She did not need owl eyes to see the cauldron before her and could not prevent the scowl from forming on her face when she read the message within. Yes, she was well aware that it was not a hat and was beginning to wonder if these tasks were purposefully trying to insult the competitors. Though she would not be opposed to a match of Creaothceann and clearly the lines were blurred already in this International Magical Pupil Standoff. Even if, perhaps, simply from a moral standpoint. Surely a competition that could release sixteen dementors in a forest at once could enable an illegal broom game to commence.

Pushing her bitterness aside somehow, Valerie’s eyes flickered towards the Whomping Willow (one of the rare topics in her History of Magic textbook that had held her interest for particular reasons) again and the vials dangling from it. The temptation to brew a Calming Draught was present, particularly now that she got to thinking how unfairly biased this task was in favor of Hogwarts, particularly considering this species being unique to the United Kingdom. There was also the fact that this whomping willow was one that her competitors had spent time with for at least five years and were likely to know far more about than herself. All the more reason she was grateful that her mood was rather pleasant at the moment. Any sort of sensory enhancing potion for that matter, but there was a purpose for a cauldron here and surely she was meant to brew something that she could not create with a simple wave of her wand. A few options crossed the Wampus’ mind, but before she became too many steps ahead had to buy herself some additional time with the Willow. Wand out once more, Valerie sent two short flicks towards the Whomping Willow to send a nonverbal Immobulus towards it and its subtle sways. Pausing a moment for the charm to (hopefully) take effect, she held her wand tightly and approached with rapid caution towards one of the branches lowest to the ground. Low enough for her to jump up and grab hold of one of the vials and then let the pull of gravity help her with the rest.

Walking along the under the branch, she began listing off ingredients as she went with ease. The semi translucent and iridescent sheen of fairy wings in a vial was unmistakable and quite the ironic ingredient considering the last task, but Valerie bent at the knees and pushed off the ground to pluck it from the tree nonetheless. Multiple vials of blood lay in a row next, which made her next selections difficult. Identifying bloods based on taste was far easier than sight alone. Particularly with the sheen from the vials causing discoloration on the various shades of deep crimson. She would simply have to pluck as many as she could now and use time later identifying whether or not she would need them all.

Which brought up unnecessary thoughts that distracted her from her task (now jumping up and gripping vial number three of blood). So many potions ingredients. Not all of which were useful to her in what she would be brewing. What was to become of the rest? What if the Willow were to come to lift and its branches wild? It was for this reason she was reluctant to use a Summoning Charm on any of the vials for fear that they would break against the wood and waste what lay within. Had the buffoons in charge of this competition taken the precautions to ensure that these vials would not break and therefore not waste its precious contents? She could only imagine that some of the vials containing clear liquids were phoenix tears. Was that silvery liquid far up in the branches obscured by falling snow and other swaying vials unicorn blood? The Wampus would be lying if other thoughts did not cross her mind. But first she would continuing taking what could be of potential use (now or later) along this branch.

Just as she had leaped and grabbed a vial containing unicorn hairs within, Valerie was struck with a thought. A thought that, perhaps, the potion was not meant to be used on herself but on the Willow itself by way of pouring the potion over its roots. Something that could, perhaps, make it more cooperative and willing to let her pass by without much fuss. Reminiscent feelings when she reflected back on the first task and how they had been pigeon holed into making it more compliant. Weighing this new thought in her head as she returned to the cauldron and set what vials she had collected thus far on the workstation (which was hopefully out of reach of being smashed to bits), her eyes scanned the great tree for other options. The topmost branches were naturally too high for her eyes to see from where she stood and climbing the tree was simply not an option. Not when she had a more efficient card to play.

Holstering her wand for safe keeping in her combat boot, Valerie focused intently on her transformation. Her body shrinking in size, her skin sprouting feathers, eyes widening, toes melting into one another and forming talons...it all happened at once and almost in the blink of an eye. The sixteen year old’s stature strunk, clothing melted swiftly into snowy white and buffy colored feathers, her slender face rounded, and eyes deepened. Significantly more pale than a the average barn owl (not to mention her pale eyes even in this form), she flapped her wings and took off. But not before her keen eyesight took notice of an unusual knot (several really considering trees did tend to have more than one). Something she had forgotten about previously. Was that knot not the key to immobilizing the tree more definitely?

Impatient as ever, she considered whether or not she could bypass the brewing all together to get to the next stage. Not because she lacked confidence in the subject, but rather if a Freezing Charm and pressing the knot could do the trick historically speaking, then why would it not to the same now? Besides, her swift flight as an owl could easily allow her safe travels through the passage.

Shifting her flight path, Valerie swooped around the base of the tree with her owl legs stretched out before her towards one of the knots (perhaps if she had been a Hogwarts student she would know for sure whether or not it was the knot) as though it were a small rodent.