 doesn't proofread tweets | #wrongaboutcereal | #siriusly? | emo to the extremo
Three times? Oh whoops. He held out his wand, took another good look at the potion inside of his cauldron, and "Gracilis... Gracilis." There. Two plus one made three. See, even though he wasn't an Arithmancer-um-Arithmancogropher-um-Arithmanciologiest-um-Professor Tanner, he could deal with some numbers. Well, he could do it most of the time. And he was getting pretty okay at Arithmancy too. See young ones, cramming your Fifth Year for a whole five years worth of lessons isn't actually that hard. He was SO going to ace those OWLs. Or erm... O-them.
Anyways.
That was it then wasn't-- EUGH. The Gryffindor wasted no time taking steps back and plugging his nose. This stuff was NASTY. Forget food. Had the earlier stench of the potion not taken away his hunger, then this smell sure did. It was terrible. Horrible. Professor, WHY?
And uh... Diarrhea? Zander couldn't even help but stick out his tongue in disgust. Forget leaving a sample, he was going to leave the entire potion behind for Professor Culloden. Ain't nobody got time to try out foul potions that smell like rotten eggs. Especially not Zander Adair. If there was a practical aspect to the homework, he'd just have to pass this time. Ahem. Heh. No offense.
The Gryffindor wasted no time putting away his things, giving them a quick clean before putting it all away. And then he slipped out of the classroom with no more than a quick look over at his Professor. Potions put him in a weird place today. It was Kevin's favorite class.
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