A two potions plan

She fixed her night glasses back on the bridge of her nose, sighing at the bare-visibility of her cauldron pre-made contents. The big boss of a pot itself was already brewing on the fire, not doing much for the visibility or for that matter the warmth of the room. That was prerequirement for conditions under which all the scrap on her table would interact to be able to contribute to the potion their presumably magical properties. As a child, she used to mime her mom’s potion-brewing, gathering the bugs and flowers into hot cup of water and wondering why it didn’t work. The sun, the visibility, the crystals - they were even more responsible for the magic-holding than the magician herself at times.

She checked the sand clock, and turned it over right the moment it ran out, and then began to cast the spell, throwing stuff into the cauldron bit by bit.

In went the frogs eyes, with a wish of lucidity, then the elderflower, as a plea for the death to wait up. All her mind was concentrated on the words she pronounced and the order of organization of the ingredients.

“Excuse me, professor!” came bursting through the door. But she didn’t flinch and continued to cast, trusting her crow to take care of the intrusion.

In went the whole pre-made potion of fortitude, potion of sleep, and after the blue fairy dust and marinated cat nails, potion of awakening.

“Out, out, out, casting in process”, the crow ushered at the girl, who went for negotiations. “I just want to ask, for the potion…” But the crow stopped her, flapping wings and flying around the girl, “Shut up, shut up! Wait!”

In went the beads of life-sustenance, which was usually the point at which the professor stopped thinking of the cauldron contents as practically soup. Beads were rocks, not to be dissolved, to be fished out afterwards, washed and dried, and re-used, and then at some point re-enchanted.

With a sparkle and flourish the spell was finished, and the professor quickly stirred the contents. Then came the moment of straining, then was the testing on mice, because even though the recipe was tested on humans before, it wasn’t the one often used, so one had to be sure. She poured the potion into three small vials, and began to clean the cauldron lest the reaction go on into forming their own government.

When she made it out of the brewery, the student wasn’t around. She turned to the crow, “She said something?” .

“Negative. She went on.”

“Did you tell her to come back?”

“Negative. She went on.”

The professor sighed, and casted the shield and spell-catching on herself before heading out. These were the trying times in the Academy. They said it was the toughest Headmaster they ever had had. Curfews, corporal punishment and even public executions came full force back. Tip-toeing wasn’t even the term now, it was the style of movement if one wanted to keep safe. The professor herself had to save the most of her mana for red-alert cases. Someone’s got to give. Someone… had already given.

The professor of history went first. He was the most liberal one and unfortunately the most brave one. It was a year ago, when the whole Council voted for his execution. Adversarial and ready to light up the morally wrong pieces, the professor of history did not stand a chance. Even though he was right. Even though the Academy hadn’t been using execution for half a century already.

The professor of Potions stopped at her dorm door, losing a thread of thought, hearing the buzz of her scarab of presence. Someone was behind the door. Well. She hoped the mice would survive.

She took out the potion she had just concocted and trying not to make too much noise sucked some out with a leather dropper with a metal handle. She had her special gloves on, the ones with the slots for these droppers. So she could easily plant the potions onto enemies. How many enemies per meter you had to have to be wearing these gloves non-stop?

After this she pulled the doorknob.

The spellcatcher caught the initial strike, the next spell was so fortunately physical so the shield also blocked, and then the prof herself recasted the spellcatching, while trying to grab the offender. She didn’t have time to wonder who was that, but she had her guesses, which after the next exchange of spell strikes proved anyway - it was the professor of ethics. Last man standing.

Ridiculous how the Academy came to this. The professor of Regular sciences traveled a lot this year, substituting for the hell of it .The professor of Native language got taken out in summer, under weird circumstances, and the one filling for her now was extremely unwell already. It was obvious why. All the newcomers were subjected to some poisoning, she figured. She was trying to find out which one, so she could come up with the salve. She hoped she could…

The smallest gap of opportunity presented her and she pressed the dropper on her glove, pushing it right into the mouth of the man, some spilled on his mustache, some he spitted out, but that was why she boiled this particular potion down so it would be tough in concentration. She lost the moment to recast the spellcatching though so the next strike of the ethics man hit her to the bone and she froze in place.

Thankfully he also gasped for air and dropped.

Well, damn.

Where were the sycophant students when you needed them the most, come on. Bother me right now, it’s the night, she thought. It’s high time to come to request shelter, or a mom call. You do it all the time, girls and boys! Why not tonight!

The door was closed, her body unavailable and the potion timer slowly ticking away. That was the only chance. As far as she knew, everyone else was poisoned enough to not take any sort of action - not for, not against. Maybe the poison also zombified, so the headmaster would call for them? But she had been prepared ever since the history teacher’s death. Strike now. She had to kill the headmaster. Nobody was coming for their save. She had to be fast, oh, goddess, she had to be faster than fast.

The knock on the door brought no relief though. How would she answer, duh.

“Sleeps! She sleeps!” The stupid crow hissed at the student. Probably it was a student, maybe it was some accomplice of the prof, now soundly asleep on the floor. He looked dead. Maybe he was dead. She had to check.

“I’ll just check, hush,” said the student, actually coming into the unclosed door,and she was grateful to the ethics prof that he took down all her guarding systems.

“ooookay.” the student drawled, taking in the picture before him. Who would you choose to pause and whom - to re-alive, boy? What side you’re on?

“So, ethics professor, who’s been all twisting the facts, and using some chewed-up logic… and the suck-up potion master, who was staying up really late in the brewery…?”

He walked between them two, moronically not knowing that they were running out of freaking time.

“One has never done a bad thing in his life… because he must be the epitome of ethics. Right? Or maybe I don’t know some things about him. But what beef could you two have? You’re stuck. Oh! You’re not dead either. Seriously suspicious that you’ve been acting alone… the two of you…”

Well, not really suspicious. It all came down to her being right. They were basically thinking the same… divided only by the immense trust they had to show to their boss.

“Ok, gotta choose now. Gotta choose. Well,the grumpy-ass prof versus the one who always helps us and we all have excellent marks in potions class… Isn’t a hard choice, is it.”

Except you saw me blinking, and now you’re biased, she thought, but in this exact moment it was whatever it takes situation.

The boy fumbled around his spellbook, which also looked like potions book, judging by the plumpiness from the other side - as they had to stick the samples sometimes, to learn to distinguish one stuff from another, - and the professor of said potions cringed. Being saved by a mediocre half-assing dude, what a classic.

“Is it petrification… but then your eyes should be also not working… hmmm…”

Yeah, the General Magic professor should assign extra homework for this one, she thought impatiently.

“Is it poision? Charm… What is it? D-D-G, if I disenchant you, can I count on a pass in potions?”

Obviously not.

Even if he managed to disenchant her, it would be hard to actually ask the General Magic professor to assist him, because he probably wasn’t siding with anyone and it was impossible to tell whose side he was on.

After whole deeply anxious, bordering on panic even, seven minutes, the boy decided to cast the highest purification he had, and it wasn’t even in the program. He sort of got ahold of it himself for his own purposes. The Potion Master had to revisit her harsh estimations of the success of this particular student. Apparently, he was creative and motivated enough to explore on his own - which meant to her that he was worthy of all the support, disregarding his negligence at some things. One cannot be perfect in everything. It’s enough to stay curious.

Slowly, sensitivity of her lips came back, then her shoulders felt strained again. Shame, looked like that spell actually had a painkilling element on the side. But, well, back to old grumpy barely habitable body.

“I am grateful,” she pronounced with as much dignity as she could gather in this situation. “What brought you here?”

“Please, don’t erase my memories!” He begged, immediately coming to all the right conclusions.

“I won’t.”

She didn’t do mental spells. Thought it was a mauveton. She used the good old shut-yer-mouth-whenever-you-try-to-spill-the-beans spell, it was more ecological and equally suspicious, but also distributed the responsibility a little bit more evenly.

“I… I was sent here. By an owl. A pink one, if it says anything to you.”

Wow, what a choice of agents, professor thought. She expected someone… better. Still, she corrected herself, this one wasn’t that bad, and probably was the best in these… wrecked circumstances.

“Good.”

If he was telling the truth, he must have a parcel. So he would either have instructions to hand it over, or would ask for them now.

“Would you… would you… dance till the morning with me?”

Professor’s heart twinged in young ache, and she inhaled through her nose to calm down. Only after that she answered:”Like a spark on a lake too dark I sure would, sure I would.”

“Okay phew, I was afraid to mess up here, I’m bad at cramming,” he confessed, messing with his bag and producing a parcel. It was small. Really small one, linen, uncolored, hefty. “I don’t know what’s inside, professor… But, can I say that on my behalf… I wish it was an instant death potion there.”

“I am grateful to you.”

She chose not to discuss her opinions with a student and casted a shut-up spell on him. “There. I shall see to you receiving a generous payment for your cooperation.”

“Professor. A lot of students… want the I-D option. If my observation can be of use.”

She merely nodded to him, hoping that he’d leave sooner, and good graces he finally did.

After the door closed, she checked the listless body on the floor for breath and ran a detect magic on the professor of ethics, in case he might be found before she commits her crime. The potion would be active for some more time, all the magical devices on the prof were locked by her room’s runes. And she had a late night date with the headmaster right in the Secret Tower.

She renewed all the security spells and put an extra couple - to alarm her when the ethics guy would regain consciousness, and to alarm her of any new random visitors. The night was young. She had to hurry.

Going through the labyrinths of the Academy, she nodded off to her appointed girls of the night. They all were a little bit worried by her tardiness.

Final small passage with her guardians, and she was off into the unknown and dangerous areas, where only professors would cause her harm. The Council tower zone went by with minimal damage, only three traps and two triggers, and five or six alarms - which she managed to shut down before they went off by her own customized potion of Snooze. It didn’t turn them off completely, and had a severe chance of actually not being effective, but she knew who had placed these alarms and knew what manner of spells he used. Old man didn’t bother to read up on new research.

A sudden flash of light burst at her, and she barely managed to dodge a fireball. Which was odd - the spell catching necklace was presently active on her neck, full charges, why didn’t it catch it?

She was not prepared for what she saw next. Oh, how low could you go in attempts to control others! So low you issue an outlandish beast to help you in that!

A medium sized sort of dragon gawked at her and vomited fire at her once again, and she had to shield herself with some curtain which immediately took all the damage, lighting up.

She knew potions to tame beasts, to make them dead, obedient, harmless. She expected more mechanical stuff on her way, not more natural.

Who gave the principal the permission?! To have a magical beast around without it being the news of the whole country was blasphemous!

But who cared now, the bat-like wings of the small dinosaur flapped again and it lashed another spray of fire, reflexes almost failing the professor of potions.

The Principal didn’t care for ending the lives of teachers, of students too. He probably didn’t care about permissions as well.

She decided to get closer to the creature. It was fruitlessly flying around, not being able to properly land, as it seemed - it had a body of a snake, and not much landing capacity on its wings, so was it normally face-planting into the ground, or what?

The professor still had some sleeping shots on her nails, but the fangs scared her. Also, you know, fireballs. The chances she could make it gulp it were close to zero. But the prof decided to dare it - or else, all her experience with feeding cats their meds would have been in vain.

She only had to find the way to make it slow down in its flails and chaotic batting around the corridor. If there were any traps, she’d be screwed. So she casted fog, should be wet enough. She saw that this creature’s flight techniques were based also on fire, so it should not be able to fly if the fire got a little bit damp.

Too bad the creature was also just an animal and far more agile than any human, let alone an aged-up like fine wine professor. So she took all the panicked flails right into her face, claws scratching her cheek, the beak weakly snapping right next to her left ear, the tail tightening around her ankles. They dropped to the floor, gracelessly, barely avoiding knock-out. First seconds it was just professor trying her best not to let the dinosaur snip off her neck, but eventually she sacrificed some of her dress and hair, giving the monster chewing material, and finally reached out to the snout of it. It was slippery. The miniature dragon apparently emitted some mucus, and it scorched the open skin on the tips of her fingers, but she hissed and went on, stuffing its nose so it would open wider.

“That’s it, that’s a good boy, or girl, or whatever you are, good snakey,” she squeezed out through shut teeth, putting her finger under the upper jaw of the monster, “Come on now, gulp, shut-shut, yeah, that’s right.” The trick worked on the beak-mouthed snake just as well as it did on her cats, great.

The tail went slack, letting her legs free, but the whole body of it smashed her. Probably weighed like a proper average human male.

“Well - well - well…” theatrics were the Principal’s favorite exercise while punishing people.

The prof casted a shield and pushed off the sleeping snake.

“Malgreas, what is this creature? Did it fly away from your zoo or something?”

They weren’t official enemies. She still could pull that card on him.

“Why are you sneaking into my zone so late at night?”

Shucks, someone was truly going senile.

“Mal, we’ve agreed to meet up, you forgot?” She dared to stand up, trying to dust off her skirts, but he probably wasn’t senile enough not to catch her ammunition and nervousness.

“It seems I am losing you as my faithful and loyal friend, Melissa,” he hummed, casting beginning in his hands. Instant Death spell took almost five minutes to finish, and it took a lot of concentration and mana.

That’s why the professor preferred potions, probably. She had it in the crystal vial, which thankfully was still intact, lying in the nook of her bra. The vial had a sharp tip which also served as a syringe. But the scenario for this was not a violent fight for her life, it was them exchanging some lovely affirmations of friendship and devotion.

“See for yourself, Malgreas,” she acted as hurt as it was possible under the brunt of actual physical pain and exasperation. She was ready to die.

“Never once you voiced your disagreement, except in the beginning… I wonder if that was you giving up on me.”

Smart, exact, but still - delusional.

“Is there something you want from me, my old friend?” She told him, attempting a smile. “What if I could give it to you now.”

He became infuriated, “How dare you call me "friend" !"

The cast of Instant Death flickered, and she saw him renewing it, but her own heart and fear were against taking it to arm herself. She tried nevertheless.

“You probably wouldn’t want to call me that, but it’s ok. I have the capacity to forgive. Just give me a reason.”

“You shall be dead in three minutes, skunk!” His eyesbright blue from casting, his white mustache like a foam around his mouth.

“We’ll see about that, Malgeas. I am giving you the last chance. You need to step down as a Principal or you’re going to get yourself killed. If you don’t care for anyone else around you, I am betting my all that you are sane enough to are for yourself, tell me, is that true?”

“You are wasting your time not running away, Melisa!” he roared, his casting unwavering.

Ok, whatever, she decided. Psychologically it was impossible to push him. So she decided to use these last minutes as she pleased.

First she casted to check if there were people under or above them. Then she checked the magical field - whether they’d cause a rip in it, simultaneously casting two big spells or not. Then she casted prestidigitation on herself, she didn’t want to be unpretty in the last seconds of her life. Then she took the sleeping snake and wrapped itself around her neck.

The spell wavered and she looked in the eyes of the principal.

She then took the head of the snake and put it on her own head.

And then she casted Sandification from a small scroll on her sleeve.

Principal had a moment of shock before his cast got to abrupt cancellation when the three floors above them turned to heavy sand, falling onto them, together with the furniture, which went as it was, and the professor of potions barely had time to cast some bubble of breathing and shielding on the both of them. Still Malgreras had a mouthful of sand, and his eyes got a lot of it too. She herself was protected by the snake, who went awake and thrashing in the sand tomb like crazy.

The prof was properly out of mana to damp the snake again, so she just helped it, gave it a small raven treat she usually kept in her breast pocket., and the snake soon recognized an ally, and didn’t flail that much. Together they were trying to make their way to the place where the Principal got sanded.

When she found him, he was unconscious. It was fortunate, and it was so easy to just fill him up with the vial of I-D.

Melissa wasn’t battling with him with his own methods, not always. Maybe a small part of her wanted him to suffer, but she wanted these sufferings to bear fruit. She wanted a better world, where every culprit is brought to justice but also - every culprit had a hope. To get better, to get the care they needed, to get proper help, to be nurtured into the ways where they happily live, not harming other people, not wishing and not needing to do so.

She had to try.

She took out the other, the purposefully concocted one, the one she couldn’t make on her own on the Academy grounds.

She used to feel sorry for that idea, used to feel contempt towards it. It was a sad way to do it. But she had to.

She opened the slack mouth of the Principal and poured the liquid into his mouth.

He coughed, he turned pale, and for ra moment Melissa feared that foregoing the testing segment of the trials and making sure what kind of potion was in the parcel was a grave mistake, but then the Malgreas’ skin began to rose back, he opened his eyes, his lips trembling.

“What’s that?!”

“Magic stripping poison.”

He wanted to say something more,but she put a finger on his mouth, shushing him. “I’ll take care of you. I won’t anyone harm you, I promise. You are still my friend and it’s necessary that you believed me.”

“Is it … for good?” He seemed to relax.

“Yes.”

He then tried to fight her,but the bat-snake hissed at him. Cute, what a simple small treat and saving of life could do to a beast. Now it was her turn to do the human testing phase.

The I-D potion would be forever kept between her tits, though.

Published 29 Apr 2024