CRIMSON} does the torture never end?

[lucy weasley]

and if you think i'll walk away
love you're sorely mistaken

Lucy Weasley stared at the potions teacher, aghast. "You're kidding, right?" she mumbled to herself, staring at her potions book. Blue eyed gaze took in the insanely complex potion. "She expects us to make this? Oh, without killing ourselves, of course" she hissed, though not quietly enough. "Miss Weasley, unless you would like to spend a night in detention, you can close your mouth, and keep it that way!" the professor snapped. Lu couldn't help rolling her eyes and sticking her tongue out at the teacher the moment her back was turned, earning a few giggles from her classmates in return.

She heaved a sigh as she glanced at her empty cauldron, wondering if she would manage to melt the thing yet again. She didn't even want to count how many cauldrons she had gone through in her years at Hogwarts. Potions was just not her strong point. She wasn't good at it. Anything with such a large amount of numbers could no bode well for Lucy. She had never been good at math, or anything that involved numbers, for that matter. It was most certainly not her strong point.

She shook her head as she rose from her seat and walked over to the student cabinet and started pulling ingredients from the shelves. This sucked. This definitely sucked. Heaving another dramatic sigh, she flopped into her seat again and started throwing things in the potion. "Miss Weasley! If you keep throwing things in without rhyme or reason, you'll blow this whle room up!" the professor shrieked. A few people snickered at the woman's reaction, and Lucy didn't reply. Well, not loud enough for the woman to hear, anyway. "I warned you, didn't I?" she asked as she dumped a frog eye into the potion, causing it to turn a brilliant shade of magenta and fizzle and froth and steam quite crazily. She knew she wasn't doing it right, and quite frankly, she didn't really care. It was probably why she was barely scraping by with a passing grade in potions. What did it matter to her if she melted another cauldron?

WORD COUNT;; three hundred fifty two
TAG;; Crimson Macmillan
NOTES;; ugh. sorry. suckish.

[crimson macmillan]

Someday i figure I'll
be rescued from the boredom line

Crimson jumped slightly at the sound of the screeching of the potions professor. She was completely out of anything that was going on around her, she had been staring at the back of a simply delicious Hufflepuff boy, but it had already been a few minutes when she realized she was staring. She shook herself out of it and glanced where everyone else was. It was odd, this was the only time this week she was this distracted. She noticed the great puff of magenta smoke erupting from a neighboring cauldron. Lucy. She made a laugh. Potions was one of her better classes, the few that she rarely use to annoy classmates. “Need some help there?” She said with a smile.

The sound of the professor bickering and threatening at lucy was a laugh, and all she wanted to do was make the darn teacher shut up. “Professor! I kindly ask you to please shut up?” She held in a laugh, the professors round face seemed to turn a shade of violet, not a very good sign. “This might sound a bit dumb, but what were we supposed to do again?” she whispered, while slightly laughing at the same time. The potions professor and the dark arts professor were the two that made Crimson laugh the most. The vision of which both of them in the mere points of combustion are a laugh, not to mention the way they got angry.

Crimson stared at the bubbling pot, already close to being melted. Usually, the cauldrons they used were able to withstand a great amount of heat and or magic. This was a potion that seemed to have gone wrong, and it seemed to have missed a few ingredients here and there that would almost make it into a deadly bomb that might collapse the entire classroom that held all of them. Crimson looked at Lucy, waiting for the potion that was assigned for everyone to make. Even though Crimson barely listens in that particular class, she ends up understanding it while she does the homework.

word count; 345 !
notes; it's like 10 pm where i'm at
tagging; lucy :]

[lucy weasley]

Lucy couldn't help but roll her eyes at the threat of detentions. She had seen most of it before, and, really, she just didn't care. She had never been overly bothered by getting into trouble. Obviously, or she wouldn't be a trouble maker. She snorted out a choking laugh slash cough as Crimson mouthed off to the professor, then asked what they were making. "Some sleeping drought" she responded, shoving the book toward Crimson to let her look. She was sure the girl was pretty much a whiz at potions, which was something lucy was indeed jealous of. She loathed potions with a passion that burned like the sun. It was a huge thorn in her side. If there was a hell on earth, this was it, as far as Lucy was concerned.

She stared at the professor's back like the woman was satan himself or something. She could almost feel her skin crawling. Potions. Anyone who liked potions enough to teach it had to be nasty. Or stupid. Or maybe even both. Whatever the case was, you had to be seriously mental in some form or another. Well, unless you were someone like Crimmy, who was the master of potions, and loved it, and was completely awesome, all wrapped into one little ball. "I'm never going to pass this homework assignment" she muttered out of the corner of her mouth to Crimson. She stared at her ominously bubbling potion, or maybe brutally deadly concoction was a better term.

Lucy was almost a complete failure at potions, thus the reason the potions mistress hated her. Well, quite probably, anyway. It seemed likely, at the very least. she heaved a slight sigh as she ran her finger down the list of ingredients on the potion. She stared at it with a frown on her face that made it look like she was really concentrating, even though she really wasn't. She was sort of half heartedly trying to figure out what she was missing, or had put in too much of. She figured it was a hpeless cause anyway. She wouldn't be able to fix it even if she tried her heart out, so why bother?

WORD COUNT;; three hundred sixty-three
TAG;; Crimson Macmillan
NOTES;; ugh. sorry. suckish.
STATUS;; yay, finally finished! Sorry it took so long!

[crimson macmillan]

Someday i figure I'll
be rescued from the boredom line

Crimson gave her a look. Sleeping drought? Lucy’s potion was far from it. She stirred Lucy’s cauldron, she thought deeply for a moment. Sleeping drought. Her brother’s books probably had a few ingredients. But it took too long. She thought for a moment, sopophorous beans. She made a soft smile then looked back to Lucy. “Sopophorous beans, I think.” She thought, knowing it probably was correct. She looked onto the board, there the ingredient was. And all this time she had to think. She could have been finished by now. But it was alright, what’s school without thinking, you know?

She made a laugh, the homework was to create an antidote for the swelling solution. It was in the books, and it easily was the Deflating draught. The classwork, was to make a sleeping draught, in which, practiced them to make draughts. Crimson sighed heavily, how was she supposed to do that when all of her other assignments were all about the modernization of transfiguration and of course, the dark arts. In both classes which she makes the most trouble. She looked at the clock, class is almost over in about ten minutes. Usually the last ten minutes are the worst, you dread the minutes as the slowly end.

Crimson looked back at the bickering potions mistress. The angry rant was about talking back to the teacher, and she threatens to take away points from the Gryffindor house. How terrible. She looked again up to the clock. It barely moved. Crimson got up to look for the beans, Lucy was her potions partner anyways, so Crimson might as well get the beans for her. She walked up towards the jars of beans only to be stopped by the teacher. She rolled her eyes, trying not to get in trouble she said it straight and out. “Mistress, I am getting beans for the draught potion, will you please move?” She asked slightly, but went to the jars anyways. Taking about six beans, she strode back to the cauldron, seemingly the potions mistress’s ears about to fill with smoke. The trouble of having two trouble making Gryffindors in a class together, it was terrible. Crimson was expecting a detention out of this.

word count; 370 !
notes; bored. nobody's online!
tagging; lucy :]