take one down and pass it around

Alexander let out a deep sigh, his head shaking in acknowledgment, as he turned his gaze back to Molly. "I'll concede that I've made more than a few regrettable decisions, not limited to my time here at school," he admitted with a hint of remorse. This institution seemed to be the only place where his actions carried any weight. "And now, here I am, sorting through potions ingredients, attempting to bury the aftermath of the fight that erupted when I tried to make amends. But the undeniable reality is that it happened, and no amount of menial tasks can change that."

Molly could feel him looking her way, but she remained focused on her cauldron, watching the flames curl around the pewter bottom as she began to arrange the ingredients and her tools. She wasn’t much of a talker and somehow found it amusing when others found themselves rattling on. She couldn’t explain why it was funny to her, just that she had to suppress the urge to tell him she didn’t need his life story.

But she wouldn’t say that. She didn’t mean it anyway.

“The menial tasks aren’t for actual rehabilitation,” Molly said simply. “It’s a faux display of justice.” She glanced his way. “You tried to make amends. Did you mean it?”

Amidst the bustling atmosphere, Molly's inquisitive question pierced through Alexander's thoughts, making him pause for a moment. The truth was, his apology to Maddison held multiple layers of meaning, even though the initial motivation behind his actions wasn't directly tied to her.

"On some level, yes," he responded, his focus returning to the task of sorting. Engaging in this organizational process brought him a sense of satisfaction and allowed him to regain some semblance of control over his thoughts.

While his decision to apologize to Maddison had been triggered by an external event—the heated argument with Lily—he acknowledged that it was a mistake he had come to recognize. Left to his own devices, Alexander might have silently hoped for the situation to dissipate over time. However, his choice to follow through with the apology had been driven more by a desire for personal growth and self-reflection than by any specific intention to benefit Maddison.

Molly didn’t mind Potionmaking. It was one of those subjects where one could just turn off your brain, follow the instructions, and get a passing grade. The students who seemed to excel were the ones who liked to push the boundaries and experiment, but she had no interest beyond securing the grades that kept her safely out of the scrutiny of her well-meaning parents.

Sometimes flying under the radar took a little work.

She had enjoyed some level of Potionmaking, creating her own photo developing solution as she’d begun to experiment once more with photography. That was a good idea, now that she thought of it. She could use some of the ingredients. Perhaps Alex would leave soon and she could nick them.

Perhaps she could convince him to hand them over. He was a delinquent, after all.

Merlin, school was weird.

“It seems like a lot of work,” she mused aloud, her voice lazy. “Picking a fight just to apologize later.”

Apologizing hadn't initially crossed Alexander's mind as he carried out his actions. It was only later that he realized the extent of his wrongdoing. "I never anticipated the situation ending this way," he admitted, his eyes darting across the shelves. With the items now sorted into groups, his focus shifted to arranging them alphabetically, aiming for easy accessibility. Lost in his task, he reflected on the transformative moment when someone had confronted him, shedding light on the errors he had made. Alexander shrugged, acknowledging the intervention that had led him to reassess his actions.

A's, B's—those sections were in order. However, a small oversight caught his attention as he scanned the shelves. Dragon tears didn't belong in the C's. Swiftly, he readjusted the items, seeking perfection in the arrangement once again.

The cauldron was properly heated, and her initial ingredients ready. The recipe called for cold water on the boiling right before she dropped in the first ingredients, something about the mix of the temperatures blanching the roots. “Aguamenti,” she murmured, before sliding her chopped ingredients into the cauldron.

Onto crushing up the billywig stings.

“So what changed your mind?”

Molly's follow-up question posed a greater challenge than the previous one, leaving him with a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Determinedly, he meticulously arranged the remaining ingredients, ensuring they were placed exactly as he had predetermined. The letters ran through his mind as he organized the items, E, F, G, H, I, J, K... until finally reaching L. Every component seemed to be in its rightful place, right down to the wormwood essence. A faint, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, signaling the completion of this detention. Perhaps the second part of his punishment could be postponed until tomorrow.
"Confrontation and compassion," he responded simply, the weight of the words hanging in the air.

She picked up the mortar and pestle and began the less than thrilling work of grinding up the stingers, careful not to prick her finger. If she was going to be working on an off day, she wasn't going to risk a pinprick of blood forcing her to restart the process.

"Confrontations and compassion," she said, chewing on the syllables as they worked their way from tongue to teeth, enjoying the rare act of speech. "Quite a balance for someone to strike."