N.B. Characters may be late to this first class if you must, but for later classes, I'm sure Penny will start taking off points. It's better if they arrive on time. If you get behind in posting at the start of the class, feel free to post as if they were already in the room! Thanks!

[Outfit]

Gosh, what a long day and she still had one more class to go! This teaching thing was about as hard as she thought. It wasn't too hard, but it wasn't easy either. How was she going to memorize everyone's names?! Just as soon as she got enough room to breathe, the bell would ring and another class would come. Endless, but she loved it. Teaching was definitely her calling--or so she confidently thought. The last class of the day were the seventh years. Unlike her previous class of the third years, this group might be hungry because they weren't coming in right after lunch. For the final time that day, Penny emptied the bucket of candy to make a pile of candy on each desk which had been rearranged to their original positions from the walls. The Warming Solution was taken off the fire and set aside by her desk; she'd have to give away free samples later on to staff and students alike.

With an actual eraser, the young American professor wiped the writing from the previous lesson from the board, picked up her chalk, and began to write the ingredients of a youth potion on to the board. While the final class of the day meandered in, most likely sharing the exhaust with their teacher, she completed her list and turned to smile at them all brightly.

"Good afternoon, seventh years! My name is Penelope Elaine Darling," gawd, now she was beginning to notice she had an American accent, "and you may call me Penny Lane, Professor Darling, Miss Darling, or Miss Penny! We're here to have fun, but I guess since I am your teacher, you're expected to learn something, too." Penny chuckled. "The class will be as fun as you allow it to be. All I ask is that you keep your drama and grumpy, bitter comments to yourselves because class discussions and debates will be frequent. I want everyone to have a good time. Go ahead and help yourselves to the candy: but you have to share!"

There was a refreshed spring in her step. All of these older students definitely looked ready to graduate from Hogwarts. The worried thought of how she was going to manage teaching them everything that was on their N.E.W.T.s crossed her mind and flitted right back out again. She would worry about that later.

"Today, you're all going to learn about the folklore and legends behind potions--in the muggle world. Keep in mind that to us, potions are actually a legend. In Salem, my hometown, witches were burned when a lot of them weren't witches at all. Some muggles claimed that the young girls had given their husbands a love potion to bewitch them into having an affair or that they had poisoned their livestock with potions. Muggle legends tell of the Fountain of Youth, a fountain filled with water that can make the drinker young and beautiful. There are indeed love potions and youth potions, even rumored among witches and wizards that Nicholas Flamel invented the Elixir of Life which can make the drinker immortal. Records from the years of Albus Dumbledore, I've researched, says that the Elixir was a factual potion that was destroyed in early to mid- 1992."

Casually, the teacher walked around the tables where the students sat and smiled at them while some enjoyed their snacks.

"Folklore and myths are an important part of our culture. Our society as a wizarding community thrives upon them because they may be legends to muggles, but they are our history and therefore important. Today, if we have time, we will be brewing a Youth Potion for fun. Before that, though, I want us to have a class discussion. Which potion do you students think, or some of you may know, is the most fatal?"

The American returned to her desk and sat on it to see how many hands went up. She waited courteously to see if any more came up before making a comment.

"You can guess. This is all speculation, after all, there is no right or wrong answer. Your opinion is yours alone. As long as you don't get degrading to too personal in the matter, feel free to answer."

Another class for Grace Eddy to diligently perform.

Grace smiled up at the young professor, charmed by her accent, as it tended to remind her of the Gryffindor Head of House, Professor Levartian. A lot of students at the school didn't get much interaction with the Arithmancy professor, but Grace did. And Grace was actually looking forward to this new professor, even though she liked Gunnar. She just hoped that she wouldn't have to endure another class like one of the first potions classes where she had a run-in with Maeve Whitman. As long as the Slytherin stayed far away from her, life would be swell. And if the detestable girl didn't keep her distance, well....then there would be problems.

These sentiments seemed to be echoed by the cheery professor, who set forth her goals for the class atmosphere. Hopefully her classmates would cooperate.

Grace did not need the candy to keep her interest in the class and she followed the professor as she walked around the room, discussing the topic of the history of potions and elixirs.

When she asked about the most fatal potion, Grace raised her hand with her best thoughtful response. "Well, I don't know if I can definitively state which potion I think is most fatal," she admitted, careful to shoot any fellow classmate intent on mocking that answer a fierce glare. "But I believe most potions are dangerous because when a person drinks them, it often sets off an unpredictable series of events." She shrugged. "Cause and effect...and just because someone did not intend for a certain cause to happen, does not mean they can stop an effect--even something as serious as death--from following."

George had his arm around the head girl, feeling rather antsy to be on holiday all ready. While he didn’t mind staying at the castle now and again for holidays and down time, he had made some plans to spend some of this one with Waker. And, if things worked out right, he’d be able to really make up for the mistakes he’d been making recently.

Plus, all the essays and coursework that he actually had to work on interfered with his free time. His slave driver tutor slash girlfriend had her mind set on passing every essay with something higher than that rarely attainable (by George, at least) O. And since Waker tended to be his free time… he was just looking forward to a break from the trials of school. Quidditch practice had also drained on him, come to think of it. He loved it, of course, but managing his team… it took concentration and extra attention to detail.

Still… he couldn’t complain. And as he sat down in the potion’s dungeon, he figured it could be a lot worse. At least he was fairly caught up… and he was excited about progress made with his Herbology project.

Borrowing a piece of parchment from his handy girlfriend, George pulled the quill out from behind his ear and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks love.” He smirked and turned his attention to the front after nodding a greeting to Grace. By then, though, the professor was talking, and the accent caught him off guard, drawing his attention up to her in amusement. He listened as he glanced to the candy, pushing a couple of pieces around as he considered jotting down what she had written up on the board.

“-a fountain filled with water that can make the drinker young and beautiful-”

He leaned forward slightly, a smirk forming on his lips as he spoke in a low voice towards Waker. “I could be a fountain of youth. Want to take a drink?” Tapping the quill lightly on the desk surface, he finally started to write down the list of ingredients. Then she was asking for input, and he merely sighed, hearing the all too expected voice of Grace, forcing him to grin wide, glancing over his shoulder in her direction.

“Too true. I would think love potions could be fatal. If you would go to the ends of the earth for someone… you’re less likely to worry about your safety.” Nudging Waker with his knee under the table, he leaned forward on his elbows on to the table, raising an eyebrow. Sure, he could have gone with something simple like a poison or something, but why take the easy way out?

While many students his age were looking to score brownie points, and brown nose their way to the top, Atticus was one to try and pretend he resembled a piece of furniture. The  episode of causing the last mudblood teacher's pet to spit slugs was all but a distant memory anymore. As time went on Atticus became less and less of a threat and more of a cautionary tale of who not to mess with. He liked that fear he had brought for the brief period of time. There was a sense of power he never really experienced previous to that.

With much aggravation, Atticus had made his way to class knowing full well he was expected to participate. There would be little of that if he had his choice. Walking in late, Atticus wandered over to the back of the seats and sat himself down only catching bits and pieces of the opening speech. There was some nonsense about America, blah blah, Salem. He could careless about all that rot.

What drove his parents to the brink of dropping him off the family tree was the fact that he actually was brilliant at Potions if he put forth the effort. What he failed to do though was find the reason to do so. Granted the professor wasn't bad to look at, she wasn't handsome enough to tempt him towards climbing to the head of the class. He did however start mulling over deadly poisons and potions he had heard of despite himself. "Draught of Living Death can fool'em well enough..." It was something he muttered somewhat under his breath before he knew it someone else was piping up. The Draught of Living Death wasn't actually fatal but he figured if someone considered you dead, it couldn't go well for you.

That annoying sound of Grace opening her jaws was like ear sandpaper for him. A sound of grating scratching over the tender parts of his inner ear was enough to make him want to go batty. Instead of chiming in like many were expected to, Atticus instead pulled out some paper and remained tight lipped scribbling a little doodle on the right corner. If anyone came close enough they would see two stick figures, one looked to be hanging the other by their feet over open flames. Snickering softly, Atticus watched as he made the flames lick at the other stick figure. He was up to his usual, not much was to be expected from such a lousy student.

Maeve was sitting by herself in potions class, given that her cohort, Atticus Pennyapple, was visably absent. Usually, he was one of a small group of people she chose to sat with. Someone she could curb the perils of boredom together. He had always been one of her favorite classmates since they had met during first year and for years after they had done their share of snickering during class sessions and making fun of others in their year, particularly certain know-it-all Gryffindors.

When Atticus finally arrived to class and took a seat nearby, she naturally perked up. She turned in her seat to look at him and she watched him doodling for a moment before interrupting. "Atticus," she hissed with a glint in her eye. "What kept you? I've been bored to death here all by my lonesome." She pouted and discreetly picked up her things and slipped into the chair next to him. Her eyes migrated across the room to where the Eddy girl sat with her kind. "I will be so happy when we no longer are required to listen to that mudblood talk."

Peering over at his drawing, she smirked. "Nice likeness," she whispered. "A prophecy perhaps? What she has to look forward to if she ever asked for help in DADA again?" That encounter had almost been comical. But Maeve's eyes went cold as she remembered her own previous encounter with Grace Eddy in an earlier potion's class that semester. The Slytherin girl was just biding her time before she was intent on seeking her revenge for that.

Not wanting to draw the teacher's attention for talking, Maeve picked up her quill and scratched out on the top corner of her parchment, What are you doing later? She pushed it towards him and patiently awaited a response.

The quill scratched a few more disparaging graphics and remarks about Grace before he looked at one of his dearest friends. Atticus and Maeve bonded over their personal hatred for one person or another over the years. Being from the family ties they are known to have and the blood running through their veins, it was only common sense that they would be close over the years. When his anger felt like it was going to erupt violently, Atticus would confide in Maeve and soon after he would have a companion in aggravation.

A smirk-like sneer crossed his lips as he casually leaned back so Maeve could whisper in  his ear a little better. Snickering lightly, "Well Christmas Hols are coming around the bend, 'Eddy roasting over an open fire...' it has a nice ring to it. Perhaps I can suggest it to the choir this year, it seems like a more suitable than some of the trash they make us perform each year." Atticus played guitar for the choir, it wasn't like he had a real reason to other than he liked to play music. He was into a couple extracurriculars though he would claim it was not his own choice. Anything to look like a rebel he figured.

Looking down at the scratched question of his activities for the day. Grinning Atticus looked at the professor then back at the parchment. Pulling his quill from the previous drawing, he wrote back slyly 'Nothing yet, what did you have in mind?' Atticus was almost always up for mischief, and he wasn't going to change that anytime soon. Looking about the classroom he was surprised it hadn't been bustling like usual. Perhaps he was just lucky enough to have a quiet day in class.

Maeve's blue eyes continued to follow Atticus' scrawling notations about their detested classmate. She smirked at his deliciously evil ways to torture the poor girl. For Maeve certainly felt she was poor in every sense of the word. From her horrid choice in clothing right down to the blood running through her veins.

Of course, it didn't take long for  thoughts of Eddy to fall away in favor of other pursuits. Early on, she and Atticus often found themselves scouring the castle for mischief and fun. Maeve had never had the same restrictions with him as she had had with Dracon because Atticus' family was on par with her own. In fact, sometimes they even joked about joining their two families and becoming an unstoppable force of wealth, prestige and just gorgeous genes.

"Let's meet up in the common room later and we can figure out..." Her voice trailed off a bit as she felt the professor's gaze move their way. Once in the clear again, she finished, "How best to study for our upcoming midterms." Studying was code for get into mischief. "Something like that."

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OOC: We can end their little bit there so we don't take over the thread, but it was fun reconnecting with them and yay for future posts!