Nexus

The Potion

McGonagall covered his lessons while he was out, but Percy is back for class on Wednesday. He can walk on his own now but isn't entirely at 100%. He modified his lessons reluctantly, hating feeling weak in his body. It reminds him of when he landed on Ogygia, how weak he had been then.

He detests it.

For the fourth years and first year classes he had in the morning, he assured the students that he was just fine and had had an odd consequence from sleep deprivation.

"Don't go multiple days without sleeping guys," he had joked.

The first years had learned about centaurs and how to properly engage with and respect them. The fourth years had partnered up and gone through basic duels.

By the time the seventh years had come in for the first afternoon class, Percy is exhausted. His head is pounding, each pulse reminding him of his life ticking away.

He had left St. Mungo's yesterday with a bag full of equipment. A scroll lists his care plan and the names of his Healers if he needs to send any owls. A week's worth of the potion had been poured into a large, silver bottle. He has to drink it several times throughout the day.

Percy had purchased a crystalline glass. That way, when he pours the icey, purple potion into the glass, and drinks it during class, the students will not suspect it is medicine.

Who took potion in a whiskey glass?

He pours the purple liquid into the crystalline cup while the seventh years take their seats. Percy throws it back like a shot to fully sell the facade. Then he clinks the glass on the table to signal the start of class, and the students fall silent.

"I'll start off with the same address I did for the first and fourth years—I'm fine," he assures the class. "Madame Pomfrey checked me out and everything is working just like normal. As I'm sure you all know by now, I had a seizure during class triggered by sleep deprivation. I promise not to pull anymore all-nighters," he jokes.

Some of the students smile at his lame joke. Most of them don't.

"Anyway, on to more exciting topics. Your N.E.W.T.s will be administered this spring, so I want to go over what those will look like. It will be three parts: magical creatures, spells, and physical defense. It will be practical, so I am going to periodically do practice exams for you all. Today," he adds, pulling out a bottle of Vitamix potion that Madame Pomfrey was now supplying. He cannot ask Horace for the energizing potion without seeming suspicious. Pomona and Minerva were the only people in Hogwarts who knew of Percy's condition.

"I am going to call you up in groups of five to fight me. All weapons are dulled for safety. This will be a practice for the physical defense portion of the NEWTs." Percy drinks the Vitamix straight from the bottle lest a student recognize it. The potion gives him a burst of energy and improve his reflexes so he can function at his normal level for this exercise. He would have taken it for his earlier classes, but Madame Pomfrey advised against taking it more than once or twice a day. And this is the older class, the one that is most likely to be suspicious if he is still ill.

"Please get into three groups based on the type of weapon you have been practicing with," Percy instructs as the potion starts working. It's brilliant. His body feels rejuvenated and energized, and his senses and reflexes hone in as if his ADHD has only just returned. The class stands up, getting their weapons off the wall and moving into three clumps around the class. They are pretty evenly dispersed by weapon, conveniently enough.

Percy pulls out his staff and steps into the middle of the room. "Alright, five of you come circle up," he directs. There is a bit of shuffling before a few of them move forward.