Magic? || Years 1-5

The Draught Of Peace: Year 5

They started up to the castle.

"Ron," Amisty sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "aren't you, as Harry's best friend, supposed to be his wingman?"

He stared at her, "What?"

Hermione let out a very dramatic, very loud, very frustrated sigh, "Yes, he is, but he's clearly hopeless at it!"

They bickered all the way down to the dungeons, Harry getting more and more annoyed by the second judging by how unimpressed he seemed.

They trudged inside the Potions classroom, taking their seats in the back of the classroom per usual.

"Settle down," Snape drawled, shutting the door. His words were unnecessary, however, as everyone was quiet the second they stepped into the room.

"Before we begin today's lesson, I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrap an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my... displeasure.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me. I take only the very best students into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye.

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell, so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. The ingredients and method," He flicked his wand at the board and the words appeared, "are on the blackboard, you will find everything you need," the cupboard opened, "in the store cupboard, you have an hour and a half... Start."

Amisty hated the potion the second she started. It was complicated and difficult and had to be done just so or it would go down in flames.

Possibly literally, depending at which point the wrong ingredient was added.

"Stir it once more, you lost count," Draco whispered as he brushed past her desk, looking entirely calm and collected as he continued with his own -- perfect -- potion.

She nodded her thanks, certain she was going to tear her hair out by the end of the lesson.

Pouring in the porcupine quills, she stirred it clockwise and then counterclockwise in what she hoped was the correct amount of times and lowered the level of the flames under her cauldron.

"A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion," Snape announced.

Amisty breathed a very obvious sigh of relief.

It wasn't perfect, the silver wasn't quite as shimmery as it should have been, but it was passable.

"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"

The class suddenly went very quiet.

Amisty looked up from her cauldron, just in time, too. If she hadn't, the bead of sweat on her forehead would have ruined all her work.

It was that horrible of a potion to make.

"The Draught of Peace."

"Tell me, Potter, can you read?"