Lesson One

[Mason Wishart]

Mason was unpleasantly surprised when one of the troublemakers decided that she'd just about had enough of Potions class. She glared after the Professor, unable to understand that she'd been at fault, too, then abandoned all of her work in favor of storming out of the classroom in a sufficiently dramatic, hormonal exit. Her bubbling cauldron and piles of supplies were left, steaming, where she left them.

With a sigh, Mason stepped over to her table, leaned under her cauldron, and blew out the small fire that was heating her potion. He knew that leaving an unfinished, unstable potion heating for unforeseeable amounts of time was a sure recipe for disaster, possibly explosions. He knew that she had been commanded to go to Professor Harris' office immediately, but he would have thought that she would display some sort of responsibility for the dangerously boiling cauldron she'd left.

Ah, well. That's what he was here for, he supposed. He took a pinch of ground silkworm husk from her supplies and scattered it over the surface of the potion to hold it in stasis until she could either come back to finish it or toss it out.

Brushing off his hands, he glanced back around the classroom. Things seemed to be moving along well, for the most part. He might have relaxed again if it hadn't been for the Hufflepuff girl, Gwendolyn, that dropped her knife to the table, letting it fall with a jarring thud, before speeding out the door. He stared after her, about to follow, when a Slytherin girl shoved a potion into his hands.

"Take this," she said, thrusting the vial into his hands. "So, I can leave."

"Ah," he said, momentarily taken aback, "Yes - yes, I suppose you can. Have a good day," he said. He glanced to make sure she had labeled her potion with her name, then set it in the box at the front of the classroom. Well, at least she seemed to have understood the assignment. That was something, at least.

Rubbing a hand in his hair, he stepped to the doorway. He didn't go out into the hallway because he was terrified that if he lost sight of his class, something might explode and somebody would die, and it would all be on his watch. Instead, he hovered right in the archway, where he could see Gwendolyn clutching her hand, looking for all the world like she was about to have a nervous breakdown. Oh God, he thought hurriedly, please don't let her. He was socially inept at the best of times, monstrously awkward at the worst, and he was well aware of the fact that he was possibly the worst-equipped person alive to deal with a teenage girl having a nervous breakdown.

"Ah... Gwendolyn - it is Gwendolyn, right? - are you okay there?"

[Patrice Livier]

After the whole fighting thing, Patrice knew she had to get the rest of her potion done. As always, potions wasn't her best subject, so the potion came out a violet color instead of a nice shade purple as the board said. But at least the color violet was close purple, besides it could've been worse. Patrice labeled her potion and put her name on it before getting up from her seat and putting the vial in the box up in front of the room.

Once the vial was in the box, Patrice couldn't help but look at the only one vial that was in there. The other vial was labeled with the name 'Daphne Reynolds'. She looked at Daphne's potion and started to get a little jealous because she felt that Daphne did a better job than herself. Patrice put down the vial and made her way back to her seat feeling like a complete failure.

Patrice slumped back down into her seat and hoped that no one would notice her off color potion as they went to put their own potion in the basket. Still feeling embarrassed about if someone would notice her potion, she gathered her belongings and decided to go to the only available place that would be open since she had a break after Potions class, the library.

[Gwendolyn Marie Bertrand]

As the red liquid began to stop flowing from her finger, Gwen stared at the small cut that was its replacement. "Open incision on index finger...caused by standardized knife used in Potions...damage minimal...blood still circulating and beginning to clot..."Gwen softly whispered to herself as she looked at her finger once again, she heard the laughter and mockery of when she was in third grade in her head again. Closing her eyes for a moment "There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, In that word's death. No words can that woe sound...Is there no pity sitting in the clouds? That sees into the bottom of my grief? O sweet my mother, cast me not away!" Gwen whispered Shakespearean words to sooth herself from the memories...but it wasn't stopping...the words that plagued her were still in her mind...until another's voice break her reverie.

"Ah... Gwendolyn - it is Gwendolyn, right? - are you okay there?" Opening her eyes slowly, she turned towards the voice. Is was the older boy's voice that broke through the nightmares that plagued her mind. Although she heard him speaking, she didn't catch what he had said. Before asking him, Gwen shook it off and looked at his piercing blue-green eyes. Trying to use his eyes for a clue in what he asked her, she gave him a small smile and pushed back a stray hair behind her ear and said "I'm...fine. My sincere apology for disrupting the classroom..." As she slowly made her way past him, she turned back and said in a soft voice "Thank you."

Walking back in the classroom, Gwendolyn put back her cold ice queen mask. She was not to delay any longer, because it would affect the grade of the potion. Seeing her messy cutting board and ingredients all over the place, Gwen cleaned off the blood and put her full attention on cutting. No mistakes...or else. Let's see, if I finish this early I shall reward myself with dance, if not I shall ask Mr. Wishart to deduct points. Yes. Okay. Focus. After collecting the ingredients and making sure everything was in place, Gwen set a fire below her cauldron.

[Emilie Goguen]

Class had been in other words, eventful. First was the Ravenclaw girl leaving class in tears, students coming to class late and getting punished and finally the family versus the slytherin. “Wow” Emilie thought “This is going to be pleasant year”

After she finished, Emilie looked at the potion and the recipe that was given to the class. She had followed it and the end product seemed to be right. The purple color looked a little off from the description. Frowning, she began to thinking it was better to get a second opinion.

Raising her hand, and facing turning a ting of pink; Emilie whispered “Wishart...I wanted to know if this looked right?” Emilie had hoped he had heard her. She wasn’t one to have a loud voice, and indeed the class had seemed too drawn out the louder side of the students. Emilie had begun to pack her bag while waiting for the boy to come, hopefully he had heard her. She wouldn’t mind if another student had even heard her and gave their opinion.

[Mason Wishart]

Gwendolyn looked up at him for a moment, staring into his eyes for a second without saying anything. Mason chewed his lip awkwardly for a moment, praying to high heaven that she would snap out of it. Having an entire class to look out for was enough pressure for one day - exciting pressure, but pressure nonetheless; he didn't really feel like having to play psychotherapist on top of it all.

But apparently someone up there was watching out for him in a shocking change, as he was never, ever this lucky, and she shook her head, tucked a slip of hair behind her ear, and smiled. He smiled back, trying to hide his relief.

"I'm...fine. My sincere apology for disrupting the classroom..." As she slowly made her way past him, she turned back and said in a soft voice "Thank you."

"No problem," he said, "don't worry about it," as she disappeared back into the classroom. Whoosh. He sighed out. One more crisis averted. They'd had snarky students, a fight in front of the teacher's face, a girl nearly have a breakdown over a cut finger - what did he have to deal with next, someone's cauldron blowing up?

He immediately stopped dead. Oh, God. He wasn't allowed to think these sorts of things! If he started thinking these things, then they would happen, because that was just the sort of luck he had, and he wasn't prepared to deal with some plonker's cauldron blowing up in the middle of class today. Grimacing and scrubbing a hand through his hair, he stepped back into the classroom, sending up one more silent prayer to the unknown. Please, he thought desperately, if there's anyone up there, no explosions. Just - just no explosions.

Mason's return to the bustle of the classroom was just in time to see another student head out after finishing her potion, a Gryffindor girl that looked about his age. He nodded to her as she left, then returned his attention to the rest of the classroom. And if his eyes tracked a little closer towards the fires bubbling under the cauldrons, well... paranoia was only paranoia if it didn't happen.

Unsure of what to do now that the students were working productively, he headed up and down the rows slowly to keep an eye on things. It seemed like something a professor would do. He almost missed a near-silent whisper from a student a desk or two away under the mulled ruckus of knives chopping and pots bubbling.

“Wishart...I wanted to know if this looked right?”

He paused and turned to see where the question had come from, only to see a younger girl looking at him with a somewhat nervous expression, tucking her books into her bag as she did. He nodded and headed over obediently, peering down into her cauldron.

"Hey, that looks pretty good. You can tell that it's stable because of that shiny film it's got floating on the surface. That means you've boiled off all of the skin of the tubeworms like you were supposed to." He took the spoon trailing in the liquid and swirled it experimentally, eyeing the color. "If you're at all concerned about the color, you can chill it a little with a charm for a minute or two before you bottle it, and it'll go just a touch more violet, but you look pretty set to me." He cast her a reassuring smile.

[Emilie Goguen]

"Hey, that looks pretty good. You can tell that it's stable because of that shiny film it's got floating on the surface. That means you've boiled off all of the skin of the tubeworms like you were supposed to." He took the spoon trailing in the liquid and swirled it experimentally, eyeing the color. "If you're at all concerned about the color, you can chill it a little with a charm for a minute or two before you bottle it, and it'll go just a touch more violet, but you look pretty set to me." He cast her a reassuring smile.

Emilie looked up to the older boy with a surprised look. She didn’t expect him to hear her low voice, especially with the loud noises that had filled the class. Emilie had listened and watched him as he examined her potion. After Mason had told her to use a charm, Emilie instinctively had grasped her wand.

Emilie gave Mason a smile and said “Thank you. I just...wanted a second opinion, before I would hand it in.”

She turned her attention to the potion and turned off the burner. Thinking of a charm to use on her potion, Emilie tried to remember the different charms she had learned. When the charm came to her, she lifted her wand and faintly said the charm’s name. It had seemed to work properly and she waited for the potion to be done. Emilie watched the color turn slightly more and seemed to be the right color.

Once she finished filling the vial, she quickly labelled it and put the vial in the box; as the other students had. Walking back to her seat, Emilie picked up her things and headed out of the classroom.”Thanks again Mason.” She said with a bit of red to her cheeks, and turned to leave. As she came into the corridor, Emilie decided on going outside for a little bit before her next class for some fresh air.

[Gwendolyn Marie Bertrand]

As Gwen slowly stirred her cauldron, she recalled moments ago the Head Boy's response. "No problem," he said, "don't worry about it," Glancing at him for a moment, Gwen snapped out of her reverie and focused back on her potion. Stir Counter-Clockwise for 30 Minutes, Adding a Clockwise Stir Every 2 Minutes. That's all I have to focus on. Also not to boil over 33 minutes. Stir counter-clockwise...Putting all her attention on the potion that she was creating, she began to see the colour change. Perhaps I should get a second opinion, similar to the Gryffindor girl. No. A witch who cannot get a potion right the first time, doesn't deserve to be a Healer. Or at this school at all. Failure is not an option. Meaningless thoughts like this aren't good either.Shaking her head to get focused again, her potion turned the correct purple hue. Turning off the fire that was beneath her cauldron, Gwen began to put it in a vial.

Labeling her vial, she put it in her test tube rack that she had placed on her desk. Grabbing her leftover ingredients, Gwen walked towards the supply cabinet to put them back. "No problem," he said, "don't worry about it," As Mason's words echoed through her head, Gwen held onto the door frame for support. What are you doing Gwen? His words mean nothing. He is just a person, a stranger at that. To develop emotions over such words...is a sin. Your emotions are to be locked up if you want to be the best at everything.Letting out a heavy sigh, Gwen went back to her table and continued cleaning her desk.

Unfortunately, I must stay here for the time being seeing as I need to talk with Professor Harris still. I also need to talk to the Head Boy. After all...he was one of the ones that saw my emotional breakdown...After her desk was in order, she grabbed her vial and approached the Head Boy. "Mr. Wishart, here is the potion for today's assignment. I also have some questions for Professor Harris, so I'll be staying here until he comes back. I hope this isn't a problem and if it is I can leave immediately. I'd also like a private word with you as well, if you don't mind. So, I'll wait and study in the meantime." Gwen said with a serious look on her face, before heading back to her seat and grabbing her Arithmancy book. God. I think I'm being to have human emotions...a flaw that Ephraim had. Sure, he's happy...but what is really the point of emotions? Life is about making money, expanding your knowledge, and perhaps creating new things. Things like happiness, love, and joy are all...well...meaningless. Or that's at least what Grandfather says...

Looking up at her arithmancy book, she glanced around the room, everyone around her knew the meaning of what 'social interactions' meant. Perhaps grandfather was wrong...being emotionless perhaps doesn't give you everything. Maybe...I should attempt to break out of my shell and shed emotions? But where to begin? A greeting? Umm...maybe I should read a book about this type of thing. Yes. Surely there are books on how to participate in social interactions...though Ephraim picked it up naturally... Maybe I should just study others first...yes. That is sure to work.