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Hogwarts RPG Name:
Beauden Wild
Gryffindor Seventh Year
Hogwarts RPG Name:
Gillyweed Beery
Slytherin Fifth Year
Hogwarts RPG Name:
Ousmane Diomandé
Hufflepuff Fourth Year
Hogwarts RPG Name:
Rajan Patil
Ravenclaw First Year
Ministry Department Head:
Franklin Paton
Law Enforcement
Ministry Department Head:
Almer Toots
Transportation
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|  Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Mrs. Charlie Weasley | Seneca's Beard | That's So Fetch
Beauden's potion bubbled and frothed with each rapid stir, a whirlpool forming in the cauldron. The potion smoothly transitioned to the intended green, with a slight shimmer on the surface. He let out a quiet laugh, half-impressed that his experimental stirring hadn't backfired. The swirling green seemed stable, until what must have been one or two stirs too many caused the bright hue to darken ominously. Well, it was still green, he reasoned.
Professor Adara's voice cut through the classroom, delivering the final steps in the brewing process. Realising he had fallen behind, he hastily grabbed another stewed mandrake, tossing it into the cauldron without a second thought. The swampy green liquid swirled dramatically as the mandrake dissolved, turning the potion an eye-catching turquoise, only to deepen into a teal. His head tilted slightly as he pondered the difference between turquoise and teal—were they really that different? Maybe not enough to matter.
The thought of asking Professor Adara briefly crossed his mind, but the Gryffindor decided that everything was perfectly fine. After all, there wasn't enough time to start over if it wasn't. Letting the potion simmer, he observed as the colour shifted from teal to a rich, almost regal purple, or maybe it was more of an indigo...
Shrugging off the doubt, he added precisely seven grams of powdered unicorn horn, watching with mild interest as the potion glowed a rose-gold colour rather than the expected hot pink. His brow burrowed, tossing in another pinch of powder, hoping to brighten the hue, but the change was minimal. After some clockwise stirring, the brew shifted once more, this time to a deep crimson, though whether it was the right shade was anyone's guess.
So far, no explosions. That was a victory in his book. Beauden let out a relieved breath as the potion simmered, slowly reaching its next stage, a rusty burnt orange. Now came the delicate task of adding porcupine quills. He dropped them in one by one, mesmerised by the swirl of colours that followed each addition. But somewhere between the dazzling hues, he lost count. Was he at five drops? Six? Or had he already added seven? The blond couldn't say for sure, but the potion had now was an off-white colour. He lowered the flame beneath the cauldron, hoping for the best as he watched the liquid simmer.
The minutes ticked by slowly, and rather than cleaning his workstation like his classmates, Beauden couldn't bring himself to do anything but pace nervously. His eyes flicked back and forth between his cauldron and those nearby. Had it been seven minutes yet? Could he start stirring? Seeing others begin to stir, his mounting impatience got the better of him, and he began to do the same, moving the spoon in slow, counterclockwise circles. One, two, three—his mental count blurred as the spoon swept through the thickening liquid. By the time he reached seven rotations, the potion seemed to have reached its final form.
A steady stream of syrup of hellebore dripped into the potion, and the liquid shifted to a rich teal. Beauden squinted at Professor Adara's instructions to check if that was the desired colour. Teal, turquoise—close enough, right? He shrugged, deciding it was too late to fret over minor colour discrepancies that surely were subjective anyway.
With an air of confidence, he ladled a portion of the teal potion into a vial, the liquid swirling inside the glass. Without hesitation, he raised the vial to his lips and swallowed, feeling the potion slide down his throat. The vial clinked against the workstation as he set it down.
"Professor, how long does it take for the potion to take effe—" Beauden's words were abruptly cut off as his legs gave way beneath him. One moment he was standing tall, and the next he crumpled to the floor like a rag doll, limbs sprawled out in every direction. A loud snore erupted from his throat.
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