Lesson One

[Mason Wishart]

Mason sniffed the steam rising off of his purple potion experimentally. Good, no stench at all. The color seemed right, and he was pleased with the consistency. As far as he could tell - though he knew the professor would know better than he would - it had worked out just fine. He smiled to himself and began ladling the potion into the small glass vial provided for their finished assignments.

He couldn't help but wish that all of his other classes were as pleasant as potions. Despite the inevitable embarrassment of having to use charms for menial tasks like lighting the cauldron fires, on the whole he felt infinitely more confident in this class than anything else. Transfiguration was terrible, Charms was pure cruelty, and Defense Against the Dark Arts made him feel like a doddering fool. He could hold his own in History of Magic and Arithmancy if he worked hard enough, which he always did. But it was only Potions that made him feel like a natural at something, like he actually had a talent that could be used for something productive. It was the one part of his day where he didn't feel like quite so much of a spectacular failure.

He sighed and plugged his vial with a cork, then frowned as a painful odor drifted towards him. He sniffed, then immediately regretted it, wincing as his nose scrunched up in revulsion. He glanced around, spotting the trouble a few desks away, where a young girl was reaping the results of her mistakes. She looked like she was getting help from several students as well as the Professor, but her potion still needed a bit of help. It appeared that she hadn't put water into her potion in the first place, and now all of the ingredients were drying out and not mixing properly.

"You're correct, Mr. Adams," said Sebastian. He spoke with his normal tone, but he felt sorry that such a question even had to be answered. "Take a point for Hufflepuff for a good observation and return to your seat."

Mason normally wasn't one to butt into conversations, but the students were very young and looked like they were earnestly trying to get through the potion. As much as he hated to interrupt, he also hated to see students with good intentions trying and failing. And if he could help to clarify things, what was the harm? He cleared his throat and cast a benign look towards the girl and her friend, who was trying to help.

"If I might interrupt... Sometimes it helps to think about potions like cooking. When you're making soup, you don't just toss vegetables and meat into a pot and turn on the heat. You'd get a burnt mess in the bottom of your pot. You put in water first, or broth, so you'll have something to mix your ingredients into. It's the same thing with potions - the water here is the solvent in which you dissolve your ingredients. It helps the reactions happen and gives it stability." He paused. "Does that make any sense?"

[Anton Illarion Reshetnikova]

Anton had started to head towards the door when the silly little Gryffindor jumped in his way and started crying and squawking about how good and cool Gryffindors truly were, that they weren't actually the idiots they pretended not to be. Anton remember the run in he'd had with a crazy red haired Gryffindor last year in potions. He remembered that she always seemed to flub up her potions every class.

"Leave off little Gryffindor. You're pretty little speeches mean nothing to me. You are vhat you are no matter how hard you pretend other vise." Anton rich Russian accent flowed over the noise of the class so as to make sure the class would hear him.

"Seriously?" said Professor Harris dryly, once again looking at the vial and then back to Anton. He sighed. "Mr. Anton, just go. I want to see you in my office tonight after dinner, but for now, just leave this classroom. Frankly, you're not worth the effort right now."

With a chuckle Anton turned back to the Professor. He had been expecting some reaction but nothing as mild as this. He knew he'd be in for it later tonight with some type of crazy punishment, lecture or a combination of both. But Anton could only guess from what he'd already seen that this first class was a disaster. Anton couldn't help but to continue to chuckle deeply as he replied, "After dinner it is Professor. It seems as if your hands are full enough right now."

As Anton walked by the girl with the smoldering cauldron he leaned closer to the Ravenclaw helping her, "This is one snake 'ho shall never be defanged little boy. Bevare vhere you poke for you may end up getting bit. And though your sister seems to be a bit on the dim side, I'd sure like a taste of that sveet treat." He could see the family resemblance between the three sitting in a nice little row. The one Gryffindor on the far side of the girl was doing a wonderful job with his potion and seemed to be completely oblivious to the goings on around him.

Laughing out loud Anton stood back up and started heading for the door. He waved and called back over his shoulder, "You're office After Dinner Professor Harris. I have not forgotten."

[Ixora Ashlee Wright]

Listening to her brother as he explained that she'd absolutely failed at her potion, which Ixora had already guessed, she didn't really care if she'd be able to stay late to try it again. Ixora was still miffed that it didn't say anywhere on the board that they were suppose to start with water. What caught her off guard was when a handsome older boy leaned over to make a comment on her attempt.

"If I might interrupt... Sometimes it helps to think about potions like cooking. When you're making soup, you don't just toss vegetables and meat into a pot and turn on the heat. You'd get a burnt mess in the bottom of your pot. You put in water first, or broth, so you'll have something to mix your ingredients into. It's the same thing with potions - the water here is the solvent in which you dissolve your ingredients. It helps the reactions happen and gives it stability." He paused. "Does that make any sense?"

Ixora couldn't help but to stare at him in wonder. When he asked if she understood she simply shook her head no, "Sorry. Cooking doesn't make sense to me. That's Marcus's specialty. I'm kinda of ditsy when it comes to anything remotely dealing with cooking, but I have to learn potions to be an Auror. Besides, no where on the board does it say I have to have water or broth. I blame the Professor for giving inadequate directions."

Quickly distracted from the conversation with the handsome older boy Isora noticed the sharp mouthed Slytherin leaned down to talk to William.

"This is one snake 'ho shall never be defanged little boy. Bevare vhere you poke for you may end up getting bit. And though your sister seems to be a bit on the dim side, I'd sure like a taste of that sveet treat."

Ixora didn't know whether to be insulted or flattered. She considered the fact that she truly was a bit dim when it came to potions so Ixora decided to not be insulted and flashed a big smile at the Slytherin at his comment of her being a sweet treat. His accent was rather exhilarating and sent a giddy shiver down her spine.

Not only was Ixora flattered by his comment she was also waiting for her brothers reactions. She knew the boys comments wouldn't go unnoticed or unpunished my them. Her big smile turned into a bit of a smirk as she waited for her brothers to react, for Troy was behind the Slytherin. 'Oh joy!' Ixora thought to herself happily.

[Troy Argus Wright]

"There, finished." The potion came out well but demanded more attention than he thought it would. Potions class would be one of those things he had to put extra effort into to make the grade. It was because of the extra effort Troy didn't notice much going on around him for the past few minutes. As He put his finished assignment into its vial he noticed William had finished and gone to help Ixxie with her potion problem. She was a terrible cook, If Troy had been paying more attention he might have gone to help earlier.

"Yo! Professor!" Ixora called out as she continued to try to stir the contents of her cauldron, and scrape the burnt stuff loose from the bottom, "I did what the directions said, but it's just a burned mess on the bottom of my cauldron."

While cleaning up his work area he saw an older student with Slytherin colors and a foreign accent had heard what Ixxie said, and called her inept, outright in front of the whole class, without a single care. Troy became angered at the Slytherin's presumptuous attitude, clenching the vial in his hand. Troy didn't know that this person was Anton Reshetnikova, a 5th year, and Slytherin prefect, but at the moment he wouldn't care if he did. That one needed a lesson in manners.

After another blatant slant to house Gryffindor Anton casually walked to the professor's desk. A lady classmate had some choice words to share and came to house Gryffindor's defense. The professor decided to send Anton out and deal with him later. Troy had started another plan in motion that would be happening much sooner. All he had to do was wait for the offender to come back past on his way out, which was sure to happen now. Troy fumed with disgust as he placed his finished potion vial carefully on his desk, all his things packed, his area clean, ready.

While in front of Professor Harris' desk Anton turned to make even more mischief with his big mouth, directed again at house Gryffindor. Troy heard his brother William remark "Someone aught to have that one defanged..." Obviously Anton heard William make that quip, because he walked back down between the desks and replied

"This is one snake 'ho shall never be defanged little boy. Bevare vhere you poke for you may end up getting bit. And though your sister seems to be a bit on the dim side, I'd sure like a taste of that sveet treat." ....Laughing out loud Anton stood back up and started heading for the door. He waved and called back over his shoulder, "You're office After Dinner Professor Harris. I have not forgotten."

The time for getting even had arrived as Anton began walking towards the door. At that moment Troy put his right leg behind Anton's legs, his right arm in front of his chest, and pulled his arm back with force in an attempt to bring him to the ground. Such a simple wrestling move.

Troy thought after having his family insulted the most fitting way to bring Anton's head out of the clouds would be to use a Russian leg sweep.

[William Winter Wright]

Troy had started another plan in motion that would be happening much sooner. All he had to do was wait for the offender to come back past on his way out, which was sure to happen now. Troy fumed with disgust as he placed his finished potion vial carefully on his desk, all his things packed, his area clean, ready.

William looked over to Troy cautiously. While he knew that he could hold his temper to words most of the time, his twin was a bit more... direct. This was quickly turning into a powder keg beyond his control. Noticing Troy carefully clearing his desk William smelled the uncanny aroma of a plan forming in his younger brothers head. "Merlin's beard Troy, don't be stupid," he said quietly under his breath.

"This is one snake 'ho shall never be defanged little boy. Bevare vhere you poke for you may end up getting bit. And though your sister seems to be a bit on the dim side, I'd sure like a taste of that sveet treat." ....Laughing out loud Anton stood back up and started heading for the door. He waved and called back over his shoulder, "You're office After Dinner Professor Harris. I have not forgotten."

William's eyes darkened as he stared at the older boy. Now the snake had gone to far. Threatening him was fine, Will had seen far worse than Anton, but NO ONE TALKED ABOUT HIS SISTER THAT WAY! William watched Troy's body language as the older boy approached. Knowing his twin he figured Troy had only planned his first move not a way to neutralize the boy when the haze of his sudden introduction from the floor was over. William knew what an experienced wizard with ill intent could do with a wand and would not let that befall Troy while he could stop it. While the Slytherin was still a student he was also much older and would make short work of Troy. William coiled himself by the potion table and waited. Troy would strike soon, he felt it.

The time for getting even had arrived as Anton began walking towards the door. At that moment Troy put his right leg behind Anton's legs, his right arm in front of his chest, and pulled his arm back with force in an attempt to bring him to the ground. Such a simple wrestling move.

Troy thought after having his family insulted the most fitting way to bring Anton's head out of the clouds would be to use a Russian leg sweep.

A moment before Troy struck William had already sprung. Timing would be crucial to take down this beast. He pushed off and lifted his legs carefully over the table, planting a hand for balance. Landing on the opposite side Will latched his eyes coldly on his target. Sprinting the short distance Will calculated the angle of Anton's impending fall and prepared for his arrival on the ground.

Will was ready. The moment the older boy fell he would lock his legs around the boys neck and upper body then grab his forearm and wrist and yank back with all of his might. Should it all go to plan he would have his right arm in a perfect arm bar. "Troy get his left hand!" Anton would also be open from an attack on his lower body. William focused his mind on Marc and hoped by some magic his bother would be on the same page. Anton would be open and Marc would be the perfect compliment to this assault. Retribution would belong to each of them. This class would teach Anton a lesson, even if it had nothing to do with the potions.

[Anton Illarion Reshetnikova]

As Anton sauntered towards the door, arm raised over his head, waving a farewell to the teacher, he was attacked, and quickly. Ashamed of being ambushed, Anton hadn't been prepared for a "third" party to intervene with his little discussion with the Ravenclaw.

What really caught Anton by surprise was the Russian leg sweep that threw him backwards to the floor. He had enough time throw his right arm up instinctively to protect his from cracking his head too hard on the stone floor of the potions class. For a stunned second Anton stared at the ceiling, while with his left hand he started to reach for his wand. He'd teach the attacker a lesson he'd none too soon forget.

Pushing himself up into a sitting position with his right hand so to better see his attacker, Anton saw double. He didn't believe he'd hit his head that hard and what cleared things up for him was that one wore blue robes, the other red. Why hadn't he noticed that when he'd walked in? "Because you weren't really paying that much attention, cocky boy! Didn't great great grandfather Gregorio teach you anything?!"

The first year in blue was on his in a heart beat, grabbing his right arm in a pretty intense arm lock and his legs wrapped around his neck, throwing him back down onto his back. Before the one in red could react to his twins commands Anton pointed his wand, and called out, "Everte Statum!" If the spell hit its mark the young boy would go flying across the room away from him giving enough time to find a way out of his twins grip.

"Professor Harris! This is ridiculous! Get this vorm off me before I hex him too!" Anton roared in the Professors direction as he tried to squirm out of the Ravenclaws grip.

[Marcus Tiberius Wright]

Despite being late, Marcus was certain that he was going to be able to turn this lesson around for himself. Before entering the class room he had little to no interest in the subject at all. Now however, he was quite intrigued. It seemed an awful lot like cooking to him and since he spent most of his evenings at home either helping his father prepare dinner for the family or looking over his mother's old recipe books, he was actually starting to enjoy the class. In fact, his was pretty sure that his potion was just about to reach perfection.

Knowing the Hufflepuff boy would not distract the teacher much longer Will took a moment to stair a few well placed daggers at the older Slytherin at the front of the class. "Someone aught to have that one defanged..." his words trailed off as he turned back to his sister. "Now lets see what we can make of this," he said taking looking over his sisters notes. "I am sure you can do this sis and I will help as best I can," he turned his eyes back to his sister. With any luck, he thought, she has not given up hope.


Hearing the sound of his brother's voice, Marcus looked up to find William by Ixxie. Now that he wasn't enraptured in his own potion he could smell the burning mess coming from her cauldron. Hmm, we probably should have seen this coming, he thought to himself as he watch them. Marcus was a bit confused about who William was talking about and looking down, he noticed he had stopped stirring his potion. Marcus swore under his breath and quickly went about bottling his potion when he overheard the Russian boy speak.

"This is one snake 'ho shall never be defanged little boy. Bevare vhere you poke for you may end up getting bit. And though your sister seems to be a bit on the dim side, I'd sure like a taste of that sveet treat." ....Laughing out loud Anton stood back up and started heading for the door. He waved and called back over his shoulder, "You're office After Dinner Professor Harris. I have not forgotten."

Marcus' head shot up in the boy's direction. Did he really just say that? He thought as he watched the boy intently. Quickly, the young Gryffindor took his cauldron off the fire and set the bottled potion on the table next to it. A scowl formed on his face as he stepped out from behind his table. Marcus' vision darkened and almost everyone else in the room disappeared to him. All he could see was Anton and his siblings. Clearly, something had to be done. NO ONE TALKED ABOUT HIS SISTER THAT WAY! And before he could even reach the older boy. Troy had already began his assault.

The time for getting even had arrived as Anton began walking towards the door. At that moment Troy put his right leg behind Anton's legs, his right arm in front of his chest, and pulled his arm back with force in an attempt to bring him to the ground. Such a simple wrestling move.

Troy thought after having his family insulted the most fitting way to bring Anton's head out of the clouds would be to use a Russian leg sweep.

The first year in blue was on his in a heart beat, grabbing his right arm in a pretty intense arm lock and his legs wrapped around his neck, throwing him back down onto his back. Before the one in red could react to his twins commands Anton pointed his wand, and called out, "Everte Statum!" If the spell hit its mark the young boy would go flying across the room away from him giving enough time to find a way out of his twins grip.

"Professor Harris! This is ridiculous! Get this vorm off me before I hex him too!" Anton roared in the Professors direction as he tried to squirm out of the Ravenclaws grip

The expression on Marcus' face had turned from a scowl to his smirk as he saw his brother leap on the older Slytherin. Age doesn't count for everything, he thought as he quickly moved forward. Marcus flinched for the briefest of second when the boy drew his wand and aimed a spell at Troy. He hoped that his brother's reflexes would be enough to save him but there was no way of knowing for certain. With the Russian boy's voice still ringing in his ears, Marcus set himself to his task. he would end this little conflict right now.

Marcus roared as he raced towards the prone boy. "How does this taste, Slytherin trash?" Marcus yelled as he found himself within striking distance. With the strength and accuracy that only a football player could possess, aimed a powerful kick right at the boy's groin. if he connected he was certain that the Slytherin piece of garbage would be down for the count, so to speak. Marcus knew that the penalty would be stiff but it was well worth it.

[Gwendolyn Marie Bertrand]

As she walked through the hallways towards her potions classroom, she heard loud noises erupting from the door and a crowd forming. Rolling her eyes and sighing, Gwen pushed her way through the crowd to see what was going on. Upon arriving at the scene, Gwen saw a Slytherin male struggling on the ground with a Gryffindor binding his body. Nearby a Ravenclaw, assumed first-year was on the opposite side of the classroom door, and another Gryffindor was nearby the Slytherin male. Sighing Gwen thoughtTypical male behavior. Arguing physically instead of sorting it out in a calm, collected manner.

Pulling out her wand, Gwen sighed. Although she didn't want to do it, she was pissed at the improper mannerisms that were happening within the classroom. Casting Petrificus Totalus on all members of the fight, Gwen hoped she had hit and finally got the fight underhand. Slipping pass the fight to the best of her ability, Gwen went to the front of the class and waited idly for the Professor. As she waited for the Professor to fully stop the fight she said "I hope you don't mind that I aided to prevent the fighting Professor. I just believe that this sort of behavior is inappropriate for a potions classroom and that it should be taken outside to prevent any damage to the classroom and the students."

[Troy Argus Wright]

Lesson one had almost ended and then Troy's chance at staying in Professor Harris' good graces was completely shot. But for insulting his family, his house, and eyeballing his little sister (she's much too young for interest from haughty creeps), Anton had it coming.

After successfully taking down the prideful Russian with a (rather poetic) Rusian leg sweep, Troy easily got to his feet with a satisfied but mischievous grin. Will had caught Anton's right arm in a hold and Troy assumed Anton was a rightie so the threat of his wand hand was taken care of.

He was too caught up in the moment to hear his brother William trying to warn him about Anton grabbing his wand in his left hand. Troy put the pieces together and started to reach down at the left hand just a second too late to prevent him from casting.

The first year in blue was on his in a heart beat, grabbing his right arm in a pretty intense arm lock and his legs wrapped around his neck, throwing him back down onto his back. Before the one in red could react to his twins commands Anton pointed his wand, and called out, "Everte Statum!"

The 5th year Slytherin's spell hit it's target 1st year Gryffindor in the lower abdomen, making Troy fold as he flew backward and pinwheeled into a wall with a bookshelf, dislodging a few tomes from its shelves onto Troy when he hit the ground. Shrugging off the impact with an adrenaline rush (He'll feel it later), Troy picked himself up and laughed as he spoke "Stay away from my sister, and my brothers. Creep."

[William Winter Wright]

"Curses and boils," Will spat as he saw Anton grab his wand out in his left hand.

Before the one in red could react to his twins commands Anton pointed his wand, and called out, "Everte Statum!" If the spell hit its mark the young boy would go flying across the room away from him giving enough time to find a way out of his twins grip.

Will was to busy helping Ixiora earlier to notice which hand he had given his potion to the teacher with earlier. Unfortunately, Anton it seemed was either left handed or ambidextrous. Either way it did bode well for the wright brothers retaliation. "TROY!" Will shouted desperatly as the older boy loosed his spell at his twin. Even as the shouted warning left his lips Will knew it came to late.

The 5th year Slytherin's spell hit it's target 1st year Gryffindor in the lower abdomen, making Troy fold as he flew backward and pinwheeled into a wall with a bookshelf, dislodging a few tomes from its shelves onto Troy when he hit the ground.

William's heart brimmed with rage as his brother flew through the air. This had to end soon. He refused to see his siblings tossed about like leaves on the wind. Turning his head Will saw that Marc was quickly on the approach.

Marcus roared as he raced towards the prone boy. "How does this taste, Slytherin trash?" Marcus yelled as he found himself within striking distance. With the strength and accuracy that only a football player could possess, aimed a powerful kick right at the boy's groin. if he connected he was certain that the Slytherin piece of garbage would be down for the count, so to speak. Marcus knew that the penalty would be stiff but it was well worth it.

Seeing Marc's plan William pushed the arm lock deeper arcing his back off the ground with a grunt of exertion. Forgetting restraint he wrenched the 5th years arm till his legs and arms burned like fire. With luck the pain the tactless boy would experience would be enough for his youngest brother to deal the final bow. Perhaps with his bollocks in his throat he would not be able to make any more rude comments. At least for a while.