ELIXIR: A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

Twenty Seven. Wolfsbane.

Caiti had been given special permission to leave muggle studies, her final class of the day, twenty minutes early, so that she could head down to the dungeon and start work on the wolfsbane potion. All day, she had dreaded the moment she would have to begin. She was terrified of so many things: of messing up the recipe, of giving it to Marlowe, of how she would feel that night, worrying about him, of how he would act the next morning.

All through her lesson, she ignored Bill's attempts to joke with her as usual and stared at the clock at the front of the room. She watched seconds tick by until the minute hand showed twenty till and, very quietly, she began to pack up her things.

"What are you doing?" Bill hissed. Caiti just shook her head and put a finger to her lips. She stood and tiptoed to the door, sending a small nod and a mouthed "thank you" to her professor, and then she stepped out the door. Every eye in the class was on her as she left.

All the way to the dungeons, she was fidgety and restless. The butterflies that had been messing with her stomach all day were back full force, and her heart, which had been pounding on and off whenever she thought about that night, had just sped up again. She couldn't stop wringing out her hands and tugging at the chain of her necklace, just for something to do.

Either too soon or not soon enough - Caiti could not decide which - she had arrived outside Professor Pym's office. She let herself in as they had discussed; class was still in session for another seven or eight minutes. Her cauldron sat in the corner, right where she'd left it, empty and dust-free.

She allowed herself thirty seconds of pure terror.

Thirty seconds turned into ten minutes. When Professor Pym entered, Caiti was still standing by the door, biting her lower lip and staring at the empty cauldron. She put a hand on Caiti's shoulder and asked, "Would you like some tea?"

Caiti hesitated and then she nodded slowly. Professor Pym led Caiti over to her usual chair and she sat down. A few moments later, she handed Caiti a teacup and saucer and poured out the tea, pale yellow with a soothing herbal aroma. Caiti lifted it and took a sip. It was warm and comforting.

"There's more to this than skill, isn't there?" said Pym in a low voice from across the desk. Caiti nodded again. She took another sip of tea. 

Professor Pym didn't say anything else. Her way was very subtle, very few words, only suggestions towards what she wanted her students to understand, but it was effective. She had a knack for saying just the right thing, just enough. Caiti stood again and began to gather the ingredients she needed. She was completely silent as she placed them all on the work surface and sat down again to begin preparing them. She worked more slowly than usual in these early steps, meticulously.

When she was finished, she took another sip of her tea. It was beginning to go cold now, but it helped her procrastinate a few seconds longer. Finally, she took out her wand, pointed it at the cauldron and said "Aguamenti." She lit the flame underneath, and she began to work. With the first ingredient in the water, Caiti calmed down at once. Her work was all that mattered: neat and orderly and precise. She thought of nothing else.

---

Immediately after classes ended, Marlowe stalked up to his room and laid himself flat down on his bed. He glared up at the deep blue hangings above his four poster. His mind was completely blank. He did not move for an hour and a half, not until he heard a soft knock on the door, two quick, a short pause, and then a third strike. "Marlowe?" said a voice.

Caiti. He shut his eyes and sighed out his nose. He could not talk to her right now.

The door opened a crack and through his peripheral vision he was able to see half her face peeking inside.