 Professorrrrrrr! ❄Suaviter in modo, fortiter in re❄| ⚕=equivalent exchange=⚕ | pinned ya!
Listening to the Professor giving out answers to his classmates was distracting enough. The b-word momentarily ebbed away from his brain (for about two minutes). That was until the Professor himself announced the next set of instructions. Trent felt as though he was going through his execution. Of course, he followed through the first part of the step: lowering the heat. And yes, he did have a watch of his own so he didn't have to go milling around asking to share the time.
Trent stood still watching the hands of his watch tick. Five minutes only and in order to be productive during that waiting period they had to go ahead and measure the re'em and salamander b-word and crush the griffin claw. Now that would have been a piece of cake of Trent if only they weren't dealing with the b-word. That was his Achilles' heel. And from years of experience, he found it easier for him and everyone else if he made them aware of that fact before certain consequences arose (like you know, fainting out of nowhere and knocking the cauldron down accidentally that it's incomplete contents would spill wildly creating a bizarre reaction to each student in the room that their biceps would grow excessively in size). So, that was it. Trent decided that it was best if he informed the Professor of his phobia and what better way than to proclaim it as if he was merely asking a the man a question. But first, Trent went about and cleaned the a bowl, cup and metal spoon.
When he was done doing so, the Ravenclaw took a huge breath, wiped the sweat accumulating on his hairline, applied tension on the muscle between his left hand's thumb and index finger with the same fingers of the other before raising a hand. "Sir, Professor.." Throat clearing. "I have....hemophobia but I would really like to finish this Strengthening Potion." I can't stand being exposed to blood for extended periods of time. I might faint in a while. I don't care if you think I'm such a weakling but I do need help. The B-word free kind of help, preferably.
Scratching one side of his lip with his thumbnail, Trent nodded for emphasis. Yea, he had a weakness and everybody knows that now. Who cares. At least he acknowledged it and owned it.
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