Harold Eric Dingle (pl_harold) wrote in plagued_rpg, @ 2009-12-12 10:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | !plot, 1998 december, harold dingle, romilda vane |
Who: Harold Dingle and Romilda Vane
What: An experimental new potion goes horribly wrong.
Where: The burnt out greenhouses
When: Whilst you were sleeping...
Rating: Low
Complete || Closed
Harold tapped his fingers on the wall he was sitting on, his fingerless gloves not really doing much against the icy cold of the snow. His bum was going numb. How long was Romilda planning to take? He sat beside a large bag containing everything they needed for the potion, and tucked up his sleeve was a page torn from a book Harold was never supposed to have seen. But really, if they wanted to keep kids out of the restricted section they needed to stop making the lock so darned easy to open.
With a sigh that hovered in the air long after emerging from his lips in a little white cloud, Harold began tracing his name in the snow resting next to him, taking particular time to put extra flourish on the H and L. Finally, the sound of footsteps caught his attention. He
looked up expectantly as Romilda appeared.
"You know a broken clock could've arrived more on time than you did," He said pointedly.
It was cold and Romilda wasn't exactly thrilled with standing in a drafty greenhouse to make a potion. There were nice warm classrooms they could be in, but no. Harold made her go out into the cold to help him. He was lucky she loved potionmaking so much or she'd be back in her dorm room.
"You could always try to make this yourself if you're so worried about my punctuality," she said with a small glare.
"It takes two people!" Harold insisted, picking up his bag. He flashed her a winning grin and led her to one of the empty shells left from the fire, where he'd left a cauldron earlier in the day.
"Look, here are the instructions. I figured, you could brew it, and then I'll cast the final spell right? Can't fail! It just required a really quick hand for the stirring," He explained, pushing the parchment into her hands without explaining what the spell did, and it wasn't like the name gave that much away...
Romilda took the parchment from Harold and looked it over carefully. It was a rather complicated potion. Far beyond what she should be brewing, but that really wasn't going to stop Romilda from trying. She could never say no to trying out a new potion.
"This isn't easy, you know." Pointing to the line calling for mandrake root, Romilda frowned. "If I don't put the right amount in I could really hurt someone. You sure this is a good idea?" But, really, she was already unloading her bag and setting up her potion making supplies.
Harold rolled his eyes, "Complicated? For someone like you? I'm surprised you don't brew this sort of thing in your sleep Rommy!"
He settled down on the other side of the cauldron and pulled out his wand, giving it a few experimental waves. The spell called for a complicated sort of twisty action, but Harold was sure he could pull it off well enough.
"Look, set your mind at ease. I'm testing it first right? And I trust you. If anyone gets sick, it'll be me, and you don't have to be guilty, since it was my idea. Ok?" He emptied his bag of ingredients beside her, and pulled a hanky out of his pocket. Slowly he unwrapped a small, silver, snake.
"Pure silver. What do you think? Stole it from Slytherin's house cup from like the year 1940 or something," He grinned, clearly pleased with himself.
"I'm not that good! I'm still learning." Romilda often doubted her abilities even though she knew she was far more advanced than most students in the school. That didn't mean she should stop trying to better herself. "And it's not like this is a pepper up potion or anything!"
Chewing on her bottom lip, Romilda set fire under the cauldron and walked herself through the directions once more. She didn't want to miss any steps or forget anything. A line of concentration appeared between her eyebrows as she read the instructions twice more. Feeling confident that she knew the steps, Romilda began following them and added the first ingredient to the cauldron.
Putting out a small knife, Romilda began to chop the mandrake root into very small pieces. Looking over at Harold, Romilda's lips twitched into a smirk. "You really shouldn't steal things," she said. But it was from Slytherin and they had probably cheated anyway so she wasn't too fussed.
"Yeah, well," Harold shifted uncomfortably and looked down at the contents of the cauldron as they began to brew together, "It's all for a good cause. Well, its for my cause, and that's good enough. And if this works the way its supposed to people'll be buying it like mad for Christmas. I mean, imagine being able to take someone on a magic carpet ride over Italy or a picnic on top of Mount Everest, all whilst you're both asleep. It'd be an amazing gift for couples..." He eyed Romilda with a small smile playing over his lips.
"Wait, what?" Romilda didn't ask questions like what a potion would do. She simply wanted to make them. And now that she had started well... there was really no way she was going to stop simply because the potion might be a little unethical.
"Don't tell me," she said and poured in three drops of pixie blood. "I don't want to know. You can tell me after I finish."
"It's not bad, I promise-" Harold said quickly, "It..well look, I'll tell you later ok? Just concentrate on this. Here, take the silver, you'll need it in a second..."
He picked up his wand again and exhaled gently, going over the very clumsy sounding spell he needed to cast when the potion turned silver. It seemed odd, the spell, almost as if someone had just plucked letters out of the air. No matter how many different ways he tried it, it never seemed to flow in the same way as other spells. Then again, it was old and practically forgotten now, virtually dark magic. Of course it was odd!
If she was doing this correctly, the potion should have turn a light blue before the silver was put it. Romilda peered into the cauldron to inspect the potion, grinning brightly at the color. Maybe she was brilliant after all. Taking the silver from Harold, Romilda used her wand to break it into seven pieces and added it to the boiling potion. Instantly it changed from light blue to a deep, nearly black blue and lightened again to a silvery grey.
"I think I did it!"
"Great!" Harold said brightly peering at the mixture. Very nice, almost exactly as the parchment described it! Now it was time for him.
He cleared his throat and held out his wand.
"Tolong-BEE-qeathesmus," Harold chanted, twisting his wand in a fluid eight shape. Only it wasn't fluid enough... The cauldron continued to bubble without changing, the silvery-blue surface tossing gently over the heat. Harold frowned and tapped his wand against the side of rim, as if maybe his magic needed just a little more coaxing. Nope, still nothing.
"Well that's a complete let down," He grumbled, "I can't believe I got myself all built up for that. It doesn't even work! It was supposed to steam a little and then turn to jelly. That doesn't look like jelly to me. I bet that whole thing was just bull-" He crossed his arms and frowned. What a waste of perfectly good silver as well! He could've sold that for--
The surface shifted, as if a hard wind had struck it quite suddenly, and gently began to steam.
And then it began to steam a little harder.
And then it began to steam a LOT.
In fact, it was just a funnel of thick, white, smoke rising up into the sky like a plume!
"Romilda!" He called, jumping to his feet. He backed away quickly, afraid it might explode. A noble man would've grabbed Romilda to make sure she was safe, but Harold's first priority was number one.
Looking rather terrified, Romilda backed away from the cauldron. It wasn't the first time she'd blown up a cauldron, but it wad the first time she'd ever done it without knowing what in the world she was making. And that scared her.
Ducking behind a partially burnt table, Romilda watched the cauldron carefully. Oh, they were going to get into trouble weren't they? The busted glass from the greenhouse allowed the smoke to move right up to the dome and without anywhere else to go, it simply continued to smoke.
"Harold... what happened? Is it supposed to be doing that?"
"I don't know! The book said it would smoke a little and then turn all gloopy like jelly!" Harold called back, hoping that any second now the smoke would stop. But it didn't. It just kept piling out, collecting above them like a cloud, starting to stretch out over the castle. Over everything, trapped under the dome like steam in a bottle.
Harold frowned and glanced at Romilda, "Well, er, these sorts of things sort of fix themselves. It'll.. stop.. and disappear. It'll be fine. We should just go and leave it till its finished..."
Whatever was going on, Romilda was certain she was going to be in a world of trouble for it. Running to gather her things, Romilda shoved them all into her bag. Maybe no one would know it had been her and Harold making a big mess of things.
"Let's go. The Professors will clean this up, right?" Romilda ran over to Harold and grabbed his arm. "Come on. I don't want to be near that smoke."
"You're right," Harold agreed, mimicking her and stuffing everything into his bag. He swung it over his shoulder and half followed, half dragged Romilda back towards the castle, leaving the plume of white mist rising up into the sky.
Oh, they were going to get in trouble for this! Hopefully, someone else would do the cleaning up!