take one down and pass it around

The potions storeroom was dimly lit, with shelves upon shelves of neatly labeled jars filled with various ingredients lining the walls. The air was thick with the pungent scent of potions, a mixture of herbs, spices, and other exotic ingredients. The room was fairly small, with just enough space for a workbench and a few stools, but it was well-organized with all the necessary equipment within reach. The stone walls were rough and cold to the touch. It was here that Alexander sat alone, dutifully serving his detention by reorganizing the ingredients. It had been days since the incident with Kane and the other girls, and he couldn't bear the thought of facing his peers. The rumors about his beating had spread like wildfire, leaving him feeling embarrassed and vulnerable. As he worked, he found solace in the quiet of the storeroom, the only sounds the clinking of glass jars and the occasional rustling of parchment. He knew he couldn't hide forever, but for now, this was enough.

For all her indiscretion, Molly did not go out of her way to make trouble. She didn’t care for the rules but she didn’t care for the attention that breaking them brought either. She was happy to fly under the radar with her smuggled contraband and her late nights on the weekends, and conforming during the weekdays seemed like a fair enough trade off.

So if missing Potions class on Monday meant making up the work on her own during her free period, she wasn’t going to complain. It was an easy enough Potion and if she brought a vial into the next class, she’d get the grade and move on. Margo, who had skipped the class despite not having the cold Molly had suffered, said the work wasn’t worth it, preferring to soak up the rays of sun that had randomly burst forth after days of rain. Molly wasn’t going to fight her on it. Even if she wanted to, she knew better than anyone that sunshine would always beat out responsibility as far as Margo Richards was concerned.


Inside the castle was rather quiet. Everyone but the fifth year cohort had class, and many of them had gone outside to enjoy the break in weather. Molly enjoyed the silence, swinging her legs in circles as she jogged down the stairs to the dungeon level, trying to put herself in the mindset to get down to work as she pulled out her Potions book.

But she wasn’t alone.

Ugh, and he had all this stuff around him too.

Molly didn’t care much for the gossip mill unless it had to do with someone who interested her and, in the spirit of disclosure, Alexander Greengrass had yet to catch her attention. Margo was interested in everyone and everything though, so Molly had heard the whispers by proxy.

So what now?

“I have to do a makeup assignment,” she said.

Alexander was fully engrossed in his task of organizing the various potion ingredients on the dusty shelves of the Hogwarts potion lab. He was lost in thought, carefully taking items off the shelf and placing them together with their like counterparts. It wasn't until Molly Weasley's voice broke through his concentration that he even realized someone had entered the room.
He turned his head slowly, a faint look of surprise flickering across his features as he recognized the fifth-year. "I’ve got detention,” he said. "Need help finding something? ?"
Alexander looked down at the jar, his eyes scanning the label before he answered. "Troll boogies," he said, his voice softening slightly as he spoke. "Nasty stuff, that. You don't want to get that in your eye, trust me." Then he walked over to another section to put it with the other ingredients that started with a T.

Molly supposed the addition of another working student would not horribly derail her plans, though her solitary nature was slightly miffed at the thought of her intended isolation being interrupted. Whatever other rumors Greengrass had, one she’d seen with her own eyes was his aptitude as a Potioneer though, so perhaps this would work out in her favor.

She narrowed her gaze on him, before glancing behind him, pointing at a jar behind him of dried billywig stings.

He joked about avoiding getting the troll bogeys away from the eyes and she lifted her eyebrows. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

She crossed her arms, leaning on the door. “Extra credit?”

Alexander cast a glance at the vial that Lily had pointed out on the shelf next to him, before reaching out to pick it up and passing it across the table to her. "Fight, punishment," he explained with a shrug, before returning his attention to the shelves and organizing them. "And next, I get to help the Hospital Wing stock up on potions," he added with a roll of his eyes. "But don't let me stop you from getting your work done. I'd leave if I could."

"Ah," she said, jerking her chin with a quirk of her eyebrow. Right, fighting, the whole 4-on-1 with a bunch of randoms across different Houses. House solidarity in action.

"Not stopping me," she said with a shrug. "Invigoration Potion make-up. So I'll need some of those... and that... And those," she said pointing out the ingredients she needed.

"Better this than expulsion I guess," she said while she waited for him to hand her the other jars.

As Alex plucked different bottles off the shelf, he handed them to Molly as she pointed, but his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of his current predicament. "I guess being stuck here or stuck at home, kind of sucks in both places," he mumbled, a hint of frustration in his voice.

He focused on his task to organize the shelves, a monotonous task that seemed to stretch on forever. He sighed as he reached for another bottle, wondering how long he would have to endure this mundane chore.

Despite his grumbling, Alex took pride in his work, arranging each bottle with precision and care. As he meticulously sorted the potions, he found his mind clearing, allowing him to focus on the task at hand. The satisfying click of each bottle slotting into place brought a sense of accomplishment, and he found himself losing track of time.

Molly was detached but she was not un-curious. She’d picked up photography because there was part of her that was a natural voyeur. She didn’t know how to participate in life itself so there was this instinct in her to observe the way in which others did it, almost in the hopes of understanding those joys of life that had always seemed locked away from her.

Take what Alex had muttered, her discerning ear picking up on it despite his mumbling. She felt much the same, despite having absolutely wonderful parents that loved and doted upon her. She just couldn’t muster up that sense of what difference it made. Was she broken? Or was that the nature of youth to reject the comfort of home? Or did it signify a deeper disconnect, that humans did not know how to make happiness last?

Interesting, interesting, interesting.

She collected her ingredients and moved them over to one of the cauldrons, lighting the fire and beginning the process. She and Alex settled into comfortable silence…

But Margo would murder her if she didn’t ask.

“So, rumor has it you went on a bit of a tour of terror,” she called out towards him.

Lost in the silence of his task, Alexander methodically organized the shelves, his back turned to Molly. The incessant whispers of the rumors echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of the tumultuous events that had unfolded. With a sigh laden with weariness, he glanced over his shoulder, acknowledging Molly's presence in the room.

"It seems the rumors have reached your ears as well," he murmured, a hint of resignation coloring his words. The relentless gossip had become an unwelcome companion, haunting his every step. Considering Molly's perspective, he continued, "I suppose Kane and Cuffe have masterfully painted a picture that aligns with those interpretations. Regrettably, there's an element of truth in their portrayal." His voice carried a touch of melancholy, bearing the weight of the distorted narrative that had come to define him.

The beauty of accepting existential nihilism meant that Molly really did not fear much. She welcomed pain and danger because it was some proof of humanity, a test that made her contend with the fact that she was an evolved being dedicated to survival. But even moreso, she did not find she had the same fear of shame and embarrassment her peers had. She did not dread awkward situations or the stress of teenage drama. In the end, it all came out in the wash anyway.

So it was with no fear of repercussions that she found herself saying, “In other words, everything they said is one hundred percent accurate and now you have to face the consequences.”