Lesson One

[Sebastian Harris]

Sebastian walked through the corridors towards his first lesson of the new term. He earned curious stares from the passersby, but he did not meet their eyes. As his time at Hogwarts as the Potions Master grew, most students knew what he expected of his students. If they were N.E.W.T. students who hadn't taken potions since his arrival last year, they at least knew him by reputation. It made no difference to him if they stared at him or whispered behind his back. Sebastian was sometimes called a man of cold steel, and had worked hard (although without really trying) to get this reputation.

He reached the classroom and entered, nodding at the students, whose total filled every seat in the room. "Good afternoon," he said, setting his briefcase on the desk. "I trust you all had an enjoyable holiday? Well, it's time to study again, so let's dive right in."

Sebastian took his wand out and waved it in front of the blackboard. In seconds, a symbol that was familiar to most young wizards and witches drew itself on the board. "Everyone has to go now and then," said Sebastian, turning around and facing the students. "Which one of you can tell me what profession this symbol represents?" The image was a wand and bone, both of which crossed each other.

[Miranda Dawson]

Before Miranda was sitting in her seat, in potions class, she was in the bathroom crying over how her letter from the Williams' said that she couldn't come back home, ever again. The Williams' reason was because Miranda left for Hogwarts with no goodbye and that their breakfast was cold. Miranda knew that all the Williams' wanted was a maid and if you don't do a good job, then you're kicked out of the house. Miranda's eyes were about to spill with tears again, before she was distracted by her potions teacher, Professor Harris, walking in.

Miranda wasn't paying attention to what Professor Harris said. All she heard was something about an enjoyable holiday and it's time to study again. Miranda was in the back row of the class, because she couldn't stand the embarassment if Professor Harris called on her and she was distracted by something else. She, also, didn't want to be caught crying, either.

Miranda, who still wasn't paying attention caught something about a profession of a symbol. Symbol? Miranda looked up interested on what was going on. What she saw interested her even more. Miranda saw a bone and a wand that were crossed one another.

Miranda didn't know what it was, but she felt that this symbol was giving her an clue about her past. Her past. Miranda had to close her eyes and think of something else other than her past. When Miranda closed her eyes, she saw a man with a cloak on and another man with a blonde hair and only a wand on him, no other possessions. This blonde haired man felt like an important part of Miranda, she just didn't know how. The blonde haired man said to stay away from his wife and unborn child. The cloaked man didn't even hear a word the blonde haired guy said, but said some unknown spell that Miranda didn't know, and a flash of green hit the blonde haired guy. The blonde guy toppled over and didn't move at all. This scared Miranda and she screamed bloody murder.

Miranda looked up from her arms with tears streaming down her face and wondered if she was screaming in her sleep. Miranda, who looked around the room, was relieved that everyone's attention was on Professor Harris. But, even though she felt relieved, she was still wondering if anybody noticed she was asleep. Again, Miranda felt embarrassed to be caught crying, so she ran out of the potions classroom and decided that she would hide in the bathrooms until class ended.

[Charlie Cooper]

Charlie walked through the door of the classroom with his head in a book. It wasn't at all abnormal to see Charlie making his way slowly around the castle with his nose firmly planted in the pages of his newest selection from the library. When he read, he wore is thick-framed black glasses which he thought made him look literary. He often bumped into people or tripped over his own feet, but the dirty looks and ridicule were lost on him when he was absorbed in a good book. Most of the time, Charlie lived in his own world. Following the twists and turns in the life of a fictional character was much easier than dealing with his own problems, which were far worse than any 12 year old should have.

Charlie didn't know what to think about Potions. He was very good at following instructions, which one would think would give him an upper hand. He understood why certain ingredients mixed together made something else. But making Potions had never felt natural to him. Not like History of Magic or Ancient Runes, which were much more theoretical subjects. He was very good at those. He loved how much reading was assigned. He hoped this Potions professor made them read a lot.

Charlie chose a seat near the back, hoping the Professor wouldn't notice him. After the incident the previous year, he found that teachers had been treating him differently. Everyone knew about Charlie - how he'd witnessed the murder of his parents by the Seven and somehow escaped with his life. Everyone whispered theories about how he could have managed it. Charlie had an eerie wisdom only possessed by those who had experienced something horrible. People dealt with him gently, as if he was liable to become a murderer at any moment. All he wanted was to be left in peace, but he wasn't that lucky.

"Good afternoon," he said, setting his briefcase on the desk. "I trust you all had an enjoyable holiday? Well, it's time to study again, so let's dive right in."

Enjoyable holiday. Sure. Charlie hadn't had an enjoyable holiday since the Christmas his parents were killed. Every single holiday reminded him of the things he'd seen. He hated them all. Birthdays, summer breaks, Christmas, Easter. There was nothing fun about holidays when he went to his Uncle and Aunt's house or recieved cards from them. It just reminded him that his parents were no longer around to spend time with him or send him gifts. He swore that when he was an adult, he would go to work on holidays and pretend they weren't happening.

"Everyone has to go now and then," said Sebastian, turning around and facing the students. "Which one of you can tell me what profession this symbol represents?"

Charlie knew the answer. It was clear in his calculating expression. But he kept his mouth shut. He barely spoke anymore, let alone to teachers. The last thing he needed was the professor becoming aware of the poor-little-victim-basketcase in his class. He pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and continued reading his book.

[Sebastian Harris]

Sebastian looked around his class as the students sat there in silence. No one knew what the symbol was? He didn't believe that; lives began and ended at St. Mungo's all the time. Most wizarding children were not so daft that they couldn't recognize the symbol that represented Healers.

Sebastian started to sigh, and as he did so, a young girl got out of her seat and left the classroom, tears running down her face. He watched her leave his classroom without a word to him, his mouth hanging open slightly at the surprising lack of respect she showed the class. The door closed, and Sebastian decided he would be in contact with her if she didn't come back soon. She could count on that.

He cleared his throat and regained his teaching demeanor. Taking his attention off the door and turning it back to his class, he spoke. "Honestly, it's not worth tearing up over. It's an easy question, really. Just think for a moment."

It was then that Sebastian noticed Mr. Cooper, a second-year, who had his nose buried in what appeared to be a book. A book other than his potions book, mind you. It wasn't a surprise to see the boy reading, Sebastian thought, but it was irritating that he was reading during the class lecture. Almost as irritating as Miranda Dawson getting up and walking out. As such, Sebastian approached his seat.

"Perhaps Mr. Cooper can enlighten us, class," said Sebastian coldly, hovering over the boy. "That is, if he decides his education is important enough to put down the interesting read. What say you, Charlie?"

[Charlie Cooper]

Charlie barely even flinched when a girl a little younger than himself fled the room crying. He was much too absorbed in the climax of his book. It was a harrowing tale of a young boy taming a dragon to fight along side him in a terrible war. It captivated Charlie. He like the idea of being so young, yet so powerful. He dreamed of taming dragons and leading armies. It was all fantasy, of course. Charlie knew he would never be that kind of hero. But he hoped to be something better than a shy little bookworm forever. Books like the one he was reading gave him hope for that. He didn't always have to be the victim. He could control his own life sometimes.

He did sneak a peek at the door as the girl fled, raising an eyebrow in confusion before returning to his book. Girls were weird. They were always yelling or crying or giggling loudly. It was always something extreme with them. He shook is head in disbelief. He doubted he would ever understand their crazy ways. He was sure she was nice though, and he felt bad she was upset. He considered finding her later and offering her a book to borrow. That always made him feel better when he wanted to cry. And though he never told anyone, Charlie wanted to cry a lot. Especially when he remembered he'd never get to hear his mother call him by his beloved nickname, Scout, ever again. That's when he was the most sad. Besides holidays.

"Perhaps Mr. Cooper can enlighten us, class," said Sebastian coldly, hovering over the boy. "That is, if he decides his education is important enough to put down the interesting read. What say you, Charlie?"

The voice of the professor rang in Charlie's ears. His cheeks flushed a bright red, but he kept his head down until he was sure the colour had drained from his face. He hated being called out like that. He didn't want everyone to look at him. He raised his head slowly and peered at the teacher, his captivating blue eyes wide.

"Healers," he told Professor Harris without faltering. He stared directly into the eyes of the teacher for a moment, then turned back to his book. "Like at St. Mungo's." That little piece of information had slipped out unintentionally. If anyone asked why he had been to St. Mungo's, he would lie. But that wasn't unusual. Charlie lied a lot. It was the only way he knew to make sure the people who killed his parents never found out about him. He didn't want to be next.

[Sebastian Harris]

The boy answered. Sebastian loomed over him for a few more moments. By his appearance, he looked as though he was about to scold the boy for not paying attention. And Sebastian had done this in his classes before, so it wasn't something to be completely unexpected. His students needed to be aware that he expected their best from them.

Sebastian didn't shout angrily at him, though. Instead he gently took the book from Charlie, folded the corner of the page down so he wouldn't lose his place, and sat it on the desk. The book now sat in front of the young Ravenclaw, closed and ready to be opened when class was over.

Giving a daunting look to Charlie for one last moment, Sebastian turned away and walked back to the front of the classroom. "Precisely, Mr. Cooper. Take a well-earned five points for Ravenclaw."

He turned back to face everyone. "Healing is one of the most difficult branches of magic there is," he told the class. "Consider a levitation charm. You wave your wand, saying the incantation, but nothing goes into the air. Annoying, isn't it? Well, it isn't annoying if you get Healing wrong. It's absolutely disastrous. If you get it wrong, you'll be lucky if you don't kill the poor tosser. If not that, you'll be lucky not to leave permanent damage upon them. That's why Healing is such a difficult career choice to follow once you've left Hogwarts. They only take the best; anyone who doesn't know what the hell they're doing can just pack their things and leave, because there's no going back after permanently affecting your patient for the worse." Sebastian reached into his robe pocket and took out a vial filled with a thick, purple potion. "Wound cleaning potions won't do much for curses," he said, "but for cuts, open wounds and the like, they're a good thing to use in order to clean out wounds, thus keeping infection from setting in. And you're in the wizarding world, so throughout your career of magic, you're likely to come across things that gives you an infection that's worse than some swelling, tenderness and pus. That's what you'll be making today." Sebastian took his wand and wrote the instructions on the blackboard, as usual:

1 Ounce Murtlap Essence
2 Vials of Flobberworm Mucus
1/2 Vial of Pomegranate Juice
1 Ounce of Chopped Tubeworms
Light a Fire and Wait Until the Potion Comes to a Boil
Stir Counter-Clockwise for 30 Minutes, Adding a Clockwise Stir Every 2 Minutes. Potion Should Turn a Nice Shade of Purple Near the End

DO NOT ALLOW TO BOIL BEYOND 33 MINUTES. POTION WILL BE RENDERED USELESS AND WILL EMIT THE MOST FOUL ODOR YOU HAVE EVER SMELLED.

"The instructions are on the blackboard," said Sebastian. "You have an hour. Start!"

[Faith Appleby]

Being late to Potions was a fate no student in her right mind wished for. Professor Harris was one of the most daunting and terrifying of all the Hogwarts staff; and screwing up in front of him was enough to bring almost any student to tears. However, it was that fate precisely that befell Faith on her first day of the new term.

It wasn't that she chose to be late; after all, Faith was usually quite punctual and being late was something quite out-of-character for the 3rd year. But something had happened at breakfast that had completely altered Faith's state of mind.

She still clutched tightly in her hand a very small, crumpled piece of parchment that once must have once been part of a letter. Only one word could be made out on the torn, dirty, and faded parchment: "live". There was also a non-decipherable scribble that looked to be part of a signature. A tired-looking barn owl had dropped it in front of Faith at breakfast during morning mail delivery. There was no way for Faith to really know who it had come from, what it meant, or whether it was really even for her, but that didn't stop her heart from jumping completely out of her body at the hope that it was an attempt at communication from her parents. What else could "live" mean?

Faith had no idea how long she sat staring at and examining the parchment, but when she looked up again, the Great Hall had all but emptied, save for a few NEWT students who had a free period. Glancing at her watch, Faith realized she had mere seconds to get to the potions classroom. She jumped out of her seat, grabbed her bookbag and ran out the door; praying Professor Harris would be in a kind mood today.

Faith slowed to a stop and paused outside the classroom door to catch her breath. Peering in, she noted that the class had already started, but fortunately a seat was open right by the door. She quietly slipped in while Professor Harris momentarily had his back turned as he went to write the assignment on the board.

Faith quickly stowed the crumpled parchment in her pocket and pulled out all the necessary materials, opened her book, and began work immediately on the potion; pouring more focus than necessary into her work. She knew she was likely not completely out of hot water, but hoped that her hard work would show the sincere apology lying in her heart, and perhaps warrant her a bit of a reprieve.

[Kessidy James]

Kessidy James sat in her seat and was doodling a heart on a piece of parchment she took out of her bag when class started. Kessidy felt that she must take a seat in the back row, she doesn't know why, but she just does. In the back row was the girl Kessidy was staring at in the Entrance Hall. Kessidy noticed the tear stains on her cheeks and instinctly felt sorrow for the girl.

Kessidy, who didn't even notice that class had begun, started turning her attention to Professor Harris. She knew that she couldn't really pay attention when there was that crying girl next to her. "Why did I just have to choose a chair in the back row?", Kessidy asked herself.

Kessidy, then noticed that the Ravenclaw girl had fell asleep. Kessidy wondered if she should wake the girl up, but then had to think if she really wanted to do that or not. "Should I really do this? And startle her and have her scream at the top of her lungs? No, I don't think the girl would want that. She doesn't look like a publicity person. But, Hey! More attention for me!"

Kessidy was about to wake the girl up and startle her, when the girl jerked awake, shaking. Kessidy looked at her in astonishment. "Wow, she must have had some nightmare if she's waking up like that.", Kessidy thought. The girl put her face in her hands and started sobbing. The girl, then walked straight out of the classroom. "Right in the middle of class! Well, if I could do that I would because I'm starting to get bored.", Kessidy thought.

Kessidy decided she didn't really want to be part of this lesson today and drowned out the sound of the professors voice. For entertainment, she drew on the parchment she took out for class earlier.

Kessidy, who had an observant mind, noticed a Ravenclaw girl, maybe a little older that the crying Ravenclaw girl, slip into a seat in right next to the door, without the teacher noticing (or she thinks he didn't). Kessidy had to give a little giggle at that, because now she had respect for the girl. Respect because she sneaked into a class without getting in trouble (maybe she won't get in trouble).

With an even louder laugh, Kessidy leaned back into her seat and started daydreaming about how it would be with her older sister at Hogwarts. Speaking of sister, a heavy thought struck Kessidy.

Had her parents found out she hadn't made it in Slytherin?

[Sebastian Harris]

((OOC: Kessidy, I need you to edit your post. You don't control my characters, so you don't know if Sebastian noticed it or not But good post overall! Take five points for Hufflepuff))

[Sebastian Harris]

Sebastian was busying himself with checking his stock of ingredients after Faith slipped in. He rummaged through what appeared to be some of the most foul things on earth. From jars filled with dead spiders to jars filled with tiny eyes (newt eyes, to be exact). He pushed a box marked bezoars aside and continued to look, hearing some of the students start on their potion already. "If anyone is running low on tubeworms, we have plenty in the cupboard," he called to the class. "The sooner you can get your ingredient kit refilled, however, the better. For those of you who are low, I would suggest writing home immediately after lessons end today."

Sebastian shut the cabinet after setting everything back into their correct spots. He turned around to see how far class had gotten when something caught his eye. Miss Appleby was sitting right next to the exit. A seat that had been empty when class started, Sebastian just now noticed. Exactly how daft did she think he was? "This class didn't just begin, Miss Appleby," said Sebastian sternly. "You will write 10 inches of parchment on how disastrous potions can affect the user when they haven't been properly prepared due to lack of of knowhow, to be handed in to me tomorrow morning. Now, set to work."

He turned his attention to the whole class after that, feeling that he had made his point. Some, he noticed, had not even attempted to start their potion yet. "For those of you who haven't started your work yet, anyone who doesn't start within the next five minutes will serve detention with me this weekend. Keep that in mind, Miss James," he added, his eyes lingering on the young Hufflepuff.