If you're reading this, much love. Never underestimate the value of a good towel, in any situation.
ENJOI
…
James shucked the invisibilty cloak off his shoulders as he closed the door to his abandoned potions lab. It had been a while since he was able to come back down here, with his hiccup with the mandrakes and everything happening with the Chamber of Secrets. He had, in fact, been hesitant to return for the time being, with the rumors abound about the Chamber, but had decided that with Hermione enlightening him about the Polyjuice potion, he was going to redouble his efforts. The ability to replicate the potion would be...
Euphoric.
With a flick of his wand, he cleared the fine layer of dust settling over his equipment, and settled in for a night of work. Preparing his ingredients, he set about crushing Doxy wings, he idled hummed to himself a Danzig tune. He truly wished he had the capacity to play some music; alas, a Walkman or cassette player wouldn't work on Hogwarts grounds, as magical energy would fizzle any electronics out. He considered, for a moment, if he could create an enchantment or spell that would protect such a device...
Dropping the wings into the water, he lit the burner beneath the cauldron and moved on to humming Motorhead. Lighting a Bunsen burner, he prepared a glass flask and filled it with cool, slightly viscous newt blood. Dropping in a few drops of acid to help stop it from coagulating, he moved on to prepare some shrivelfigs. Peeling the skin to expose the flowers within, he used the side of a large, high bladed knife to smash the purple fluids out. Holding his cutting board up, he drained the purple fluid into the flask with the blood, holding the blossoms against the board with the knife.
Tired of reciting the Ace of Spades, James Dean moved on to "Ba-dum-dumming" Should I Stay or Should I Go. Popping a bicorn horn of of a vial, he set it and a pinch of beetle eyes into a mortar and pestle. Grinding away, he bopped his back and forth while quietly mouthing the lyrics to the song. When satisfied the horn was powdered and integrated with the eyes, James dumped the powder into the cauldron and begun stirring, slowly and consistently.
As he begun swaying to the tune of Brass Monkey, he slowly poured the contents of the flask in, stirring slowly all the while. The mixture took on a lavender hue, as far as James could tell in the dim light. Smiling softly, he turned the heat up slightly, and moved to the edge of the lab, sitting in a corner to nap, and wait for it to bubble appropriately.