Lesson 7 - N.E.W.T. Level

Bloody hell, he came here only to be the Headmaster, and to think that he had almost been denied that promise, and now he is limping to the Dungeons to teach Potions... all over again, to hormone raging brats who have absolutely no interest in these bottles filled with colorful liquids. Yes, he had been some sort of puppet Headmaster, but he did actually have far more authority than anyone thought, which made him a powerful nemesis to those who wanted to control him, but more on that later, right? He sat on top of his desk, starting to play with his cane, waiting for the brats to arrive.

It was always a treck getting down to the Dungeons, especially from the Seventh floor, but today, Rafael relished it. He had his mind firmly fixed on magic and for once, he didn't seem resentful of it. He was convinced that the spring had brought this change in him. It was either that or his conversation with Renny had really helped him somewhat. He knew he couldn't get money from anywhere, he'd need to oil the wheels of the old blackmail cart to get some of that, but that didn't mean he couldn't look after his family.

That realisation had made him settle. After seven years, he was beginning to settle. It was sod's law really.

Opening the door of the classroom, Rafael found the Headmaster sat on his desk. It was always rather intimidating yet at the same time, he was rather inviting. Rafael bit his lip but managed to break that habit with a smile. He needed to leave it to heal. He'd let it scab over and after taking that off, he discovered a thin layer of skin underneath that could so easily be broken. He wanted to avoid that.

Rafael cleared his throat. "Good Day, sir." He greeted the man, leaving the door open as he stepped inside. More people were bound to show up. Taking his seat, Rafael deposited his bag underneath his chair. He looked up and smiled once more. "What are we going to do today?"

Whistling, Elijah strutted (yes strutted, hip wiggling and all) down the corridor. He was very, very happy today. Overjoyed, elated -- all of those words that he probably didn't know,though there was a high chance he did, that he never used to describe happiness, well, those would be how to describe Elijah. Why he was happy, no one knows but it was probably insanity alcohol Chase ....he was just happy.

Whatever the cause, Elijah was about to head to potions -- not exactly the most exciting class in the world. He was fair at it. Potions was always something to fall back on when bored; if only because the margins in the books are so massive that they're perfect for drawing in. No matter though, because nothing could break this boy's mood. He was young, he was in love and he was a father to be. Everything was perfect at present and nothing upon nothing could rock the boat.

"Good Morniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnngg!"

Elijah yodelled as he bounded through the door. He took off his bag and chucked it under one of the tables before bouncing up towards the Headmaster.

"How are you today sir?" He asked, enthusiasm oozing from his very person, not just his voice. He was like a child on a sugar rush -- especially in the way he bounced up and down. Yes, someone had spent all night up with a bottle of wine and chocolate. He'd come off the sugar high later and he'd flake out somewhere. Or maybe he wouldn't. Only time would tell.

"I love the smell of potions! They're sooo...potionee... is that a word, sir? I don't think so? How was your weekend? Like Armstrong said. I hope it was good. Did you talk to Khaat? She's my guardian. Well, not technically but at the same time technically. Do you like her sir. I lurrrrveee her!"

Elijah's shout had echoed down the hallway leading up to the Potions room. Trowa had been absorbed in a sketchbook that had been handed to him by a friend. He'd seen the Slytherin disappear into the room and then, he heard the strange shout of well, pure glee. Trowa didn't know what had been put in Elijah's pumpkin juice but it was working a charm. That was what the melancholy Slytherin needed: a bit of a mood lifter, some hilarity -- even if he was the one causing it.

Trowa walked in shortly after the Slytherin, a wide smile on his lips. He chose not to sit at first, content just to watch the six foot something lug bound across the classroom towards Doyle. For a minute, Trowa thought Elijah was going to fall into him. When he didn't, Trowa let out a sigh of relief and closed the sketchbook.

"Good morning, all!" He gave his greeting and, with a smirk, moved to take a seat. Clearly, this class was going to be anything but boring.

Out of the four boys, Ariel was the last to come to Potions. He'd taken his time that morning but like Trowa, he'd seen and heard Elijah's mood. The boy had no shame. He could be broody one minute, sexually-minded the next and then he was like...well, this.

Ariel came in behind Trowa and, like the Ravenclaw, he too couldn't find anything to say. It was rather intriguing. Ariel found himself wishing the idiot would get a bop on the nose and kick up the rear for his troubles. It was doubtful though. He was a Krum. He was worth millions. He couldn't be damaged property -- that just wouldn't be right.

Smirking, Ariel moved further in when Trowa got out of his way. He found a seat for himself and dropped his bag on the floor. He shed his outer robes and tossed them onto the back of the chair before taking off his cuff-links and rolling up his shirts sleeves. He put the cuff-links into his breast pocket and took his seat, idly wondering what they'd be making.

Ariel could smell something rather familiar and a few sniffs told him what it was. Of course. Naturally. He couldn't avoid it. At some point, they'd have to make Wolfsbane.

''Judging by the behaviour of this moron, we will be pummeling him until he calms down'', Doyle replied and looked at Krum. ''No, Krum, that is not a word... but 'idiot' is. Luckily for you, I know where your serpent... s are... You seem to have picked up one trait from her... you're both addictive idiots... but, that's not the worst that could happen to you'', Doyle said, using his usual, sardonic tone.

''Imagine... being a freak of nature... Greyback should be able to tell you all about it. You, you are genetically determined to be freaks, if my biology is correct? I presume you managed to recognize the smell. Today's topic will be a very useful potion... for freaks, for the lot, just a silly task though which I will test your knowledge and torture you mercilessly. Now, you have the ingredients in your manuals. If you have any questions, try not to ask me. I shall check your progress from time to time to see if you are on the right track and when I determine that you aren't, which I will determine surely, I will... well, you'll see. Now, take your cauldrons and start working'', Doyle said.

Amelia was... late? The phrase seemed completely wrong, like those two words couldn't possibly reside in the same sentence, but as Amelia rushed down the stairs with her arms full of books and a torn bookbag, her stomach sunk lower and lower, confirming the fact that she was, indeed, late.

Amelia hated this feeling, and especially despised it today because it was through no fault of her own. She would have been on time if it hadn't been for some scheming Slytherin students that had been lurking behind a tapestry on the third floor. She had been walking calmly past them, minding her own business, when she felt a spell hit her knapsack, and a moment later all her books and supplies came tumbling out of her bag. Hilarity did not ensue.

Although Amelia would have liked to curse the three boys from here until Wednesday, they scattered before she could get her wand out of the pile of things on the floor. Cursing under her breath, Amelia threw everything that would fit into her cauldron and gathered the rest of her things into her arms as quickly as possible and bolted down the steps, but when she arrived at the Potions classroom, she could tell that her efforts to hurry had been for naught. The headmaster was just finishing his instructions to begin working, and people were pulling out their supplies.

Slipping into the classroom, Amelia took one of only two open seats available, which happened to be right next to Ariel. Amelia knew the headmaster had an aversion to her and Ariel being near each other in his classroom, but Ariel's table was nearest to the door and the most inconspicuous to get to, so she slid silently into the seat and dropped her cauldron and books on the table, letting her useless bag fall to the floor. She would have to fix that later.

"What did I miss?" Amelia whispered as she dislodged her potions kit from the pile of things that had been in her arms a few minutes ago, straightening the rest of her things and pushing them to the side.

"It smells like wolfsbane, are we making wolfsbane?" Amelia asked rapidly under her breath, panting slightly from having run down four flights of stairs so quickly. The Ravenclaw girl was in a rush to get started so her lateness wouldn't be as obvious. She shrugged her robes off and pushed the sleeves of her white button down up by her elbows, gathering her hair into a ponytail while she waited for Ariel to respond.

And, just like that. The good mood was swept away by a tsunami of cutting words. Elijah's face fell and he dropped his hands down to his sides, unsure of what to say. He let his eyes fall to the floor and bit his lip. Elijah didn't need Doyle's attitude. He could have just told him to sit down and take his books out but no, he had to be cruel. There was no rhyme nor reason to it but he did it anyway. The bastard.

When Doyle mentioned Nachash, Elijah lifted his head, his eyes hardening. The snake wiggled a little, waking up from her slumber on his back. Elijah swallowed and held the gaze of the Professor. His calm exterior faltered when he mentioned Khaat. Addiction. Something that was common between them. Elijah knew better than to retaliate, for it was what Doyle wanted, but no one - absolutely no one - spoke about Khaat like that.

His next sentence was proof enough that he'd been spending too much time in England.

"Oh take that bloody stick out of your arse you sour-faced, old tart. Leave me alone, Leave off Ariel and try and stop being a bastard for at least five seconds. I know it might be hard for you but you can at least try to change."

It was unlikely to happen. Actually, it was never going to happen. Elijah turned on his heel and stalked to the back of the class. He threw himself down next to Natasha and threw his bag onto the floor. He tossed his arm over the back of her chair and leaned back into his, still inwardly fuming at the bastard's words.

Finally, when Doyle opened his big, fat gob, Ariel remembered why he didn't attend potions as a rule. He was considering getting up and walking out but he buried his head behind a book, determined to try and block out the Headmaster's words. They cut Ariel deeply. Whether it was the Professor's intention or not, it didn't matter. It still made his heart clench and drop into his stomach. A lump formed in his throat and he did his best to swallow it, and the emotions bubbling, down.

Imagine...being a freak of nature...

Ariel sucked in a breath and clamped his eyes shut. In that moment, he wished he hadn't. Visions of Jack, of Rise, of his mother, of his brother and sister, of his father...they passed before his eyes as if on a movie reel. Each one showed him exactly what he didn't want to see, proof that Doyle was right -- that he was a freak of nature. Ariel shook his head fervently behind the book, desperate to take the thoughts from his mind.

Just as Ariel was beginning to snap, a voice came to his rescue. He took his head out from behind the book to find that it was Elijah speaking. Ariel's eyes widened a little and he felt his lips twitch into a smile. Leave off Ariel. Three words that stopped the blonde from lashing out himself. Ariel closed his book and put it with the rest. He ran his hands over his face and sighed quietly to himself.

It was then that the door opened. The Werewolf looked up and watched as Amelia scuttled into the room, hugging her cauldron to her chest. Ariel found himself rising to his feet as she made her way over. He put his hand on the rim of the cauldron that she dropped so abruptly onto the table, preventing it from falling off. He quelled the kinetic energy in the other items, dizzy from the fall, and looked at Amelia when she spoke.

"He's being the same as usual," Ariel replied quietly. "So you haven't missed much. He's thought up some new material though. It's...impressive."

Not necessarily the right word...but effective none the less.

Wolfsbane. She had to mention Wolfsbane. Ariel's lip curled and he lifted his head, his eyes seeking out the Professor. He mumbled a quick, "Yes," to Amelia and opened his mouth to challenge the Professor's comment. Wherever the burst of confidence had come from, Ariel was grateful for it. He didn't want Krum to think he had all of the bollocks.

"Sir, how exactly can I tell people about being a freak of nature?" Ariel all but hissed before laughing coldly. "You are suggesting that...I am one?"