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sweetpinkpixie · #1 (**permalink**) 09-08-2025, 11:38 AM

Behind a heavy oaken door lies the Potions Storeroom, a circular chamber lined floor-to-ceiling with shelves of jars, bottles, and canisters in every imaginable shade and shape. Pickled organs float languidly in brine-filled glass, dried herbs hang in neatly labeled bundles, and rows of crystalline powders catch the torchlight like dull gemstones. The room itself is enchanted with subtle wards of temperature and humidity control, ensuring that even the most delicate of materials remain stable.

A carved wooden cabinet against the far wall holds restricted ingredients under lock and ward. A broad round worktable is position in the center of the room, scattered with ledgers, scales, mortals and pestles ready for use. Carved into the stone floor is a trapdoor with iron fittings leading down into the Cold Storage Cellar, a chamber is a magically chilled vault for the more volatile and perishable stock: dragon livers wrapped in frost-charmed linen, mandrake root suspended in preserving solution, and flasks of other ingredients too dangerous or too unstable for the open shelves. Few students are ever permitted below unsupervised, which only adds to the gossip abound about what else Professor Cox might keep secured in the frozen dark.

sweetpinkpixie · 10-24-2025, 05:56 AM

Detentions and disciplinary measures were nothing foreign to him. In fact, he had somehow earned himself a reputation for enjoying them...which was a misconception he found both irritating and amusing. There were a plethora of ways he would rather spend his time and even something as torturous as an evening with a well-worn book of poetry ranked much MUCH higher than presiding over a student’s consequence. But necessity rarely bowed to preference. Detention served a purpose. One that, in Potions and Alchemy in particular, was not merely bureaucratic but practical. Potions in their very nature were volatile and a lapse in judgment or focus could mean more than a scorched table or a lost set of eyebrows. He would rather a student learn humility over a ledger and sorting tray than through the explosions and toxic byproduct. So, he came down hard in principle. Better to be unpopular than irresponsible. Better to instill caution (even resentment) than to feign leniency and watch it blossom into carelessness.

Though how far too often the lessons worth learning demanded repetition... and how rarely they were truly understood the first time.

Waiting, he leaned his hip against the door with two pairs of dragonhide gloves in hand and a narrow ledger with a self-inking quill tucked into its spine tucked under his arm. He had suggested to the pair that they wear a set of school robes perhaps a little less crisp and polished than others if they had them - just in case - but otherwise they were to show up empty handed. His gaze flicked briefly down the corridor where Mr. Grunt and Miss Montmorency would eventually appear before settling on the dragonhide gloves in his hands. There was a fair chance they would fit neither student properly. Still, these particular gloves had been baptized by fire more than once and had earned every scuff and scar. Best they not risk their parents’ hard-earned galleons on damage sustained in detention — these borrowed ones would do perfectly well.

FearlessLeader19 · 10-27-2025, 11:38 PM

It was the first time Idris had ever remotely gotten into trouble. Not even his excessive {and sometimes dangerous and obsessive} love for cats, kneazles and kneazle cats had gotten him into any such thing. But the Gryffindor was not at all put off at the prospect of it! No, Sir! In fact, he was looking at this as another adventure, one which he was eager to see how it would play out.

So, after pecking Paully on the cheek and giving Nesquik a squish, Id made his way to the Potions Storeroom dressed in the required attire. He usually kept old robes for the purpose of practical Herbology lessons. This one was short for his lanky frame so one could see his white trainers quite clearly. There was a spring in his steps; it couldn’t be helped. Not many things kept his happiness and energy levels down for an extended time. However, as he approached the storeroom, he attempted to tone down the bounciness. “Hello, Professor!”

And because Idris was Idris…

Bounce.

Yes, that was a bounce on the soles of his feet.

*PhoenixRising* · 10-28-2025, 10:27 PM

She was not careless and irresponsible. At least Emma liked to think she was always a sensible one, the eighteen year old having gone through 6.5 years of Hogwarts without detention and now ... just months before graduation, she finds herself in trouble. For entirely preventable reasons too. It wasn't her fault that potions wasn't her forte. If she didn't land a spot on a professional quidditch league, she highly doubted she would be pursuing anything related to potions or alchemy. And ancient runes? Well, other than this year when it was taught by the same professor as the Potions Master, she hadn't ever intended to take the elective. Much to her father's disappointment.

Her uniform was one from three years ago and ill-fitting, but having seeing the note from Professor Cox on wearing older uniforms, Emma didn't want to take chances by wearing her newer uniforms. Even if she wouldn't be using them again after June.

"Hello Professor Cox," she greeted, despite detention, her normal cheerful personality was not one to be dimmed. She nodded over at Idris as well, not sure if she was meant to converse with him. While normally she might have, somehow speaking to fellow 'delinquents', felt like it might be more of a crime.

sweetpinkpixie · 11-09-2025, 07:47 AM

"Mr. Grunt. Miss Montmorency."

The greeting was curt but not menacing - at least not intentionally. His voice did carrying the same eerie detached calm that seemed to permeate every corridor he allegedly haunted. His eyes flicked briefly to the Gryffindor - specifically to the bounce - and one brow arched in faint disbelief. It implied a certain lack of understanding and remorse, but he would do what must be done to refrain from judgement. "I see you’ve brought... energy. Let’s see if it can be applied constructively."

He shifted the ledger beneath his arm and handed over the gloves, one pair to each of them. "You’ll find these a touch ill-fitted, I imagine. Best make do as they’ve survived far worse than we’ll be attempting tonight." It was not meant to be humorous, though there might have been a trace of it scratching at the edges of the statement. Pivoting slightly, he turned the handle and opened the door to the Potions storeroom - air thick with the putrid scent of damp herbs, sulfur, and undercurrent of something metallic greeting them. A few of the floating lanterns of bluebell flames flickered reluctantly to life, casting their soft light across a long central table covered in covered jars, sealed phials, and trays of ingredients in varying states of decay.

The source of the stench revealed, at last.

"Inside, please," he gestured, his other hand snapping its fingers and performing a series of dexterous gymnastics to levitate the ledger and quill neatly at the end of the table. "You see the aftermath of a several month's worth of overconfidence, poor handwriting, and less than lackluster judgment of the past. Some of these have spoiled, some can be salvaged, and some, if handled carelessly, can cause very real harm. Tonight’s task is ingredient reclamation and you'll be doing so by placing each ingredient on to one of three trays on the table marked Salvageable, Neutralize, and Dispose." His gaze settled briefly on each of them before having his final point land. "You will do so without the use of a wand."

He held the door open a bit more for the two to enter. "Fret not, you'll get acclimated to the smell soon enough."

And if there were any questions, now would be the time to ask them.

FearlessLeader19 · 11-11-2025, 12:20 AM

And there was Emma. Id returned her greeting with a brilliant smile before turning his full attention back on Cox. He certainly did not think the greeting was menacing, but then again, this was the same guy who never noticed that Paul had constantly been rude to him earlier in their friendship. “Lots of energy,’’ the fifth year replied honestly. Because the only time this wasn’t his demeanour was that one time his boyfriend has found a way to crush his spirit. This was only just Cox’s first year here as a professor so the man still had a lot to learn about Idris Ace Grunt.

The young man accepted the gloves with a murmur of thanks, and while dragging them on, rather than being put off by Cox’s comments, was quite interested in whatever had been planned. Even when that stench wafted up his nostrils. He winced violently, the sulphur in particular, burning his nose. Thank Merlin his hair was at least safe from the fumes under the bonnet he was currently using. Idris adjusted the gloves, which were slack on his hands, as he peered at the now lit room.

Yuck. What a sight!

Idris stepped into the room, his nostrils still burning but slowly adjusting to the odor. Okay, so basically he and Emma would be sorting ingredients. That wasn’t bad but could he withstand the odor throughout? “Understood, professor.” He hadn’t brought along his wand so there wasn’t any chance of him using magic. It wasn’t as though he were capable of Wandless Magic like his Dad D.

*PhoenixRising* · 11-22-2025, 04:11 AM

If she hadn't grown accustomed to the tone over the last few months, she might have thought it to be menacing, but Emma was nothing if not adaptable. Also, re: cheery and always seeing the silver lining was literally part of her persona. Although she herself lacked a filter sometimes, seeing and hearing it from others made her want to go and give Idris a pinch and tell him to quiet. She was terribly at reading the room generally, but she was pretty sure that Professor Cox intended for them to minimize their energy levels.

Taking the gloves, she wrinkled her nose. No fashionista, but these definitely did NOT match her style and probably definitely too large. However, she was grateful nonetheless for the protection and offered a "Thank you," if the tone read sarcastic, that's probably because there may have been underlying sarcasm in there. But she didn't have too long to dwell on the fashion mishap, as the moment the storeroom door opened, she found herself pinching her nostrils to attempt to prevent the stench from entering. A mask might have been more useful.

She tried her hardest to focus on Cox's words, salvage.... neutralize... dispose ... except the stench permeating made it difficult. She doubted she'd acclimate to the smell and she grew up with two older brothers. The task itself seemed manageable, tedious but not too challenging. Time-consuming.

"Can we maybe get a bubble head charm? Also, are we allowed to talk?" she glanced between Idris and the Professor. No magic was doable, maybe even easier, but no talking for however long the detention lasted? That might kill her.

sweetpinkpixie · 11-22-2025, 09:17 AM

Professor Cox regarded the pair with a level expression, though Mr. Grunt's buoyant greeting and Miss Montmorency's valiant attempt to maintain some shred of dignity beneath the oversized dragonhide gloves drew the faintest suggestion of an amused glint in his eyes. It was subtle - buried beneath the mild frustration that neither student seemed fully aware of the seriousness of their circumstances - but present nonetheless, a small concession to the fact that youthful optimism was not, in itself, a crime.

He gestured them further into the storeroom, stepping aside so they could take in the full olfactory assault. "The smell," he explained blandly, "is normal for the circumstances. If either of you cannot endure it for an hour, I advise you begin reconsidering any future that involves practical magic." He offered the Hufflepuff a single unimpressed glance. "No to he Bubblehead Charm but yes to the speaking. Ideally only when it contributes to the task."

His gaze skimmed over a jar of separated mucus - something absolutely should not ever happen - and then swept a practiced eye over the remaining specimens, mentally cataloguing the chaos the two would soon be sorting into order. Some items were far too brittle, clinging stubbornly to their final shreds of structure when they should have softened long ago. Others had gone in the opposite direction and were over ripened, swollen, or beginning to leech color. A few had clearly spent too long near heat or light, their once-distinct textures warped beyond reliable use, while a handful were simply… inert, having surrendered all potency in a manner that even a first year ought to recognize on sight. And then there were the truly unfortunate ones, the samples whose smell alone announced that they had crossed from 'salvageable' to 'no-choice-but-to-dispose'.

"If there are no other questions, let's properly started" he nodded, summoning the ledger closer along with its quill. "This quill will record what you command it to so you need not worry about dirting anything with your gloves or waste time slipping gloves on and off to write. Correctly identifying the condition of ingredients is an essential skill, even for those who would perhaps rather be flying or ... bouncing." He cleared his throat. "I will be closeby, also Bubblehead-less, to observe and step in only if it becomes absolutely necessary."

Quote:

Originally Posted by ingredients needing attention

Box of Alihotsy
The edges of the leaves are curled and torn, their green more olive and red looking black.

Box of Chizpurfle Carapace
Flakes at the edges and very brittle to the touch with faint static crackles all around.

Box of Doxy Wings
Will crumble at a touch, their surfaces dulled to lifeless gray and lack an semblance of sheen.

Jar of Flobberworm Mucus
It has separated into unsettling layers, each one wobbling independently

Jar of Gillyweed
Cool and pliant, seeming to twitch faintly and leaks a clear gooey liquid.

Box of Jobberknoll Feathers
Each feather glimmers softly as it catches the light, though oddly weighted in its patient stillness.

Box of Knotgrass Sprigs
The sprigs lie in a loose tangle, their green stems curling without much risk of breaking - though there are some tips that are too dry and brittle.

Several Phials of Leech Juice
The liquid moves sluggishly, thick and dark, with a metallic scent that clings to the air.

Jar of Powdered Bicorn Horn
The powder glints with an iridescent sheen despite forming damp clumps.

Jar of Shrivelfig Flesh
The flesh feels a little too firm in the hand but with clear sap beads along its surface like fruity perspiration.

OOC: There are at least two and no more than four ingredients that belong in each category - Salvageable, Neutralize, and Dispose. The above are the vaguest hints to get you started and further guidance will be provided IC as necessary.

FearlessLeader19 · 11-30-2025, 02:28 PM

Cox didn’t have to worry: Id was aware of how serious things were. As always, he was simply trying to make the best of what he was faced with presently. He was also sure he would adjust to the stench, painstakingly slowly but surely, nevertheless. But maybe he would keep the chatter to a minimum in the event that his stomach disagreed with him adjusting, and instead wanted to hurl his digesting food up. UGH! How unfortunate that would be, the stench of barf mixing with the sort that was already floating around in here.

The quill, however, was quite handy dandy; it reminded him somewhat of Quick Quote Quills. Just… as long as this one recorded what he told it to and not go rogue, Id was happy. As for identifying the conditions of ingredients being a skill, the Gryffindor could not agree more. It didn’t need to be Potion ingredients necessarily; cooking ingredients were also important, after all. Right on cue of Cox mentioning the word, Idris gave an extra springy bounce. It was an indication he was ready to get started. The sooner he and Emma were done, the better.

There was a wiggle of gloved fingers. “Thank you for explaining, professor! Hopefully we won't need to bother you.” Which would leave Cox to freely observe him and Emma, or do whatever else he needed to do. Grade some homework, for example. The fifth year got to work, twitching his nose like a mouse sniffing for its next morsel of food. He reached for the jar of Flobberworm Mucus. “A thickening agent,’’ came his mutter to himself as the contents of the jar was observed. “Used in the Wiggenweld Potion and Sleeping Draught. Oh yeah, and the Cure for Boils.”

Now, based on his knowledge and first hand experience with this particular type of mucus, what was housed in this jar was not what healthy Flobberworm Mucus should look like: green, slimy and sticky. Forget the stench of the room, just looking at it twisted an ugly knot in Idris’ stomach. “We need to dispose of this, Friend Quill.” The remark was made with great certainty. Using that mucus is one way to poison someone. Id set the jar aside before turning to another ingredient.

*PhoenixRising* · 12-01-2025, 10:43 PM

Okay so it was a no to the bubble head charm. Emma would just have to deal, and hopefully she would adapt to the odors soon enough. Perhaps if she exploited her Hufflepuff diligence then the tasks would be completed quicker. And they had a quill to help them in the sorting; she did wonder what would happen if she told the quill the wrong thing? She cracked a small smile though at Cox who seemed to know her and Idris all to well; she would most definitely rather be flying and catching snitches. How times had changed in just four years of playing quidditch.

When Id declared to dispose of the flobberworm mucous, Emma set her sights on another ingredient. "Alihotsy... known to cause uncontrollable laughter," she mutter aloud. "I'm going to go with salvageable," she squinted at the leaves and hoped it was right. How would they know if they guessed correctly?

"As far as the Chizpurfle Carapace, used as an antidote to poisons, perhaps neutralize to this one."

sweetpinkpixie · 12-02-2025, 06:30 AM

The quill perked up immediately, happily etching instructions with all the enthusiasm of a cruppy told it was a very good boy. Being called friend only heightened its delight and its little metal tip practically wiggled. Professor Cox resisted the urge to roll his eyes - that particular quill had always been the overeager one of the set. Surely if it had a tail ink would absolutely be splattered across half the storeroom... and he had had more than enough dealings with ink this term.

He continued to observed the pair in silence, arms folded as he leaned back against the wall. The moment salvageable was applied to a plant sporting blackened edges, however, his expression flattened to a perfect unimpressed line - this was roughly the equivalent of calling a rotten apple 'just a little bruised'. The quill also gave a tiny incredulous twitch before dutifully dotting the page with the category it had been given...though there was noticeably an almost puddle of ink along the 'S' thanks to it hesitating, but then resumed its chipper scratching because orders were orders and it was positively delighted to perform its calligraphic dance for 'neutralize'.

Quote:

Originally Posted by PROGRESS

Box of Alihotsy

Box of Chizpurfle Carapace
Box of Doxy Wings

Jar of Flobberworm Mucus
Jar of Gillyweed
Box of Jobberknoll Feathers
Box of Knotgrass Sprigs
Several Phials of Leech Juice
Jar of Powdered Bicorn Horn
Jar of Shrivelfig Flesh

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