delmi robins~ (delmi) wrote in caged, @ 2013-11-26 22:34:00 |
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After Dexter's announcement to a good portion of the student body, Delmi's mind had kicked into gear. Hearing Paige's haunted screams in the dead of night, having to hold her until she fell back into a fitful sleep only to reawaken several more times during the night, had similarly haunted Delmi. She hated to see her friends (as Paige had soon been joined by Nev, Suz, Ginny and countless others) being tormented through their dreams because the new Muggle Studies and Dark Arts professors wanted to go on a little power trip. It was wrong and cruel and Delmi had had enough, so she wanted to ruin whatever brews Professor Slughorn had come up with. But, being a poor potions mistress, Delmi wanted to talk to Lydia before moving forward. So later on in the morning, about fifteen minutes before 6th years' Herbology class was due to end, Delmi made her way down to the greenhouses. And as she stepped outside, she noted it wasn't as cold as it had been when she first awoke, but Delmi was still glad she had chosen to wrap a warm woolen scarf around her neck. The greenhouses proved to be a damp place under the best weather conditions and dampness combined with cool late November air usually left Demelza feeling both clammy and cold, a ruthless combination. She could still hear Professor Sprout's brisk voice barking from within one of the further greenhouses, the one Delmi knew housed the more aggressive herbology studies, like the Strangling Willow or the Devil's Snare. Delmi couldn't be sorry she no longer took Herbology, knowing she would have had to learn how to tend to either of those two species or any others of their kin. Regardless, the Herbology lesson had yet to end, so Delmi perched herself upon the thick lips of a large pot of soil which seemed to stand guard by one of the other greenhouses adjacent to the one where class had yet to disperse, and she waited. Delmi was stretching her legs out before her and silently counting the number of berries when class finally let out. Her peers rushed forward into the cool November air, chatting among themselves as they filed past her. She waved to them cheerily as they passed and even shouted "Oy oy Professor!" as Professor Sprout lumbered past with two potted plants tucked beneath the thick branches of her arms. Then she looked toward the greenhouse expectantly. Lydia had been intrigued by Demelza warding her to say she needed to talk with her and had only barely restrained herself from hassling her over the journals. She tried to deny it, but she was incredibly nosy and once her curiosity was piqued it took a while to assuage her. Still, she knew Demelza and had known that she’d find out what was going on sooner rather than later. Going to herbology was always one of Lydia’s favourite parts of the day -- she loved the class, anyway -- but today she had had the tantalising promise of finding out what Demelza wanted to talk to her about afterwards, as well. She was particularly cheerful in class, but, as per usual, diligent and focused on the task at hand: she might have been looking forward to seeing her friend, but that didn’t stop distract her. It was only after, when she was brushing the dirt off her hands, that Lydia started to really crane her neck to see where Demelza was. It didn’t take long to find her, just outside of the classroom and she smiled at her, a warm and easy grin which spread across her face and lit her expression up. Sidling up to Demelza, she looped her arm through hers and said, “Hi, you. You look cheerful.” "Hi!" Delmi greeted her with a grin from ear to ear. To be honest, she was as cheerful as she looked, because despite the tenacity and potential threat within her plan, it cheered Demelza immensely to think about how she might be able to do some good. Because surely preventing other students from being forced to ingest a Nightmare Draught was a good thing to do, no matter how much trouble she might get for it. "I am," she admitted, clutching Lydia's arm to her side as she leaned toward her friend conspiratorially. Delmi slid from her perch on the pot's edge and proceeded to lure Lydia around the corner and away from other students. Then she turned, unlooping Lydia's arm and hers, but clutched the other witch's hand, squeezing it lightly. "Did you see what Dex said?" Lydia laughed a little bit as Demelza led her away from the rest of the crowd, glancing over her shoulder to look back and wave at her friends to go on. It felt like a secret, clandestine meeting and because Demelza hadn’t been forthcoming yet about what she wanted to talk about, honestly, Lydia had started to concoct ridiculous and bizarre reasons in her head. She smiled a bit at Demelza grasping her hand, but the smile froze when she brought up the nightmare draught. Nodding, Lydia squeezed Demelza’s hand back, tightening her fingers against hers before letting it drop. “Yeah, I did. I guess I should have figured that they had someone brewing it for them in the castle, but to be honest I’d been hoping that they were just buying it in.” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, shaking her head. Honestly, the sheer fact that students were being given nightmare draught still made her stomach churn: it was too harsh, too severe -- yet perfectly in line with the kind of thinking that made people Death Eaters who would punish students with blood quills for infractions. Sighing, Lydia said, “It’s horrible. I hate that they’re using it.” Fervently Demelza nodded her head in agreement. It was awful and inexcusable that they were using potions against students as punishment. Delmi was certain there was a rule about it written down somewhere and corporal punishment like the blood quills had been out of favor for decades. Delmi knew that because her Gran had talked about her days at school. Delmi wondered if her parents knew what was going on; she certainly hadn't told them, out of shame but also out of worry for them, worrying for her. But they also weren't stupid and Delmi's mother worked within the DMLE so maybe she had her thumb on the pulse of things. Delmi wished the people outside of Hogwarts would help. But she had been wishing that for quite some time, with no reprieve. No one ever seemed able to help; not when Dolores Umbridge had reigned over Hogwarts's halls and not when the Ministry had sent Dementors to lurk depressingly over the campus greens. And that was the saddest part of it all to her, that it was being left to teenagers like Harry Potter and his friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger to save the world (again). But they weren't here at Hogwarts any longer and that was all very well and good for them she supposed but Delmi was quite tired of lying back and letting bad things happen. "Me too. That's why I want to ruin whatever he's got. Only…" Delmi worried at her own lip. "Only, I don't want to blow myself up in the process, so could you tell me what a Nightmare Draught looks like, and how I could ruin it without doing that?" Lydia looked at Demelza for a second, running her gaze over her face like she was looking for something. In a way, she was: she wanted to make sure that Demelza was absolutely certain about it, wanted to see the markers of this certainty on her face. She found them and although she didn’t quite smile she was pleased. She knew that Demelza wouldn’t do something unless she was sure and she also knew that this was the sort of thing that could help people. She reached out to squeeze Demelza’s arm again as an indication of support. “Of course. I’ll ask Dex for certain where it was and get back to you, but the draught itself is always a really dark colour -- it’s not quite black, more like blue-black, and the liquid looks quite shiny and viscous. It’s exactly as horrible as the name suggests, which is all the more reason to avoid using it, if you ask me.” Wrinkling her nose, Lydia tugged at the end of one of her braids and continued, “If you’re going to ruin it, ummm, maybe something like horklump juice. It’s used in healing, mostly, so it’ll upset it -- put in a few drops and it’s going to disrupt the potion. Maybe if you add some fluxweed as well. It’ll change its properties and it’ll change colour, but it’ll take a while to do that so it’s not going to explode on you -- you’ll probably notice a change in the smell, though, which’ll tell you you’ve done it right.” She made a humming noise in the back of her throat, considering what she’d just said, and then nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll work out.” The more Lydia added to her suggestions, the more Delmi's head bobbed up and down in acknowledgment. She reached into the pocket of her robes and retrieved a scrap of paper that she suspected was a receipt from the last Hogsmeade's trip. She had tucked a pencil into the bunched part of her ponytail after finishing the crossword at breakfast, and she retrieved it now to jot down: -thick, dark blue-blackish and shiny "And what does it usually smell like?" She added, finally glancing up at Lydia once more. Delmi scratched her temple thoughtfully. "I imagine it smells awful but I haven't actually smelled it before." Lydia watched Demelza taking notes, glancing at the words to make sure they were right -- not because she didn’t think Demelza would get it right, but more out of a habit. She scratched her nose as she tried to think of how to describe the smell of the potion and stared off into the distance for a second before responding. “It kind of smells like really rich earth, but not in a good way,” she said, finally. “You know, a bit boggy, I guess you’d call it. It really catches the back of your throat. You’ll know it when you smell it -- the additions make it smell a little bit fresher, though, which is how you’ll tell the difference.” She smiled at Demelza and asked, “Does that help?” Finishing off her notes, Delmi smiled. "Yeah!" She said, practically chirping like a bird. Her smile widened. "Thank you, Lyds. This is tons of help. I really appreciate it." She tucked away the notes and then slid the pencil back into the mess of hair at the crown of her head. Delmi looped arms with Lydia just as the other girl had done earlier when they first met up. "Are you hungry? I think lunch should have just started, and I bet the house-elves have made something really delicious!" “Oh, it’s not a problem. Anything to help,” Lydia said. It sounded like a rote answer, but her voice was suffused with feeling and she was being entirely sincere, so the meaning extended, became more than a cliche or a pleasantry. Lydia honestly would do anything she could to help. Taking Demelza’s arm, Lydia smiled and nodded, bumping her with her hip. “I could eat a horse,” she declared, nodding, “so the house elves had better have made a feast or I’ll be really sad.” |