(1939-01-08) Calming Draughts and Conversations
Details for Calming Draughts and Conversations
Summary: Sixth Year NEWTs Potions Class and for once, the lesson seems to echo the conversation between Edgar and Lea and while the brewing was a little rocky, the end results was rather…calming. Potion and all.
Date: 1939-01-08
Location: Potions Class

The Potions classroom is a windowless classroom with stone arches running along its walls holding up a low ceiling. Within each arch are shelves that hold glass jars with pickled animal remains, both mundane and magical. Under the shelves are cabinets that stand open during class times to give students access to all of the potion making materials they might need. The room itself is a big square filled with a double row of long tables with enough space for four or five students to have a cauldron set up and books open at each one. At the end of the room is a stone dais with a desk set upon it from which the Potions Master can survey the entirety of the room. Behind the desk is a doorway that leads to the Professor's Office. During classes the entire room is illuminated by guttering torches and the burners underneath the students cauldron making for a rather gloomy atmosphere. Through a trapdoor in the floor by the Professor's Desk is a large storage basement that is used to store the necessary potion supplies.

Recent events may have had something to do with the Professor's selection of choice for the day's potion work. A Calming Draught. The fact that Heather Longbottom had come in, in hysterics may have also influenced his decision. Regardless, in the wake of the lecture, with the class having been freed from their seats to partner up and collect ingredients, "Who here can tell me the profession that might make the most use of the Calming Draught?" The question was given, and with surprise attention, "Mister Carrow!"
Lea's eyes slid in the Slytherin's direction when the Professor drew attention to him, curious for more than simply the answer, though she refrained for putting her hand up to be polite. Instead, paused in her collection of Angel tears and Midnight Rain, waiting to see where he'd partner once Slughorn's attention went elsewhere.

"…Healers, Professors; law enforcement as well if the intent is to pacify elements in the crowd that have been startled by a panic-inducing situation or cursed into despair, among other ramifications of use," Edgar replies after a moment, closing his book. He's not entirely certain, of course, but he doesn't seem to mind answering it like that.

Once Slug's attention is clear out of him, he stands and settles down besides Rashley, opening the book and reading it before intoning, quietly, "Hello. How have you been? I heard you left St. Mungo's almost the day after…"

"Very good," and Professor Slughorn swept away, no doubt to offer his experience and guidance for the act of crushing the delicate Angel Tear petals, an act that had to be done carefully, with little room for clumps if the potion were to have it's full effect.
Settling in before her cauldron with her collection of supplies, Lea blinked almost owlishly when Edgar joined her and kept her voice low while she worked on measuring in the rainwater, collected only at midnight for potency, so that it could be brought to a boil. "I was late with arriving, slept the night because it was requested, beneath the weight of a sleeping draught and yes, I left. What good would staying do?" It's not entirely defensive but there is a subtle suggestion of defense in it either way.
And after a rather long silence, the girl finally said, "Thank you, Edgar."

"Recovery. Healers love to follow up," Edgar replies as he follows the instructions outlined by Slughorn. He is very careful about it for whatever reason, perhaps because he knows he's not a favorite and needs to pass this class in order to qualify and pass the NEWTs necessary to become an Auror. A fine ambition to have, especially in light of recent events.

"You're welcome," he replies after her silence, and he is done with his potions. "I am glad you are up and about, however. Shows the mugbloods they haven't won."

"I suppose," is all Lea grants, instead her focus is on watching the cauldron bubble and adjusting the heat, while she crushes up the petals for her angel tears. The potion ought to end up white as a result, before further ingredients are measured and she's careful to make sure she doesn't rush the end.
"That was my intention." Is the reply that Lea gives Edgar, glancing sideways in his direction for a moment before once more she sprinkles in a few petals, watching the color slowly turn to the inky shades that are expected.

"So, we haven't spoken since before the Gala, yes?" Edgar wonders, stirring the bubbling concoction in the cauldron slowly, perhaps more methodically than he is used to. Then he adds ingredients, but the shade of white of his potion isn't quite the same as Lea's.

Awkward. He glances sidelong back at her but doesn't say anything else, either. He figures that she will approach such topics. He has no idea how, after all.

"Yes," a glance from hers to Edgar's and brows furrow, her attention shifting back to her own. Tone alone had conveyed she wasn't happy. Had it been the angel tears or the midnight rain? Squinting at the bubbling surface, Lea took a calculated risk to strain the daught over a bit of cheese cloth to remove any possible clumps and there were a couple, floating around.
It wasn't until after she was done, the draught returned to the heat it's color turning into a truer opalescent shade that she began to add in the bits of ground ginger, to help sharpen the wits, while the property of the rain had been to clear them. Slughorn's voice, so very near caught her off guard. "And why is ginger used in a Calming Draught, Miss Rashley?"
With a quick glance to Edgar, Lea replied, "Because after the events that generally require the use of a Calming Draught not only should the mind be clear, but equally capable of recalling all the facts in the event that the details help the Authorities or in more personal situations, simply to be able to see things in a clearer light."
The Professor swept away, leaving Lea's shoulders slumping somewhat in relief as she focused on gently stirring the potion.

"Are you upset at me?" Edgar wonders, stirring the potion-to-be and adding the midnight rain a bit more; it serves as a solution to dilute the substance, watching it bubble. He settles down and looks to Lea again. "I confess that you confuse me sometimes, though your political views are quite clear." He shrugs. "I tend to feel inclined to agree even more with them nowadays, all things considered." And events passed teaching valuable lessons.

"Uh,…" he looks at his potion after a moment, apparently wordless. He does murmur a few words, though, audibly enough that she can understand.

Beyond them, Professor Slughorn was cautiously reminding his NEWT students that hellebore was primarly considered a poison and one that they should handle with care. Two drops, in its syurp form was even a component of the Daught of Peace but for their purposes today, their focus was on the roots of the hellebore plant. Roots that were to be added in minced and measured, the potion left to boil until the pieces had all but stewed themselves into non-existance before the final result was strained.
Lea was…trying not to glance side-long again at Edgar and focused on her potion, on making sure each piece was just right and the same size of its fellows as it was added to the boiling draught. "I am confused by you. Which should be fine on its own," the girl's voice had dropped to a near whisper, "But what bothers me, is that I actually let you be in a position to hurt me. And yes, helping me at that horrible party has gone some ways towards it but it does not change the fact that you embarrassed me, publicly." And then her voice dropped even lower.

"I don't see how there was any embarrassment of your person," Edgar replies, taking some time from his potion to let it boil and thus let the ingredients recombine into a wholly different solution. adding more water and petals as necessary. He drops the pestle after liquifying something to flip a few pages of his book. "That would've taken a much publicized move before, during and after the event in question, which you know didn't happen at all. But…" he stops to listen to something she says in an even lower tone.

It's a slow stir that Lea gives the potion, letting it finish and settle out as it should, into something pure and useful and surely to her mind, perfect. At least she was relaxed enough now to settle on her stool rather than remain standing while it sorted itself out to an end. Lea frowned at Edgar though. Frowned hard and set to murmuring.

The reply comes after a moment and Edgar's brows are furrowed, whether that is in concentration or something else, it's hard to tell. He doesn't offer anything else and instead works on stirring the potion, before extinguishing the fire underneath with a spell, to let it cool.

Much like Edgar, Lea had let the fire ease down to nothing, letting the potion cool while the Professor came round to examine them all, doling out corrections where necessary and praise where it was earned. Again, like the boy beside her Lea remained quiet, neatly packing away her things so that when they were released the only thing she'd have left to tidy up and put away was draught and cauldron.

Edgar lets silence reign for a little while. He murmurs a reply, thinks about it some more and then starts to deposit things in the knapsack he brought precisely for this purpose at the class. He considers her words, sets his jaw. "I don't do things to chase after the glory of it," he objects in a loud tone, before murmuring the rest.

"A good many do," was Lea's quiet reply, as the Professor gave the signal to begin the offical clean up. They could leave once they were finished, of course.
Lea neatly began measure her potion into a vial so that she could fit the stopper in, while the truth was, she considered drinking it. Around the, other quiet conversations were rising in volumn, as the end of the class was in sight and everything left but the clean up and going. Lea's focus slid back towards Edgar, intent. "Are you? Or are you just saying that to shut me up?"

"I mean it. I did wrongly, and I apologize." Edgar replies, emptying the resulting potions in glass vessels appropriate for it and putting the lid on them before finally cleaning out his cauldron and other materials and depositing them in the knapsack.

Lea nods, a faint little bob of her head that sends her hair dancing for a moment, before she reaches out to tuck it in behind the curve of her ear. Very carefully with quill and parchment, she fills out the small labels that'll let her tell the new vials from all the others. "Thank you." A ghost of a smile at that, offered in Edgar's direction. But then, the pause stretched. "Now what?"

"Now we see where it goes. Want to help with the Duelling Club tourney?" Edgar asks, before he ties the knapsack shut and hauls it over a shoulder. "We'll take a thing at a time. I guess that's my cousin advised me to do, anyway."

"Of course," Lea replies, fitting potions into the neatly locking box that she carried them in; it was designed to offer them homes without spill or jostling. From there, much like Edgar, they went into a satchel that draped over her shoulder and tucked in against her hip. "I would love to help. When do you want to do it?" Inquired, as she stood there, lingering in his company. "And…for the record. For the…memory. Or rather, the apology. Thank you. The hurt was…, well it was weighing on a memory that well I recall with fondness."

"Perhaps starting next week, with Prefect approval. I will do it based on points, I think. Individual matches. Three points for the victor, 2 points for a draw, 1 point for the loser. The first person to reach 27 points or 9 won matches wins the tournament, with second and third places decided after that." Edgar replies, with a faint shrug. "At least, that's how I'd do it." A pause and he smiles briefly. "I… recall it likewise." He lets her know with a nod of his head.

"I could ask Sykes for you? Or we could go ask her together?" Lea offers, adjusting the satchel on her shoulder as she looks towards the door and from the door, to the boy. There's a pensive thoughtful expression on her face and at length, she offers her arm. "I believe we have a bit of a break, before Charms. Do you care to walk me we could…discuss?" The word came with a small smile. "Though 9 matches may be steep. You could do elimination rounds?"

"We can go ask her together." Edgar agrees, seeming intent to head over to the door for a moment before Lea offers her his arm. So he loops his around hers. "And, of course, where would you like to go?" He pauses. "I don't think elimination is good. I'd want people to have a second chance. Point-based or double elimination, I suppose."

"Point based then. First three to fifteen? And from there, they go against each other and the positions are held?" Lea suggested, gently letting her fingers rest over Edgar's own, after their arms had linked; leaving the classroom together. "As for where, to be honest, I generally spend my breaks in an empty classroom, going over whatever was asigned from the previous class. But, you have more of a social life than I do so…I'll bow to your request?"

"That works." Edgar replies, glancing sidelong at Lea when her fingers rest over his own, like it is still somehow unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. "No, we can go to the empty class if you prefer. Hopefully not the ones at the first floor, though. My social life consists of snickering with my housemates and playing minor pranks on people, after all." He smirks.

It was no different than she'd walked beside him when they'd agreed to a clean slate, to be fair. "You," a brow lofted as the girl glanced up at him, "A prankster? Forgive me if I have trouble imagining it." Though a glimmer of amusement touched her eyes. "I wonder though," Lea continued after a pause. "Have you given further thought to joining the Magijugend?"

"It is highly tempting." Edgar replies, "But I am not certain yet. So I will not request after it." He explains, letting silence linger for a short while. "What the mudbloods did is unforgivable and they put my family at risk. I will come after them if an opportunity leaps in front of me."

"Understandable," Lea agrees, strolling casually along at Edgar's side as they head upwards and out onto the main floors. Her steps slow before alcove, one that overlooked the courtyard through its great windows. Her question so soft it was hard to hear at all.

Edgar looks with confusion at Lea's question, glancing out at the courtyard from that vantage point.

"Sit with me at Charms?" Lea asks, the sight of a third year waving in their direction from the court yard drawing her attention. "That is one of my pupils. I have got to go see the how girl faired over the holidays and help get her back on point. Her father works as an obliviator in the Ministry." The excuse was made, in all politeness and with a faint squeeze of Edgar's hand, Lea unwove her arm from his to wave back at the girl.

<FS3> Lea rolls Potions: Good Success.
<FS3> Lea rolls Potions: Success.
<FS3> Lea rolls Potions: Good Success.
<FS3> Lea rolls Potions: Great Success.
<FS3> Lea rolls Potions: Good Success.
<FS3> Edgar rolls Potions: Success.
<FS3> Edgar rolls Potions: Success.
<FS3> Edgar rolls Potions: Great Success.
<FS3> Edgar rolls Potions: Good Success.
<FS3> Edgar rolls Potions: Success.

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