Sanare
Potions.
The second class Ophelia attended. She had heard students say that the Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape, was cruel and mean to everyone except the Slytherins.
How could they just judge people by their actions? Ophelia sliced the daisy roots daintily but swiftly and dropped them into the simmering cauldron. Hidden pain can be covered up by cold acts. I wonder if this is the case...
Ophelia didn't mind Professor Snape at all. He wasn't that bad. She could faintly hear him scolding Longbottom. She couldn't say that Snape's scolding was that bad, Longbottom's potions were indeed so bad that there weren't any possible words to properly describe. Hideous was an understatement.
Though Ophelia had to admit that Snape was sometimes a bit to cruel to some of the others, such as Potter. Surely his potions were at least adequate if he passed.
Ophelia hadn't opened her mouth to talk or laugh out loud after The incident in Transfiguration. She was too afraid of her voice. Slytherins laughed at her saying that she was evil and a "slut" because she had everyone beside her dazed after she did the "Lapifors" spell out loud.
The whispering about her continued.
"She's so pretty.."
"Do you think she's really evil?"
"Ron! Don't say that."
"Her potion skills are fluent."
Ophelia hadn't noticed that everyone had paused their work just to stare at her. She continued to dice the hairy caterpillars, skinning the wormwood and stirring the potion, oblivious to the audience she had.
"Get. Back. To. Work." Professor Snape's voice hissed out dangerously, resonating through the cold and damp dungeon room.
Ophelia stirred her bright green potion, making sure that it was potent. A vial silently rose from Ophelia's bag, uncorking itself and levitated itself safely beside the cauldron, the cork standing still net to it. She sedulously ladled the Shrinking Solution into the vial, corking it tightly and raised her hand.
"What, Miss Ophelia?" Professor Snape snarled.
I finished the Shrinking Solution, sir. A ribbon shot from Ophelia's wand and twisted itself around in midair.
Snape strode over, peering at the vial Ophelia's outstretched arm was clutching. He took it, uncorked it, sniffed, then corked it again.
"Flawless. 20 points-" Snape looked at Ophelia's black and yellow tie, and paused, as if contemplating of he should add points to a Hufflepuff. He seemed to be repulsed by her house, but added it anyway, "to Hufflepuff."
Snape gritted the last bit out through clenched teeth.
Whispered exploded.
"Silence." Professor Snape sneered. "While Miss Ophelia has finished her potion, you dunderheads have not. 50 points from Gryffindor, Finnegan!"
Seamus Finnegan's potion had exploded.
Was that normal? The other Gryffindors didn't even bat an eye at the melting cauldron.
Ophelia, who was now looking around the room, noticed that she was the only Hufflepuff in the room. They were all Gryffindors and Slytherins.
"Miss Ophelia. I expect you after class."
Ophelia nodded. Was I in trouble?
As soon as the last students shuffled out 30 minutes later, Ophelia glided to Professor Snape's desk.
"I noticed that you brewed the Shrinking Solution without mistakes." Snape commented idly, his eyes darting left to right on an essay. He set down his quill and waved his wand, clearing the cauldrons and benches. "Make the Draught of Living Death now."
He wanted me to brew a sixth-year potion. Wonderful. Ophelia got to work. Her potions book lay open beside the cauldron, and she raised her wand into the air, summoning all her ingredients. They lay neatly on the bench, and Ophelia got to work.
She crushed the Sopophorous bean with a silver dagger, poured in 250 fl.oz. of its juice and added 5 oz. of to the beaker. She set the beaker aside after all the water has been added. Then, she set the water and salt to rest for five minutes. Ophelia timidly poured all the water into the cauldron. She held the graduated cylinder with her left hand to obtain 40 fl.oz. of essence of wormwood, and held the cauldron at a slight angle with her right and poured ten drops of essence of wormwood.
Ophelia followed the textbook she had, which was full of scribbles. Of course, she had edited the recipe as she worked. It was common sense that crushing something could make the ingredient ooze more juice, right?
Her potion now resembled a smooth blackcurrant-coloured liquid. God, now I want to eat blackcurrants. Ophelia carefully poured the Sopophorous bean juice into the cauldron, and added seven drops of the reduced liquid from the beaker; making sure there were no traces or fragments of Valerian root.
Ophelia stirred the potion seven times clockwise; and it turned a light shade of lilac, but not quite accurate. She stared absentmindedly at the cauldron. Hm...Let's try to stir it counterclockwise once before I do the rest?
It turned the exact same shade of lilac required. She quickly noted it down on her book.
With her right hand she stirred the potion counterclockwise until the potion turned as clear as water. It stated that every stir should take approximately two and a half seconds, but Ophelia didn't care. She stirred slowly, taking her time. Then she slowly put in seven square pieces of Valerian root. She stirred the potion ten times counterclockwise, and added one hundred and fifty fl.oz. of powdered asphodel root. She held the cauldron with her right hand; and with her free left hand Ophelia gently stirred the potion ten times counterclockwise and eight times clockwise. She left the potion to settle for two and a half minutes, and added one small piece of Valerian root .
Ophelia's potion was pale pink.
She reached for her wand to write in the air, but paused.
What if I spoke?
No, he would guess it. He would know I wasn't human. Best not to speak out loud.
He's a Legilimens. Wait, how did I know that?
Ophelia sighed, and took out her wand.
Professor Snape, I've finished.
Snape came and stood behind Ophelia, his warm breath tickling her neck as he peered into the bubbling cauldron.
"Flawless again." Professor Snape commented.
Thank you, Professor.
"Do you like brewing Potions?"
Yes, it's my favourite subject here at Hogwarts, sir.
"Would you like to be my apprentice?"
What? Ophelia was dumbfounded. She had arrived at Hogwarts with knowledge she didn't even know for less than a week, and she was already asked to be an apprentice.
"Be my apprentice. You will be learning from me, and assisting me with classes."
I never heard that you took apprentices.
"I didn't. You have potential, so I now do. Consider my offer."
I will be your apprentice, Professor Snape, Ophelia drew out after mulling the offer for a minute or so. I do want to learn more on Potions. Thank you so much.
"Every day starting tomorrow, 8pm to 10pm at my office. Do not be late." With that, Professor Snape dismissed Ophelia.
See you tomorrow. Ophelia left.
Why does my heart hurt? She wondered as she wandered the corridors back to her designated place. Why do I feel fluttering in my stomach?
Is there something wrong with me?
Oh.
My soul.
It's split apart.
Ophelia knew.
But how to fix this?
Where's my other half?
-
Aquila woke the next day with a slight chest pain. No, it wasn't her lungs, nor her heart. Her health was perfectly fine. It was herself, her person. It felt as if her soul had been split apart.
Or was it really?
I need to find a way to shift.
I have to.
Soon...or I die.
Aquila was withering away.
Days passed, she continued her routine which consisted of the following:
Wake up. Eat. Work. Eat. Shift. Sleep.
Was it just fate, or destiny that caused Aquila to continuously get disrupted during her shifting?
The night after her soul split, she had gone to the stage where she was chasing the character using the Alice in the Wonderland shifting method, and thunder rang.
On her next try, her phone rang from work. Someone slamming a door shut. Rain falling. Microwave beeping. Everything seemed to be against Aquila's shifting. She could never focus. She ate less. She was losing hope. Losing Severus. Losing her soul. Losing Herself.
Nobody noticed the change in her.
Aquila grew skinnier, dark circles under her eyes, which were covered by makeup. Her soul hurt. Simply thinking of it made migraines come on.
Aquila sighed.
She couldn't just die.
Even if she wanted to, she needed to retrieve her soul first.
-
Severus was confused.
Very, bloody confused.
He felt this strange yearning for that girl, Miss Ophelia.
Who was she? Why did she have no last name?
What is she hiding?
Is she really mute? Or she's not human at all. Severus grumbled inwardly as he started marking essays.
His thoughts never deviated from Ophelia.
Fuck, Severus, get a grip on yourself. He scolded himself as he thought of Ophelia's pretty blue eyes. She's a bloody student.
Then, he felt it.
A slight chest pain.
No, it wasn't really his chest.
It's his soul.
-
Why do our souls hurt? They thought.