"I think you're probably correct," William agreed ruefully. "It might have been counterclockwise after all?"
He started to cast a few cleaning spells, wondered how volatile the mixture still was, and reconsidered that plan. Tearing one of the cuffs off of his shirt, he expanded it into a workable cleaning cloth and set it to mopping up the worst of the mess.
"New cauldron," he decided, eyeing the old one, which didn't look even close to salvageable. They were one step closer, though. How many attempts must it have taken Gabe to develop this potion in the first place? His shirt cuff was starting to look saturated, so he ripped the other one off as well, sighing. "This would have been easier if Gabe's instructions had been more helpful," he remarked, then admitted, "and if I could remember them better."
He looked over at Jon and said quietly, "It's not your fault, you know. None of this. You can't hold yourself responsible for everything just because you happened to be there without the necessary information or resources to prevent it."