DESKS
Breakfast was rather uneventful, then Evangeline’s classes were as well. An endless drone of new professors who explained the course outline, rambled about themselves a bit, then got to business on the same old same old.
It made sense to start like this, there were hundreds of muggle-borns or muggle-raised. Starting at the basics was good. These people had never seen magic before, Evangeline could even argue that they started earlier, giving them a better foundation before all of this was rapidly thrown at them. But Merlin, was it boring. For most magical raised folk, much of the first year History of Magic was just common knowledge. And charms class seemed to be charms she had seen everyone older than her perform nearly a thousand times. And, due to her place in society, Evangeline’s parents had been well capable of getting her a decent enough tutor to make her capable of some wandwork before she entered Hogwarts.
Of course, that had largely been due to necessity. Dox children were prone to cases accidental magic. It’s part of the reason they got their wands so early: the wood picked from the orchard at infancy, the core at age 5. Having an outlet helped to redirect all of that strange energy. It was helped along with various trinkets as well as genuine novelties. The small pendant Evangeline wore around her neck for instance - given enchantments promising to protect and guide, feeding and filtering her magic. Though, she wore Theodore’s instead of her own (who wore hers’ in kind). It was Dox tradition to give them to someone you care about and after Theodore’s accident she had forced him to take her own. Some said if you had a strong enough bond with the other person it allowed you to communicate over large distances or feel one another’s emotions. Most dismissed such things, but Evangeline personally thought they could work. The Dox family had been mixed up in all sorts of things over the years: from wandmaking, to rune writing, to artifact making, to magical beasts. It didn’t seem unlikely that something like this could have been made. But all she felt was boredom, which she took to mean that Theodore was bored too.
For the next few weeks all she could do was sit through lectures. And she kept up with the homework for a while too. Decent marks. She did try, at the start there, but her papers had never been up to par. And, while she knew the motions for the charms work and had tried them thousands of times before with her own private tutors, she never seemed to have the right finesse to truly master any of them. And so it came, that while she could make a feather fly without much thought, it was shaky and a few inches high at best. Transfiguration was a doozy, there she did learn that the witch in emerald green and a tight bun was named Professor McGonagall. Who was, by far, the best teacher it seemed the school had. But she was quite incapable of curing Evangeline of her distaste for the subject. It seemed anything she created went horribly wrong - but often scored at least a few points.
Evangeline stopped going to History of Magic within the first week, nicking the assignment descriptions from her housemates and looking at a few books on the subject in question. Books were practically the same as a ghost teaching history and could do so at twice the speed. She did have to hope that no one ever decided to fine her house points on it though. Astronomy was interesting, enough so that her full energy was zapped into it, her measurements and estimations done with care and precision. That was about the only class the others were willing to approach for help on - with hopes that she had actually done what was required. And when she needed help, her only real option was Malfoy, who’s observations were always especially keen.
Potions and Herbology. That’s where Evangeline’s interests lie. There she quickly found a friend in Neville Longbottom, whom she had met a few times previously and had now been sorted into Gryffindor. He was a genius with the plants, even if he was timid about it. And sitting next to him in herbology always seemed to spark an interesting conversation. The plants themselves were interesting as well and understanding each plant’s properties allowed her to see how they would fit in with potion making (of which Evangeline had more than a particular interest). She did well in Professor Sprout’s class, but she couldn’t always be trusted to be doing exactly what she was supposed to be. Her interest wavered to what wouldn’t quite be considered the assigned material from time to time.
Evangeline had always been good at potions. Even when she helped her mother with a simple healing draught when she was young. It was her knack. Something she was good at - not effortlessly as so many seemed to believe - but because it had taken her mind, body, and soul. That being said, her investiture in potions was immediately squashed by Professor Snape’s long drawl, oily hair, and keenness to bully students less than half his age. She had heard from Neville his particular ability to make students fear him a bit before she had actually taken his class. And it had immediately set her against him.
Soon, she was proven right in this, as Snape took a look at her ‘cure for boils’, which had worked ‘too well’ and instantly took away 10 points. When asked how exactly she had ‘cheated’ to make it so, Evangeline had told him that she added an extra quarter of a horned slug, an answer that was treated with outrage and another abduction of points (this time 5). Snape had seemed rather affronted by it, as if he had personally made the potion. Which, while he hadn’t invented it he certainly hadn’t followed the required reading’s recipe exactly. One would think that would make him more accepting of customization. At least it hadn’t turned out like Neville’s mishap, with a melted cauldron and boils all over him. Evangeline had had to resist a laugh when he had told her, but while the situation was a bit comical it definitely had to have hurt. She stuck to Snape’s ideas after that and usually got begrudging full marks that slowly seemed to melt into genuine appreciation. She was heckled less after the first month, with her swift work of the antidote to common poisons treated with more respect than contempt. Though there was still contempt.
Her housemates were all fine, Turpin becoming more particular friends with Brocklehurst than it seemed either of them would have guessed and Patil and Evangeline often helping each other study with what they could (or did). Patil was a much better student than Evangeline herself - giving each assignment the respect it deserved.
This is how the two months of school followed, the holidays slowly drawing near. And this is how Evangeline came to be on the floor of her dorm, pewter cauldron in front of her and black book in her hand the day before Halloween. A particularly pungent smell emanated from the boiling liquid in front of her, accompanied by a concerning green smoke. Patil sat on her own bed, completing some homework assignment or another.
“It supposed to smell like that?” Patil asked, wearily eying the cauldron. Evangeline scratched her head, clearing her throat.
“No.”
“Should I be concerned about some harmful effects then?” she continued, leaning her body away from the smoke to no avail.
“Mmm.. not… sure…” Evangeline drawled, slowly fumbling for the lid to her cauldron she had placed… somewhere. Patil, taking that as a sign, ran to open the window that separated their two beds, letting in the slowly chilling air and afternoon sun.
“Not sure if green smoke coming out of our dorm is the most non-suspicious thing,” Evangeline warned as Patil sat back down on her bed, seemingly content that the possibility of her getting poisoned by some potion gone wrong was now gone with the window open.
“Is what you’re doing suspicious?” she said, not looking up from the homework she had just returned to.
“No.”
“Then there’s no need to worry.”
Evangeline eyed her, but her glare went unnoticed as Patil dove more deeply into her homework, so she turned her attention back to the smoke. She was brewing a version of burning bitterroot balm. It had been supposed to turn a shade of deep blue and give off a light puff of mist when it had been heated to the correct temperature. Instead it bubbled strangely and gave off noxious fumes.
It wasn’t entirely unexpected, she had tampered with the recipe to the lengths of which she had not done before. But it was still a bit of a let down. She guessed that the unfortunate circumstance that lay in front of her had likely been the result of too much dittany, which did produce green smoke when used. And the ratio with the bitterroot must not have been correct. As bitterroot was applifying the dittany but also aiding in the creation of a paste rather than… slop.
Evangeline stirred the mixture once, feeling the texture as she did. It was thick, for a potion. Undrinkable. But it was also a bit too runny for a paste. It seemed unlikely that all the ingredients had reacted to form anything truly harmful. But then again, one really didn’t want to test dubious potions like that. It almost never turned out well for the user.
Ah, but almost is the key word. Some had found breakthroughs!
Evangeline slapped the potion on a small papercut she had gotten a few hours before.
Patil, apparently having been watching subtly out of the corner of her eye gasped in horror, clapping her hand over her mouth and dropping her quill.
“Bloody hell Dox! What did you just do?”
Evangeline shrugged, watching her finger. It didn’t hurt anymore, that much was clear, it had been an annoyance for as long as she had it. She’d have to watch it some more to make sure it worked without any ill effects. She herself couldn’t be sure if it worked well. She had no chronic injury that would dull out the consistent pain relief she hoped the balm would give the user. And the healing she wanted, amplified but stretched over a consistent time period, would only be slightly visible with a simple papercut. She didn’t fancy injuring heavily for a potion that might not work. That could get her in some danger quickly.
Patil was still staring at her.
“Well I had to test it!” Evangeline said, her only defense. Patil, outraged, sat her homework down and walked out of the room, mumbling something about idiots. Evangeline put the lid on her potion, removing it from the heat and hoping that afterwards it would solidify even slightly.