gaze in a slow and measured fashion to meet Wes’s stare with a calm, unreadable expression. His look mirrored his thoughts.
If you’re looking for someone to blame, look in the mirror.
He gave a slight tilt of his head in a polite acknowledgement, along with a nudge in his head that further echoed his sentiments.
What are you going to do about it?
He returned his attention to his textbook. “Some people,” he murmured under his breath, filtered out by the clanking of caldrons and small chatter, “really shouldn’t skip the diagrams.” The green froth from Wes’s station still bubbled pitifully. Cassian didn’t laugh this time, but his satisfaction found its place deep down inside. He wiped the side of his cauldron clean and prepared his ingredients for the second half of the potion-making process. He started to ignore the fact that he just set off a domino effect with Wes’s potion.
Let him think whatever he must.
Suspicion wasn’t proof of anything, and Cassian Morvale knew precisely how to stay one step ahead of those around him. At least this was his mindset.
@Wes Morrow