Horace Slughorn (
jointheclub) wrote in
witchesreign2013-01-28 11:28 am
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Potions and Items, Desperately Needed [Open]
[The Itemcrafting classroom looks like something out of The Sword in the Stone today, with beakers, cauldrons, tubes, liquids, chests, and sundry supplies all floating around in midair, almost but not quite bumping into each other. On one side of the classroom, knives furiously chop away at roots, stalks, and bulbs; on another, large tongs stir boiling cauldrons. In the midst of all this, Slughorn directs traffic with his wand, hurrying here and there to check this process or temper this reaction.]
[Truth be told, Slughorn is running himself raw, between days of gathering up students on the Island and nights of making items and potions to repair the damage they've done to themselves. A very uncharacteristic scowl seems to have landed permanently on his face, and he is constantly mopping at the shine on his increasingly-mottled forehead. In fact, one might almost say he's showing his age...]
Don't even know why I came out of retirement. What am I, a Healer?
[He flicks his wand irritably, sending two completed sleeping draughts and a half-dozen Potions flying into a box.]
[Truth be told, Slughorn is running himself raw, between days of gathering up students on the Island and nights of making items and potions to repair the damage they've done to themselves. A very uncharacteristic scowl seems to have landed permanently on his face, and he is constantly mopping at the shine on his increasingly-mottled forehead. In fact, one might almost say he's showing his age...]
Don't even know why I came out of retirement. What am I, a Healer?
[He flicks his wand irritably, sending two completed sleeping draughts and a half-dozen Potions flying into a box.]
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Merlin's beard! Another cadet in miserable shape thanks to this mission! What have they thrown you against -- marlboros? Cactuars? Dragons?!
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[She trails off, looking uncertain.]
Say, you wouldn't happen to know where this box goes, would ya?
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What's in it?
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[This silence goes on for a long, long, time.]
...You know, that's a really good question. You oughta be a teacher or something.
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[Slughorn's smile is distinctly cold.]
Well, open it up, let's have it.
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[Osaka's self-preservation instinct is limited solely to caution when crossing busy roads, so she doesn't notice. Resting the box on her knee, she fumbles with the lid until it takes pity on her and pops open by itself.]
Oh! Looks like a bunch of plants to me, all dried up. So where do these - whoa! [She barely catches the box before it slips off her lap.] Where do these go, do you know?
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One, two... Oh? [She looks down at the third sprig she just tried to pick up, and tugs at it ineffectually.] Aw, hey, are the rest of these supposed to be all tangled together like this?
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[She gets to work immediately, trying to unhook the tiny dried-up branches from each other without damaging them. The keyword is "trying". After about five minutes, she's succeeded in adding both of the sprigs she originally took out into the mess, which is starting to resemble something from a topologist's nightmare.]
Just hold on one second... I'm nearly there...
[Another minute or so of industrious rustling, she drops the entire tangle on the floor. It bounces once, trailing disintegrating fragments of delicate leaves, and rolls out of sight.]
Aah! Where did it -
[Osaka kneels down, then changes her mind and lies flat on the floor to squint at the gap between the base of the counter and the floor. There, the knotted-up plants sit peacefully just out of her reach, resigned to their place in the universe.]
...Oh.
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Accio.
[The tangled ball zips to his hand; Slughorn immediately recoils in shock, dropping the sprigs onto a counter and shaking his hand as if shocked.]
I -- yes, well, good effort...
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I... I'm awful sorry! I thought I was getting somewhere, I promise I did!
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[He clears his throat, attempting to regain his bearings, then prods at the tangle with his wand.]
Something easier. Bring me a spearmint leaf.
[He gestures idly at his complicated supply trunk.]
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[She ambles over to the trunk with the air of a professional getting ready to wrangle a crocodile.
This time, she works much faster - it's barely a minute before she neatly closes the trunk and heads back over to where Slughorn is. However, her expression of triumph notwithstanding, what she's holding in her hands... isn't a spearmint leaf. In fact, it isn't any kind of leaf.]
This is what you said, right?
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Out of curiosity, is that what leaves look like on your world?
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[...okay, she may not be fascinated with exactly what he might have been hoping she was interested in.]
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[Slughorn makes a game attempt to encourage critical thinking in a student. This won't end well.]
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The broader point remains. You would prefer sardines in your tin. Not human bones of any sort, warned or not.
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The spearmint leaf! Can we make another attempt at getting that, please? I've potions to make!
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