Cauldron Melting Mayhem:
This is my first Potions assignment for Professor Helena, hoping to get a good grade...
Summary: Professor Snape had given specific instructions. I don't know how I messed them up! But all the same, regardless of what happened, here I stand, a melted cauldron on my desk, and a very angry potions professor glaring at me from the front of the room. Oops?
I always walked into potions class with confidence. Not today though. Today we were brewing a particularly difficult potion: Felix Felicis. I knew that if I didn't get this absolutely perfect, not only were me and my classmates in danger, but so was my perfect grade. There was no way I could mess this up. I took a deep breath, and walked into the classroom.
There were a few minutes before class started, and Professor Snape had yet to arrive, so I busied myself with taking out all of the necessary equipment that I would need for class. I carefully took out my scales, my gloves, my stirring rods. I pulled my notes out of my backpack and organized them neatly on the desk before studying them vigorously. Moments after I had finished reviewing my notes for the eighth time, Professor Snape walked into the room. The class fell silent, sat up straighter, and waited with bated breath for our instructions to appear on the blackboard at the front of the room.
Professor Snape flicked his wrist, and suddenly immaculate cursive appeared on the board, explicitly detailing the ingredients and preparation required for a perfect potion. I carefully copied them down, underlining especially important stages in the process for emphasis. Then I stood, picked up my list, and walked to the supply closet.
I gathered all of my ingredients, paying close attention to the tiny, slanted writing on the labels. I triple checked, making sure I had all (and only) the ingredients I needed. I sat back down at my desk and lit a fire under my cauldron, cast a charm to show me the temperature, and satisfied at the heat of the fire, began to make my potion.
I was doing well, following instructions to the letter, measuring exactly. My potion was the right color and consistency. And then suddenly, it wasn't. It was a sludgy black, and it was smoking profusely. Alarms were going off, alerting the Professor that something was wrong. He stalked over to my desk as I frantically attempted to salvage my work. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" I whispered, panicking as the potion began to get thicker and thicker, and hotter and hotter. "This cannot be happening!" I groaned, watching the metal of my cauldron liquefy and bubble until it just gave up, spilling hot potion all over the floor, my notes and my bag, ruining all of my potions supplies and my notes from every class I had that day. I was crying. My potion was a failure, my cauldron was melted, and I had no idea why. I looked up at a glaring Professor Snape with red-rimmed eyes, shame settled in the pit of my stomach.
He cleared his throat and sneered at me condescendingly. "Ms. Wilde, can you tell me why, your cauldron is fused to your desk?" "No sir," I replied despondently. "Surely there has to be a reason. A properly brewed potion does not just go and melt a cauldron for no reason. Detention, Ms. Wilde, 8 o'clock tonight, for incompetence." I nodded sadly, "Yes sir, I understand." "Good," he replied, "Now clean this up, no magic." I nodded again. "Yes sir."