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Potions Laboratory The Potions Laboratory is a place of shadows and simmering light, its stone walls lined with shelves of jars containing dried herbs, curious powders, and various pickled things that float in viscous solutions. The air is thick with a mingling of scents from acrid smoke to sweet herbs to the faint metallic tang of scorched copper. A long central worktable bears the marks of years of brewing, scarred with stains that refuse to vanish despite repeated Scouring Charms ― let's just say it gives the table character. |
Open! Rajan Patil did not run in the Hogwarts corridors. That was undignified. He strode quickly with purpose. Which, at present, was very much the same thing. The door to the Potions laboratory swung open with a sharp creak, and Rajan slipped inside, his robes wisping around his ankles. The familiar scent of brewed roots, burnt sugar, and metallic tang wrapped around him immediately. Cauldrons still cooled from the last class; faint wisps of steam curled lazily upward like ghosts reluctant to leave. "Chintu," he called under his breath, voice low but edged with urgency. "Chintu, come out. This isn't funny." Somewhere, a glass vial ticked as it cooled. A drop of condensation plinked into a basin. Otherwise, silence. Rajan pushed a curl of hair back from his forehead, brown eyes sweeping the room. Under the worktables. Behind the stacked crates of powdered moonstone. Along the shelves where pickled ingredients floated in murky jars, watching him with many-eyed stillness. A faint skitter suddenly sounded. "Chintu," he whispered again, more pleading this time, as he peered beneath the nearest table. "You're a toad, not a Demiguise. Stop causing chaos and come here before someone turns you into a potion ingredient by accident." |
*grabs* Cat was in the dungeons in search of Professor Cox. She’d (most likely) forgotten when the office hours were and figured she’d start her search in the laboratory anyway. It wasn’t an emergency or anything though. She just had a question about making a blemish blitzer. She’d read about it and - being in the throes of puberty - was curious to see if it would, in fact, help with acne. After the beard incident, she wasn’t in the mood to take chances. As she stepped into the laboratory, Cat slowed her pace to take in the room. And what she found was an older boy. Talking to someone. A toad, apparently? That actually made more sense than the alternative, considering the room was otherwise empty. “You lost your toad in a potions laboratory?” she asked, unable to keep the accusatory tone from her words. He’d said it himself - toad parts were a common potions ingredient. Cat almost told him to be more careful, but she stopped herself. She’d get the whole story before judging pet-parenting techniques. |
Rajan straightened immediately at the sound of another voice, shoulders drawing back as though he'd been caught mid-crime rather than mid-crisis. He slid out from beneath the table with as much dignity as one could manage after crawling on a dungeon floor, brushing invisible dust from his robes. His brown eyes flicked to the girl—one he recognized as one of the younger Ravenclaws—and then back to the shadowed corners of the lab. The room suddenly felt smaller with an audience. "He is not lost," Rajan said, his tone clipped. "He is misplaced. There's a difference." Another faint skitter echoed from behind a stack of pewter cauldrons. Rajan's jaw tightened. "And for the record," he added, lowering his voice. He crouched again, peering behind the cauldrons. "He's not an ordinary toad." "Chintu. Come out. Now," he muttered in Hindi under his breath. "Before this becomes an incident neither of us wants to experience." A curl slipped free and fell across his forehead, refusing to be tamed no matter how many times he pushed it back. Only then did he glance back at Cat, expression somewhere between mortified dignity and stubborn determination. "If you're here for Professor Cox," he said, switching back to English, "he's not in at the moment." Probably for the best. Explaining why a toad was presumably roaming free in the Potions laboratory was not a conversation Rajan wished to have with the man. "But if you happen to spot a small harlequin toad... let me know." |
Cat watched Rajan through narrowed eyes as he climbed out from under a table and dusted off his clothes. She would think that dirt seemed to be the least of his worries, but she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she commented on his semantics. “Misplaced.” She repeated. “Where did you place him?” Because it appeared to her (and she was fairly certain she was right, even given the limited information available) that he could not find his toad. Ergo, lost. She moved further into the room as the boy crouched again. She was already too invested and she needed to be able to hear him. She crouched next to him, leaning around the opposite side of the cauldron. Here, toady, toady, toady. She paused, leaning into her leaning as she listened to Rajan speak. She tried to place the language - it was clearly one that she didn’t speak, and her curiosity was immediate and overwhelming. Still, she was able to hold it at bay. And pivot to other curiosities instead (of course). “What is he, if he isn’t an ordinary toad?” She sat back on her heels, looking at him again. His mention of Professor Cox reminded her of why she was here in the first place… but this seemed more interesting. “I was looking for him. But I can help you find your toad first.” Because she was helpful. You’re welcome. “What’s his name?” |
at laaaaaaaaaaaaast ♪ The door shut with a soft deliberate click. He paused just inside the threshold, leaning back against the heavy wooden door and took in the site of two students crouched on the floor peering behind pewter cauldrons and supply crates as though they were on their own little brewing spelunking trip. His sharp hazel gaze moved first to Mr. Patil. Then to Miss Webb. Then to the floor. "So―" he began at last, one brow arching as he crossed a leg at the ankle and tapped the toe of his boot lightly against the stone. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this subterranean exploration?" He pushed off the door, heavy boots echoing softly against the dungeon stone, dark tawny robes billowing behind him as he loomed forward. His eyes flicked toward one of the cabinets housing numerous crystal phials filled with various liquids, and... yes, there had most certainly been some sort of subtle skitter just now. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Or has someone elected to release the leeches again? I have had to return somewhere close to three dozen of them to their proper containers this week alone." Something he was prepared to blame poltergeist interference as the leading theory, but was not so naïve as to rule out academic resentment. His gaze shifted pointedly between them. "Shall I assume this is unrelated," he inquired, arms folding across his chest. The movement drew his sleeves back just enough to reveal a glimpse of the intricate runic patterns inked along his forearm. "Or would either of you care to revise that assumption?" |
One eternity later... Rajan hesitated for half a second at her question. His mouth opened, then closed again. It was, unfortunately, a very fair question. "Okay, okay, I didn't place him," Rajan said finally, trying very hard to keep his tone measured and dignified. "Chintu usually stays in my satchel." Which, he realized belatedly, probably sounded exactly like something someone would say after losing their toad. He reached behind the stack of cauldrons again, nudging one aside slightly and peering into the narrow gap between it and the wall. "He usually behaves much better than this. I suspect," he continued, carefully shifting a crate a few inches, "that he exited the satchel during my walk down here. Can't blame a juvenile harlequin toad for wanting to... explore." Rajan froze at the sudden sound of a certain Potions professor's voice. Slowly, Rajan rose from his crouch. He did so with the controlled composure of someone attempting to salvage what little dignity remained after being discovered crawling around the floor of a Potions laboratory. His mind was racing. Option one: tell the truth. Option two: tell a partial truth. Option three: claim to be conducting an independent investigation into dungeon acoustics. None of them seemed especially promising. Something skittered again, this time on the opposite side of the room. Rajan closed his eyes briefly. Of course. He exhaled through his nose and straightened fully, folding his hands neatly behind his back in what he hoped resembled the posture of a responsible seventh-year rather than a student moments away from disciplinary consequences. "This is," Rajan began carefully, "unrelated to the leeches, professor." Another skitter. He resisted the urge to glance toward it. "My toad appears to have temporarily vacated my person." The phrasing sounded much better than escaped. |
Truthfully, Cat should’ve fully expected Professor Cox to show up. It had, after all, been her entire reason for coming to the laboratory in the first place. Still (somehow), she was surprised when the man walked in. She watched the boy stand up. He seemed a bit stiff, didn’t he? It made her wonder if he was just as She would let him explain himself first. Then she would circle back to the fact that he had not, in fact, answered her questions regarding his not-so-ordinary toad. Cat scrambled to her feet as well, preparing to look completely studious and not at all like she had, say, just tipped over a bunch of ink. Or been crawling around the floor of the potions laboratory, or something. However, all good intentions flew out the window when Rajan attempted to explain what was going on. Cat laughed. Loudly. “Temporarily vacated your person,” she repeated, her tone implying that she thought it was not only ridiculous, but also wrong. She stood up a bit straighter. Too-straight, really. “He misplaced his toad.” He’d said so himself. “I was helping to look for him. But I’m really here because I had a question.” She paused. “For you, I mean, Professor. Like, a potion question.” See? Studious. |
The silence that followed stretched just a fraction too long. Cox's gaze settled on Mr. Patil, unblinking and scrutinizing with the faintest tightening at the corner of his eyes suggesting that yes he had heard every word, and no he was not impressed by the phrasing. Especially when Miss Webb chimed in with her own flowery interpretations. "Let us not," he began, "attempt to negotiate with language." He took another step forward, boots echoing softly, gaze dipping briefly toward the floor before lifting again. "Your toad is loose in my laboratory and it should not be." A slight tilt of his head. "And unless it has developed a sudden and rather macabre desire to be rendered into potion ingredients... it is a situation will need correcting promptly." His attention shifted then to Miss Webb, not unkindly, but with a certain expectation of composure. A faint skitter came from somewhere along the wall and his eyes flicked toward the source immediately ― less toad and more rat, in his opinion. Brilliant. "Fortunately," he continued, already adjusting his trajectory a few steps, "we are perfectly capable of addressing more than one matter at a time." He made a small motion with his fingers to indicate the space around them. "We'll continue the search." There was the faintest exhale of patience worn thin as he slipped off his robes and draped them neatly over the nearest table. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled with practiced efficiency to his elbows, revealing, in brief and deliberate flashes, the runic tattoos that traced the length of his arms. Then, without looking back at the Ravenclaw, "Your question, Miss Webb?" |
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