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Post by Curse Kameren on Oct 12, 2010 3:26:29 GMT -5
Ah, the potions dungeons. The thick smell of ingredients old and new in the various cabinets around the room mixed with the mildew of the dungeons, settling uncomfortably in the student's noses. The faint sound of a bubbling cauldron could be heard from another room. The classroom was chilly, the only heat available to it being the torches that lit it. Water was dripping from the cieling onto the professor's desk. But the professor's desk was empty. There was no sign of the Potions Master in the potions classroom, with only minutes until the class was set to begin. There was no trace or whisper of him. The only indication that the professor had even acknowledged his class was a message written on the old chalk board at the front of the room: The professor would be with them shortly.
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Post by Nuriko Elsywth on Oct 12, 2010 9:35:44 GMT -5
Well, the potions classroom was the same, at least. Nuriko noted, entering the classroom. Same old smells, same old dead things in jars. She wondered, as she did every year, if they were the same things from Snape's years teaching.
Sometimes it seemed nothing ever changed in Hogwarts. But as she read the chalk message left by professor Kameren, she wondered how much of what she'd read in the files was true. And had he really regained his mind? She looked around the room again, giving it a closer inspection as she idly changed her looks. Was she the only student taking this class?
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Post by Emery Fletcher on Oct 23, 2010 17:56:40 GMT -5
Being the oldest was rarely easy. Emery couldn't believe he had actually been a bit excited to have Eden at the school. Now that she was here, it was as if she wasn't. It was the first day of classes and he could count how many times he has seen the little sprite on one hand. A small part, okay a large part of him was actually relived that she hadn't been sorted into Ravenclaw. This distance thing would be good for them. He was too overprotected of Eden. He knew that, but he just couldn't help himself. So he made Eden meet up with him in the hall before potions for an update. Eden hadn't been too thrilled about detailing her new life to Mother Em as she called him. But she talked, about her roommates, her new friend Kitty and reported having some strange dreams but no real visions yet.
Emery walked Eden to class before heading off to his own, nearly late. He slipped in, his calm strides leading him to a seat next to Nuri. His usual calm persona in place. He carefully folded his large frame into his seat, taking out his supplies.
"Hullo, where Matt?" He asked nodding to the other empty seat besides Nuri. Where one was there usually was the other. It was how things worked and he liked routine.
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Post by Nuriko Elsywth on Oct 24, 2010 15:49:16 GMT -5
Nuriko had taken her seat, her appearance returned to its natural coloring (every strand of hair, and every inch of skin, even her eyes). She watched as other students filed in, talking among themselves. Emery slid into the chair next to her, seeming to take up a great deal of space. Nuriko resented the fact that most of her classmates were growing, while she was stuck as this short midget person.
"Hullo, where Matt?"
“Are you kidding?” Nuriko rolled her eyes, elbowing Emery. “Not only did you lose your grammar skills, Em, but you forgot how Matt hates potions?” the American gave a dramatic shudder. “I’m glad, personally. Last thing we need is Matti blowing another classroom up.”
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Post by Zahara Noir on Nov 4, 2010 22:24:14 GMT -5
Zahara had woken up sober for once due to not going a party which she was thankful for she didn't want to have to deal with potion class hung over. that would probably be disastrous. she had gotten up and done her morning routine which implied to what most girls her age done shower, make up, getting dressed. yes getting dressed was a must. She had scurried to get her things together and skipped to the great hall for breakfast. two pieces of toast and sausage link later she was making her way to potions class.
Potions? She wondered above all why it had to be held in the bloody god forsaken dungeons. She walked to class having an internal conversation with herself on the matter before arriving at the door leading to the class. It was the same as it had been for the past six freaking years she had been at the school. Maybe she should have woken up with a hangover. she seemed a bit crabby to herself. As she walked in shrugging her mental conversation off her heeled shoes clicked on the stone floor. Zahara was quite sure she was the only girl who wore four inch heels on a daily basis.
Walking to a empty seat she unceremoniously dropped her back to the floor with a thud, kicked it under the desk for the time being and plopped down into the seat. She was one of two other students in the room who were going on about a kid named Matt blowing up another classroom. She replied silently to herself
yeah i don't want to be in a class that is gonna be blown up i hope the kid stays out of here.
Zahara flipped her blond hair that was straightened out and framing her pale face, over her shoulder. Her blue eyes scanned the room wondering where the hell the teacher was. Class was to soon start and it didn't seem right to her that students got detention for being late but the teachers got off without so much as a glare from the other staff for being either ceremoniously late or near being late. She never understood the point of being to class on time when the teachers sometimes tended not to be. WORDCOUNT:: 382 THEOUTFIT:: click here TAGGEDFOR:: open COMMENTS:: no idea what time this class is so I just put it as morning. *shrugs* correct me if i'm wrong.
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Post by Curse Kameren on Nov 4, 2010 23:48:23 GMT -5
ooc: This is an evening class, around 5-6ish.
ic: “I’m glad, personally. Last thing we need is Matti blowing another classroom up..."
"Aww bloody Hell, but that was meant to be the first assignment!" A tall, gaunt man entered noisily through the dungeon doors with an arm full of papers, a crooked smile on his scarred face. The lank man made his way towards the opposite end of the dungeon, towards the desk; his walk was a lanky tread, one that made known his experience and hardships as previous Head Auror. This could only be Curse Kameren.
He ran spindly white fingers through his black-and-white patched hair, sucking in a breath with disappointment as he viewed the meek showing of students in his classroom. "Three? Only three, and here I thought I counted thirty on the roster..." The Potions Master plopped the papers on the chair behind the desk, instead choosing to sit on the desk facing the students. He started slightly as he sat, jumping back upward and grabbing the desk behind him. "Wet! The desk is wet. Why is the desk...?" He arched a brow and his emerald eyes rose towards the cieling, up at the dripping crack. "Oh. There." He shrugged, evaporating the water on the desk and his backside with a simple fluid movement of his hand. He seated himself cross-legged toward the front of the desk, smiling lightly. "Much better." He shot a gold spark upward with his finger, the light moving cielingward to mend the crack.
"Now, why are there three of you? I wanted to actually meet them before I scared them off..." The Potions Master seemed to pout as he reached back for his papers, mixing them up in his hands. "Oh, and don't be early. I'll never be early, i just set the room up in the morning and chase my nine-year-old around the castle the rest of the day," He sighed, glancing upward as the dungeon doors opened once more and several students entered the room.
"There we go, there's seventeen of you now. Twenty with the three early ones. Waiting on a few more, but it's their bloody fault that they're missing." The professor gestured towards the seats as the students sat, his emerald eyes darting from face to face. "Take a seat, we'll begin in a moment. What kept you?"
"Well sir, there was trouble with the staircase. One of the paintings says someone offended it, and it refused to move in this direction."
"Ah, see?" The professor winked in the direction of a student towards the front, a girl he recognized as a friend Max had made on the train to the castle. "Nine-year-old."
"Well, lets get into it then!" Curse exclaimed, grinning as he slammed his hands down on the desk, causing a large bang to catch the students' attention. "Welcome to Potions class. I'm Professor Curse Kameren. Feel free to call me Curse, Professor, or whatever you like as long as I know who you're referring to. Today we're really just getting to know one another, and I'll start with just a brief lecture on potions. There won't be much lecturing in this class, mostly hands-on."
The professor held up the papers, and the students could now see they were the sign-up forms they each filled out for the classes. "To get to know one another, I'll read off your little questionaire--I'll leave out embarrassing things such as allergies--and then you'll tell us about yourself a little."
"I suppose I'll start. Like I said, I'm Professor Kristopher Curse Kameren, Doctor of Physics, Order of Merlin First Class, Ex-Head Auror, and Honorary Member of the Wizengamot. That's a mouthful, so my friends call me Curse. What's next, age right?" He glanced down at the paper. "Oh, yes. I'm twenty-six years old. I spent seven of those years at the Ministry as an auror, rising to Head Auror before leaving for health reasons. I'm the second-youngest auror to achieve these titles, second only to Harry Potter. It was there I trained the best of the best of wizard kind to defend you all from the forces of evil. And they couldn't get the best of me, so neither will you. No funny business, seriously. I'll know." The auror arched a brow with a wry smile, before glancing down at the paper again.
"Hogwarts. I am an alumnus of the Ravenclaw house here at Hogwarts, because I'm very clever. I graduated at fifteen and then studied ritual magic in Italy. Next question, I don't think I have any allergies. Pain, I suppose I have a rather nasty reaction to that...." He paused. Silence. "That was a joke... No? Whatever."
"Moving on some extra background, I was born in Chicago in the United States, I have a son named Max who may sit in on our classes every now and then. He's a trouble maker. If he tells you to do something don't do it, and if you find him somewhere around the castle, tell me. Bloody kid wanders off constantly. And--what am I missing?" The professor's emerald eyes turned upwards before knowing dawned on him with a wide grin. "Oh--OH!"
"'If you had to choose between losing your left thumb or four of your toes, which would you choose?'" Curse chuckled, shaking his head in reminiscence. "Ah, yes. I love this question. I've come quite close to having to make this decision a few times. Tells a lot about a person, this question. Anyways, I would lose my left thumb. I'm quite good a growing thumbs back, but I'm rubbish at toes. Besides the whole balance thing and whatnot..." The professor glanced down at his papers, rustling through and grabbing a random parchment.
"Now we'll only do a few, and save the others for later. Who do we have here..." The professor's emerald eyes narrowed as he read the scribbled writing, "Nuriko Elswyth. Sixth year...." The potions master frowned slightly as he read onwards, "Now, come on, who have you been talking to? I'm not going to bloody poison you, you're only kids... Want excitement out of the class? You'll get it, I wasn't joking about that first assignment. And you'd also lose the thumb. Good choice."
Curse Kameren smiled, meeting eyes with the student in question. "Now, explain. Tell us about yourself."
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Post by Nuriko Elsywth on Nov 5, 2010 0:30:54 GMT -5
"Aww bloody Hell, but that was meant to be the first assignment!"
“Seriously sir.” Nuri assumed the looks of her best friend, down to the last hair, “He blew it up, and the whole wing’s never worked quite right since.” She shook her head, blonde locks reverting to her natural black, her face reassuming its own shape. “it’s a special kind of skill with Matt. We were only working on boil cure potions.”
"Three? Only three, and here I thought I counted thirty on the roster..."
Riko looked around at the mostly empty classroom. “I haven’t the faintest idea, professor.” She watched with some amusement as the professor went through a dance before he discovered the leak in the ceiling. And was that wandless magic? She tapped her hand on the desk. What she wouldn’t give to learn to do that!
"Welcome to Potions class. I'm Professor Curse Kameren. Feel free to call me Curse, Professor, or whatever you like as long as I know who you're referring to. […] I spent seven of those years at the Ministry as an auror, rising to Head Auror before leaving for health reasons. […] I'll know." […] Pain, I suppose I have a rather nasty reaction to that...." He paused. Silence. "That was a joke... No? Whatever."
The Ravenclaw’s mouth twitched with amusement, but she put forth a special effort not to laugh. Not laughing at jokes could be just as fun.
"Now we'll only do a few, and save the others for later. Who do we have here..." The professor's emerald eyes narrowed as he read the scribbled writing, "Nuriko Elswyth. Sixth year...." The potions master frowned slightly as he read onwards, "Now, come on, who have you been talking to? I'm not going to bloody poison you, you're only kids... Want excitement out of the class? You'll get it, I wasn't joking about that first assignment. And you'd also lose the thumb. Good choice."
Nuriko stood up, waving around at the other students. “Well in case you’re slow, I’m Nuriko, and I was freakin' joking about being poisoned,” though it would certainly make for a more interesting class than last year, “I’ve never tried to regrow a body part, but I bet I could get it right.” She grinned cheekily at the professor. “I’m from the States as well, but if you call me a Yank you’re sorely mistaken.” She jerked her thumb at Curse, thoroughly enjoying her time in the spotlight. “He’s the Yank. I’m from the South. Rebel states an’ all, if you know anything about our history (and you better for I had to memorize all of yours, and you have so many more years of it)” She looked at the teacher momentarily. “Off subject, aren’t I? Ok, lets see what else.
“You can call me Nuriko or Riko or Nuri. I’ve been called Nuke,” She mimed a swing, “For I have a wicked sideswing on the bludger. I’m left-handed, potions is my favourite class… no wait, maybe… no, yes it’s potions. And I suppose you’re all tired of hearing me yammer, so I’m gonna quit while I’m ahead. Behind?” She shrugged with an easy smile and dropped back into her seat.
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Post by //Rosabelle Ross-- on Nov 11, 2010 9:57:20 GMT -5
She had only wanted a short nap, only to regain enough energy to keep her head up during Potions class. It was supposed to last fifteen minutes, maybe twenty at the most. She did not mean to wake up, look at her watch, and find out that she only had four minutes to run from Gryffindor Tower down to the Dungeons.
Springing up from bed, Rosabelle made a mad dash around the dorm. She gathered up her supplies for potions, stuffing them into her duffel bag while at the same time she attempted to fix her hair, putting it back up and trying to find her glasses. These three tasks didn’t go over well when trying to be completed at the same time. Especially when eyesight had been compromised until glasses were found under a book.
There were shouts of classmates as Rosie took up a running pace out of the common room. Hurried apologies were given but she didn’t have time to stop to see who she was talking to. Instead, the halls were a blur as she attempted to sprint down seven flights of stairs and down into the dungeons in what was now three minutes. She better earn a freakin’ gold medal for the speed she was reaching.
It was hard enough to avoid fellow students on a flat surface; Rosie swore she nearly had a heart attack running down the stairs. She had to weave between students while remembering to jump over missing or disappearing steps and making sure that her feet did not come out from underneath. On a normal day where she had the time to walk down the stairs, it was tricky to keep her balance. Yet, today something decided to shine down upon her and it was an absolute miracle that she didn’t fall.
Upon reaching the fourth floor, Rosie glanced at her watch. It was official; she was late for potions class. ‘And on the first day, that is just excellent Rose.’ She thought bitterly, rolling her eyes. Her pace didn’t break though; she continued to run down the stairs in an attempt to at least make it to class before it ended.
Taking on the next flight of stairs, her speed didn’t falter. That was a problem when her ankle got caught in a trick step, sending the Gryffindor sprawling. Her bag fell down the steps and Rose bit back a yelp as her knee hit the railing as she fought for balance. Finally able to pull her foot out of the faulty step and collect her bag, Rose took up a much slower pace down the stairs. Her ankle throbbed and her knee was going to have a bruise from the railing and her pride had been sorely damaged but other than that, she was fine.
The girl was able to give a sigh of relief as she reached the dungeons. Despite her disdain for the place and for the class she was about to attend, for a moment she was glad to be there. It meant that she may not get in trouble, if the teacher didn’t mind her walking in a couple minutes late. Rose gulped nervously as she searched for the potion’s door and she rubbed the drawstring on her hoodie nervously. ‘Crap, I’m still wearing it.’ She thought, quickly ripping off the sweater. Along with being late, she didn’t need to rush into class wearing muggle clothing.
Stuffing the sweater into her bag, Rose finally found the door and tried to open it as quietly as she could. She flinched as voices could be heard, class had already started. Students already filled the room and she knew there would be eyes when she came in. Might as well not look like the pathetic late kid.
With a shrug, Rose swung open the door. A Ravenclaw girl whose name didn’t come to Rose right away finished talking and sat back down in her seat. ‘Introductions? Seriously?’ She thought, raising her eyebrows. They weren’t in primary school anymore.
“Sorry I’m late.” Rose called to the teacher, slipping into a seat in the row behind the rest of the students. She hoped that this teacher, Professor Kameren as it mentioned on the board, wasn’t fond of giving detentions. She didn’t want one on the first day.
OoC: Ack, not my best but I haven't roleplayed in a while but I promise I will get better.
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Post by Curse Kameren on Nov 12, 2010 22:45:38 GMT -5
Curse nodded, his crooked half-smile flashing at the first student to speak. "Alright, good Nuriko," He stood up off the desk, his emerald eyes scanning the class. They seemed like they were about to keel over dead in boredom. What am I supposed to do? Curse asked himself frantically, looking back down at the papers in his hands. Solving crimes and taking down dark wizards in the Auror Department was nothing compared to this. How in the world was he supposed to keep twenty students' attention for an entire class period?
"Alright, next we have... Za--hmm." The Potions Master arched a brow, looking up at the class from his paper. "Is it Za-hair-ah or Za-ha-ra? Noir? Anyways," Curse shrugged and read on, "Seventh year, Hufflepuff--"
Curse and the rest of the glass looked up and around as another student entered the classroom, late. "Are you one of the staircase students, or do you have a better excuse?"
“Sorry I’m late.” The student kept her head down as she slipped into a seat.
"That's alright, I was late too. Just don't make a habit of it. Where were we?" He looked back down at the paper, "Would like to learn anything beneficial. Well, that depends on your definition of beneficial, I've learned things that were entirely meaningless for years but then proved important later..." He read on, frowning in disappointment as he read the last question. "Do you really have to choose? Really? Of course you have to choose!"
Curse approached the student as she made herself known, standing in front of her table and looking down on her. "Miss Zahara Noir, if you had to choose between your left thumb or three of your right toes, which would you choose and why?" He arched a brow at the young woman, his face suddenly serious despite the silliness of the question.
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Post by Zahara Noir on Nov 13, 2010 13:33:01 GMT -5
Zahara was inspecting her black painted nails in boredom when she heard the teacher speak to her, well more over speak to himself trying to get her name right. As much as she loved her overly unique name. People seemed to have some problems pernouncing it.
"Well first off its Zahara, like saying the Sahara Desert just with a 'Z' instead of an 'S'. Its Egyptian for Flower and Second its Noir. The 'I' is silent. Its french for Black."
She was fighting back a grin at the crackpots seriousness over such an idiotic question that to her had nothing to do with potions,
"And I cannot believe your so damn serious over such a silly question... As for answering the question with a question which you seem oh so serious for me to choose between, I'd have to say I'm fifty-fifty on the matter. I would lose either, wouldn't make no difference to me, but at the same time I would rather not lose either because well that would just be potentionally problamatic."
She said as she stared at him ith her blue, purple hued eyes from her relaxed position in her seat. Playing with a strand of her hair absentmindedly she then spoke up,
"But on to talking about me right? Lets see. My mum ran away and estranged from her pureblood family and works as a journalist, my father is a halfblood professional quidditch player who is not estranged from his family and i have an older brother with a two year age difference he is a healer in training at St. Mungos. I myself like to party, a lot, drink, just as much and my goal for this year is to not show up to each class once without a hangover. But that is likely to happen."
She grinned mischieviously and finished as she sighed as if she had something better to go do that talk about herself - Straying from to many details on herself, After all it wasn't their damn business to know who she was She wasn't a walking autobiography.
"And I don't know why the hell I was shoved into hufflepuff....I think thats all cause I'm not much for sharing my life story with the people in this room as its none of their business."
Zahara said as she went back to inspecting her nails. Yes she was crabby today indeed. Maybe a hangover would have been better after all. WORDCOUNT:: 409 THEOUTFIT:: click here TAGGEDFOR:: open COMMENTS:: n.a
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Post by Curse Kameren on Nov 13, 2010 14:09:56 GMT -5
Well this one's going to be a basket of peaches I can already tell... Curse thought bitterly to himself, his smile enduring through Ms. Noir's sass. She could talk back and fight all she liked, however, the professor would still get his way.
"And I cannot believe your so damn serious over such a silly question... As for answering the question with a question which you seem oh so serious for me to choose between, I'd have to say I'm fifty-fifty on the matter. I would lose either, wouldn't make no difference to me, but at the same time I would rather not lose either because well that would just be potentionally problamatic."
"Sarcasm, Ms. Noir. It's a beautiful thing." Curse replied blankly to her snap about his seriousness. He had asked the question because he liked it, he had enforced its answering because he wasn't going to take anything from his students. This was his class, and he would run it as he wanted. "I'm sure if the situation were real, you would have an opinion. Anyway, continue."
"But on to talking about me right? Lets see. My mum ran away and estranged from her pureblood family and works as a journalist, my father is a halfblood professional quidditch player who is not estranged from his family and i have an older brother with a two year age difference he is a healer in training at St. Mungos. I myself like to party, a lot, drink, just as much and my goal for this year is to not show up to each class once without a hangover. But that is likely to happen."
"How charming," The Professor replied with an arched brow, crossing his arms as he looked down on the student. "As I said, I was an auror previously before coming to Hogwarts. A very good auror. And one funny thing about aurors..." Curse held up a hand, and a bottle shot out of Zahara's bag. The professor caught it, locking eyes with the student. "... is that we tend to know more than you think. Firewhiskey is not a required ingredient for any potions in this class. Twenty points from Hufflepuff, see me after class."
The professor turned his back, going back to his desk where he placed the firewhiskey as Ms. Noir concluded. "Oh, and one more thing: I have placed a bleeping spell on the dungeons," Curse grinned childishly, pleased with his own inventive spellcrafting, "you know on muggle telly, when the swear it gets 'bleeped out' so you can't tell what they said? When you swear, anything more severe than 'bloody', your voice will turn to a bleep. I now give you five seconds to try it."
"BLEEP bleep bleebleep bleep blee--" the classroom was a chorus of television-sounding bleeps for a few seconds, as the children all tried their respective cuss words.
"...and five. Alright! stop now! Moving on!" Curse smiled, picking up the papers once more an looking at the next name in the shuffled pile. "Miss Rosabelle Ross. Gryffindor, fifth year. No apples? That's a shame, I love apples. Potions to heal animals? Well, we'll have a class on basic healing potions, and if you want to stick around that day I can show you how to convert them to work on animals... And you'd lose your toes, because you're left handed. Very logical."
The Potions Master looked up, meeting eyes with the Gryffindor subject. He smiled. "Now, Miss Ross, tell us about yourself."
ooc: did a bit of playing around, based on some posts I saw in other rps with you, Zahara. if this isn't okay, just tell me & i'll change it.
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Post by //Rosabelle Ross-- on Nov 13, 2010 21:06:34 GMT -5
At the beginning, Rose had been dreading this class. Potions was a horrible excuse of a class, exploding and destruction was abound whenever she attempted to make any sort of potion. Usually the teacher had been stuffy, uptight, and bad grades were abundant in these classes for Rose. Instead, this Professor Kameren seemed different. ‘Maybe class will be enjoyable this year.’ The girl thought, relaxing a bit in her seat. The initial terror of being punished for coming in class late passed after he excused it and Rosie let herself lean forward.
It was just then the teacher raised his wand and pulled a bottle of firewhiskey from the girl, Zahara’s bag. Rose attempted to suppress a snort of disbelief and disgust. Why would a student carry a bottle of that on them? Rose herself had never had a sip of firewhiskey, or any sort of alcohol for that matter. She was what one would call anti-social. She disliked partying or any other sort of social gathering, especially if there was drinking or other sorts of illegal behavior involved. Call her scared or call her a child but she didn’t care. Rose just preferred not to get arrested and thrown out of school.
It was then after that Professor Kameren explained the spell. Even as students called out swears, their voices bleeping out, Rose kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t the worth the waste of breath, instead she prepared for whenever she was called upon. Judging by how the professor had torn apart Zahara, she would want to choose her words wisely. Rose just hoped that she wasn’t—
"Miss Rosabelle Ross. Gryffindor, fifth year.” That would be her name and the teacher just called it. Rose flinched and straightened up a bit to acknowledge that she had heard him. So far, all that he mentioned about her registration for the class sounded as though he was happier with his answers than Zahara’s. Except for the apples part, but she couldn’t quite help that could she? It did help though when he called her answer to his strange question logical. Quite because she sort of needed her left thumb to write, her right hand was useless for just about everything.
Rose gave a strained smile as she tried to figure what she was going to say. “Well, I’m muggle born and had no idea the wizarding world existed until I was eleven. My mother works as a reporter in Glasgow and my brother attends school there as well.” She started out, skipping over her father. There was no need to talk about the car crash. “Potions is not my all time favorite class, sorry Professor Kameren, but I plan to work harder this year.” She added the last bit, not wanting to seem like she was only taking this class to slack off. She had intentions of learning. “My favorite class would be Care of Magical Creatures and I hope that one day I can become a Dragonologist. And that’s all that’s interesting about me.” Rose gave a weak smile before easing back in her chair. Deep down inside, she hoped that no more questions would be directed towards her.
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Post by Allison Wonderland on Nov 19, 2010 23:07:18 GMT -5
Allison glanced at herself in the mirror, her eyes narrowed to slits. “Really woman! Really!” She shouted at herself. “First day of potions and you pick the night before to go to an amazing party so you’re tired as hell and end up sleeping in, but of course it doesn't end there. OH NO! You decide that sleeping off the hangover is better than trying to stay awake for a few hours. So your little nap turned into being out cold for a couple of hours. Which ultimately leads to you yelling at yourself like a lunatic. You're late to an afternoon class you idiot! Why am I doing this? I don’t have time for the usual personal lecture. I’m freaking late!” She paused for a moment in her ravings and ran a hand through her hair. She groaned loudly as her head dropped, her eyes closing. “You look awful. One look and he’ll know why you’re late and I’m sure like any brilliant teacher he’ll make as much noise as possible. GAH!” Allison shouted before storming out of the bathroom. She looked around at the group of girls that had gathered in the bathroom, staring at her. She snarled at them rather impressively, scaring the first year amongst them.
As soon as she was out of the bathroom she went into a mad dash for the potions class. “Late so freaking late. So freaking!” She chanted as she ran past people, pushing a few out of her way. Allison almost fell a few times, but she turned the trip into a stumble. Then turned that stumble into a tackle like charge of a run. It was effective in getting through the crowd, pushing some out of the way and scaring others. She skidded into the building, the floor was wet much to her dismay. “Crap falling falling!” She shouted her arms wind milling. “Crap!!!!” She shouted as she skidded into a wall. She hit it face first and fell to the ground with a thud. “Son of a bi----crap late! No time for that.” Allison got to her feet rubbing her lower back in agitation. “That’s so going to bruise.” She muttered before heading to the stairs that would take her to the dungeons.
She finally reached the potions room and came crashing through the door. It was a wonder it was still on its hinges. “I’m here! Sorry I’m late stuff happened and…and…well…” She paused realizing she had interrupted an introduction of sorts. She was also in the middle of the room, center of attention. Her hair was disheveled and she was breathing heavily, not the best first impression. “I’m going to go sit down now and lets all just pretend that this never happened.” She laughed nervously. “Okay then.”
Allison sat next to Zahara and laid her head down on the table. She banged her head gently against the surface a few times muttering over and over again. “Idiot. You are such an idiot.” After a few times of doing this she looked up at the professor and took a deep breath. She exhaled and gave her best game smile.
Allison nudged Zahara in the ribs. "What did I miss?" She whispered to her.
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Post by Zahara Noir on Nov 20, 2010 18:02:05 GMT -5
Zahara had been looking around the class still peeved about the empty slot in her school bag where her beloved bottle of firewhiskey had once nested happily. Her eyes had remained focused on the teacher. Contemplating on summoning it back to her own posession. But when she realized her fellow hufflepuff and dear friend was not in class she sighed. She was gonna have to takea leaf out of her friend's book and sleep till she was really late for class. She left her friend napping. She really didn't think Alice would passout and stay out cold.
But upon hearing some rushing from the hall she watched said friend burst into room late and now center of attention. She slapped her hand over her face and shook her head and fought a smirk that crossed her face. Looking at Alice as she finally sat down, Zahara snorted and spoke,
"Nice of you to join us."
But upon being ribbed and questioned on what she had missed Zahara growled and once again went to shooting death glares at the professor,
"Well besides some bloody introductions, The idiot took my firewhiskey!"
She exclaimed in an urgent whisper, as if it were the end of the world....that was an over kill on description for it but that was the best she had at the moment. Alice knew all to well about her dirty little habit of carrying the liqor around in her school bag. She still wasn't sure how the insane scarred up professor knew it was in her bag. For one it was out of sight, two she didn't smell of the lquid fire as she liked to call it and she looked completely sober. That was gonna really drive her banana's for the rest of the day. Or at least she was sure she looked sober,
"I don't look like I'm still hungover do I? Its the afternoon I shouldn't looked hungover. Or does my breath smell or something?"
She asked her friend as she sniffed her own breath and inspected herself in a mirror she pulled out of her bag. She was damn well determined to figure out how the teacher found her bottle. WORDCOUNT:: - - - THEOUTFIT:: click here TAGGEDFOR:: open COMMENTS:: n.a
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Post by Curse Kameren on Nov 20, 2010 22:24:13 GMT -5
“Well, I’m muggle born and had no idea the wizarding world existed until I was eleven. My mother works as a reporter in Glasgow and my brother attends school there as well.”
"Ah yes, one of my own kin," Curse grinned at the Gryffindor. When first taking up his role of Professor, Curse was worried about the blood status ratio of the students in his class; Potions was generally a Slytherin-favored class, and the Slytherins were mainly pureblood. The Potions Master was worried about having his teaching scrutinized for his blood status or worse, have him be mistaken for his pure-blooded brother. "Grew up in the Muggle World myself, as well. Magical place, isn't it? Its so dreary living in the Wizardind World all the time," The professor waves his hand around the dungeons to enforce his statement. "Anyway, continue."
“Potions is not my all time favorite class, sorry Professor Kameren, but I plan to work harder this year.” The Professor shook his head in mock disapproval. “My favorite class would be Care of Magical Creatures and I hope that one day I can become a Dragonologist. And that’s all that’s interesting about me.”
"I'm sure that is not all that is interesting about you, Miss Ross, but we'll find out more about you as class goes alon--" the Professor looked up at the doors as another figure barged into the dungeon, late. "Late late late. It must be a late day today, everyone's late." His emerald eyes followed the Hufflepuff girl as she took the seat next to Ms. Noir, who was still giving Curse a poisonous look. He smiled pointedly at Zahara before moving on.
"Now then, I think that will be all for introductions today. We will resume this fun little question-and-answer session on a later day, in a different class. Now--Potions," The professor sat on top of his desk once more. He sat cross-legged, fiddling with the bottle of firewhiskey as he spoke. "What are potions, exactly? From the Latin potio, meaning beverage, but that doesn't tell us much about it, really. Pumpkin juice is a beverage, but we don't consider that a potion. What is the difference? What defines a potion as what it is, and, most importantly, what give it the power and effect it has?"
[[this is an open spot in the dialogue, to be filled by student reactions or answers]]
"Ingredients, of course, play an important role in the potion's power, strength and what it does. Certain magical properties that are used in potions are what gives it its character. The ingredients are really the road map to what the potion is supposed to do; the ingredients, like in your Charms or Transfiguration classes, are the words that direct the potion and let it know what to do."
"The ingredients are important, yes, but anyone can throw a few ingredients in a cauldron. That isn't potions, that's cooking--which, I admit I'm dreadful at, so I might be wrong there. What I mean is, the ingredients and procedure, though they are important, are useless without the most important thing--you."
The professor stood, leaving the bottle on the desk as he paced the front of the classroom. "Any muggle can throw the same ingredients into the same cauldron, stir it up, and have nothing happen. Why's that?" Curse paused, waiting for a reply, "Exactly, because where potions get their magic from, though some ingredients can boost it and have magic of their own, is the witch or wizard brewing the potion. You are the power that runs the magic behind potions, and likewise, any potion you brew can be traced back to you. Creating a potion means giving up a little piece of you, like in every spell. The magic you're using is a part of you, and you sacrifice it to make something new. Potion-making, like all magic, is a sacred act. Giving up yourself for the benefit of something new."
The professor shrugged, arching a brow cynically. "However, I'm not here to teach you the philosophy of potions. I've been told my express duty is to teach you how to make potions, and let you figure out the why all on your own. Lucky you." He smiled, stopping at the center of the room and clasping his hands behind his back. "Which is why our first lesson, starting next week, will be based entirely on the construction and procedure behind potions. Your homework for next week will be to read the first chapter of your textbook, all about procedure. I'd like half a roll of parchment from each of you specifying the difference between potion names: brew, concoction, draft, elixir, philter, poison, and tincture."
"Then, on a separate piece of parchment, I have a separate, more hands-on assignment for you: you are, after reading the first chapter, to go about making a potion in all the wrong ways. I want you consciously making mistakes, recording them on parchment, and explaining why they're wrong. If you make something purposefully wrong, you'll know the feeling when you're doing something wrong on accident. Those descriptions will be presented in class, with a bottle of the potion and a label saying what the potion was originally meant to be, next week."
DING D-DING D-DING D-DING...
"Oh, that'll be the end of class, then." The Potions Master clapped his hands together happily as the students stood and left the room in socializing clumps. "Ms. Noir, stay behind please," The potions master's emerald gaze flashed at the Hufflepuff, before momentarily lingering on her friend. "Actually, Ms. Wonderland, if you would stay behind as well. I need a word with the both of you."
ooc: a rather short end to the class, feel free to post in your own interjections and opinions on the lecture before you make your character exit. ^^
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