January 12th, 1982
I've spent nearly two weeks grading mid-year papers for Horace. I'm beginning to wonder if Azkaban might be less painful.
There are very few students who have any sort of talent for potions. Most have no understanding whatsoever of the ingredients. Several of them ought to be banned from cauldrons. There are a few, however, that seem able to grasp the importance of understanding how the ingredients mix. Crushing an ingredient will expedite how fast it incorporates into the mix, for example. Certain potions are more potent when the ingredients incorporate quickly. It leads to less time on the fire and less wasted magic.
But some of these imbeciles think just following the instructions is enough. No! You must learn to read between the lines of the recipe! You must know why the ingredient is sliced before added! How can these fools think that simply following the steps is enough to brew a potion?
Perhaps I should not judge them harshly. They are, after all, children. They are not my peers. Horace understands. He shares my view that many of them ought to be banned from the cauldron. But he shrugs when I suggest he do so and says, "To what end?"
It boggles my mind how he hasn't had any accidents.