Currently Attending:

Gryffindor
- Chance Ryker :: 2 -10 (for the verbal attack and leaving)
- Grace Eddy :: 1 -5 (for leaving)

Hufflepuff
- Fauna Blake :: 4 -5 (for leaving)
- Matty Amherst :: 1

Slytherin
- Dracon Towler :: 3
- Liviana Wiedman :: 3
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NB: Please write as if your character is already in the lesson by the time Ignan begins. If your character has a plot reason for being late, then by all means write their arrival as an interruption, with the house point loss accompaniment... Thanks.
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Now that Ignan had a better grasp of the variety of abilities within the seventh year NEWT class, he felt a little more able to push their abilities. There were some capable students within the group, some more tentative. He was well prepared to push them.

January had arrived, and the castle was a large and draughty building. Beside the fires one would forget the cold, and then traverse a corridor feeling the icy wind biting at your ankles. Long wizard robes were invaluable for keeping out the chill, and Ignan expended a little energy to casting a insulation charm on himself each morning to keep the cold away.

In comparison to the cold he had felt at home, visiting extended family and associates, Hogwarts felt much more mild, but the last thing he needed was a cold.

Within the first floor defences classroom that Tuesday morning, a fire burnt in the grate, rich and warm, and shadows cast up the walls from the candle and firelight which helped illuminate the room with the grey light falling through the windows from the sunlight filtering through the thick grey cloud outside. The students who had come from Care of Magical Creatures looked ruddy in the face, presumably from standing outside with the animals.

"Good morning seventh years.  Note taking will not be optional this lesson, as your text books do not cover this topic adequately. For your NEWT examinations in a matter of months, the examiners will expect only the best students to have studied this.  They are entirely foolish to suggest that the topic is frivolous and unessential. I expect each of you to be proficient before the examination." He flicked his wand at a box on the desk at the front, and levitated it over the heads of two lines of students, landing it on a student's desk in the third row.

"Please gather round."

Taking a set of keys from his pocket, Ignan selected the correct one and unlocked the little wood chest.  Within the box were twelve beautifully crafted bottles, set in two rows of six, nestled in a black velveteen caddy.

"There are twelve sealed poisons in this box." He spoke quietly, and several students peered over a little more to get a look at the lines of bottles.
"Those of you studying potions for a NEWT may be able to recognise some, and know the way to reverse them chemically. Sometimes one does not have a bezoar to hand."

His long pale fingers reached in and lifted the first bottle out, which contained an orange-red coloured liquid within it.
"Bloodroot. Smells faintly of oranges, and has a sweet taste." He named the poison. "Consumption causes burning in the stomach, intense thirst, vomiting, faintness, vertigo and loss of eyesight." He held the bottle between thumb and forefinger up at eye height for the students to examine the colour.
"The victim will dehydrate, choke on their own vomit, and not see to realise what has happened." He could hear the scratch of quills against parchment as the students hurried to scribble down the details.

"What do you suspect may be the only antidote?"

EDIT; Hogwarts uniforms, slytherin

While Dracon did miss Hogwarts, he most certainly did not miss waking up before seven in the morning for an early (but delicious) breakfast. His mother never really did much cooking, only on holidays or another extra special occasion, and even then it was a meager and quick meal that could be later reheated when the shop closed. They never had done the sit-down meal routine that most families did, or ate proper dinners like chicken and vegetables, and they sure as hell didn’t eat a gourmet breakfast. One of Dracon’s earliest and fondest memories of Hogwarts was his welcoming feast after he was sorted. He had never eaten so much in his entire life. It left him feeling as bloated as a balloon with lamb chops, sweet potatoes, and a hefty dose of Cornish pastries. While he did enjoy their food, Dracon still felt a little groggy in the morning whenever he rolled out of bed and into the Great Hall. After eating a healthy portion of eggs (just the whites), two strips of crispy bacon, a buttered piece of toast, and a tall glass of orange juice, Dracon headed to Care of Magical Creatures for an early start. It was his favorite class but when it took place during the freezing cold morning hours of winter outside, it created a bit of a distraction. He had spent more time rubbing his hands together than he had taking notes. Luckily for the students, they had been released from class early due to one of the Ravenclaws suffering from near frostbite. The Professor had grudgingly relented but vowed that they would be outside again Thursday, so they should begin to pray for some warm sunlight before turning in for the night.  Unlike some students who took the extra time to spend with friends or catch up on some homework they had neglected over the long holidays, Dracon headed straight for his next class.

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Dracon entered the classroom and wasn’t all too surprised to see he was the first student to arrive. He was just grateful to be in a classroom with a fireplace. The boy could see the fire’s glow from outside the doorway and had hurriedly entered and took a seat near the fireplace. Dracon’s thick wool coat had been no match for the forces of winter, and had certainly done nothing to keep his extremities from freezing. His nose was colored pink and Dracon kept sniffling and rubbing his red hands together under the table. The tips of his ears were a rosy shade after enduring the biting wind. After a few moments near the heat, he had shrugged off his coat and turned in his seat to hang it off the back of his chair. Dracon did the same with his bag after pulling out his quill and necessary note taking instruments. Some other students filtered in and took their places in various seats around the room.
The professor greeted them, as he always had, and levitated a box across the room. Dracon followed the floating rectangle with his eyes across the room and watched it land in front of another student in his row. At a signal from the professor, Dracon stood up, and along with many others, encircled the man and watched as he opened the box. Curious by nature, perhaps Dracon was slightly more eager to see what was inside than others. He was taller than many of the students and luckily for him, it was rather simple to poke and peer over tops of heads. It gave him a nice view of the velvet insides and the careful placement of twelve separate and yet equally foreboding bottles.

"There are twelve sealed poisons in this box."

Poisons – that phrase made Dracon shift his view, trying to look closer at what the professor was lifting up from the box. Dracon had been taking Potions for his N.E.W.Ts since it was a requirement for his dragonologist license. Many potions (and poisons) could be made from dragon parts, and what was more important for someone studying them in the field was to know the proper way to brew a potion for an infected bite, which could sometimes be poisonous when dealing with certain species, or at the least a strong pain endurance potion to drown out the intense pain of losing a limb. Subconsciously, Dracon was already examining the colors to see if he could correctly identify what bubbled inside.

The professor selected one bottle and held it up. The dim lighting cast through the bottle perfectly to reveal a warm dark orange color, on the border of red. The coloring gave it away, but that question wasn’t asked so Dracon listened on to the intense details of consumption. Dracon picked up his parchment and using the empty desk closest to him, leaned down and jotted down some notes as the professor spoke.

"What do you suspect may be the only antidote?"

Bloodroot was a dangerous plant in even moderate doses. The plant itself was hazardous, but to ingest the actual seeds was downright suicidal. It produced complete central nervous system failure even under a careful hand. It was difficult to say what the antidote was. Without a bezoar, there were hundreds of possible antidotes but he had trouble coming up with a particular perfect antidote that fit every single symptom. Dracon had a guess it was something containing mandrake since it was a plant used to absorb many different poisons.

Of course, someone could force the victim to vomit – that would also help.

Fauna huddled around the mysterious box with the other students, watching as Professor Storm unlocked it. She held a roll of parchment and an auto-quill, and blew warm air onto her hands, her fingers still stiff and cold from being outside.

When the Professor opened the box and revealed rows of vials, she leaned forward, thinking they looked like fairy lights bottled in liquid form-

"There are twelve sealed poisons in this box."

Of course they were. She raised her eyebrows as Professor Storm reverently lifted one out of the box. The firelight flickered off the glass.

She had a funny thought that someone must have given the Professor the fancy wooden box, with the vials wrapped in velvet as a holiday gift. And when he'd written his thank-you note, it had sounded something like: 'Thank you very much for the vials of poison. I shall put them to good use and frighten my seventh-year students'.

Fauna planned on telling Lou this later so they could have a good giggle over it. For now, she attempted to look interested, and tried not to feel too discouraged that she likely wouldn't be able to answer his questions. She was starting to regret discontinuing potions after her fifth-year. While she understood a lot of the ingredients and had recognized Bloodroot from Herbology, she didn't know how they mixed together. Fauna had never been good with potions, but then again, she'd always struggled in Defense, too. That was slowly changing.

She scribbled down notes as he described the Bloodroot and its effects, blinking for a moment at the symptom of 'choking on their own vomit'. Fauna decided she'd leave out that lovely detail in her next class update owled home to her grandmother.

The antidote? Fauna glanced at her other classmates automatically. Her first thought was stomach pumping, but that was too muggle-ish. Her second thought was to clear the airway with a charm, like she'd had to do that one time Professor Gunnar had choked on his oatmeal during a foodfight, but that only helped one of the symptoms. It sounded like there was one solution, one antidote, and Fauna didn't know what that was.

"Well," she bit her lip. "You can use 'Anapneo' to clear the airway if someone's vomiting. And there are other charms that help with eyesight. But... those only help the symptoms."

Way to state the obvious! For a moment she wondered why she'd said anything at all, and hoped someone would pipe up with a better idea before the professor responded.

"Well, you can use 'Anapneo' to clear the airway if someone's vomiting. And there are other charms that help with eyesight. But... those only help the symptoms." Fauna contributed.

Ignan fixed her with his pale gaze and contemplated her response. He had really been expecting lots of blank faces rather than lateral thinking and magical first aid suggestions.
"Miss Blake would ensure that the victim could at least breathe as they died, which is quaint. When poisoned with this, you might want to go quickly." He told the class, keeping a steady gaze to Fauna's face as he did and smirking ever so slightly at the end.

"The only effective remedy is a potion, which does not keep well once brewed. This is to the poisoners advantage. There is a slim chance that the potion will be fresh, or to hand. However, there is an incantation you can call upon in magical emergencies when help is far from reach. With caution - bleeding and the likes are not suitable - your victim will still bleed to death, but we shall cover that another time." He waved a hand and stepped back a pace, indicating the closely bunched students should make a little space.

"So note the only effective antidote to this poison is a potion, but to buy time, the body can be put into a frozen state, much like being petrified. The incantation for that particular spell centres around the root sopor." Wand in his hand, Storm lightly held the other end of it between his fingertips.

"Without wands first, repeat after me." Storm noticed a few smirks. 'Repeat after me' hadn't been heard too often since their third year.
"Sopor."
.. .. "Sopor."
"Again."
.. .. "Sopor."
"Sopor excessum."
.. .. "Sopor excessum."
"Sopor excessum lethargus quies."
.. .. "Sopor excessum lethargus... quies."
"Sopor excessum lethargus quies."
.. .. "Sopor excessum lethargus... quies."

"The wand movement is as follows:"

Storm raised his wand and demonstrated how the first three words of the incantation formed a backwards Z to the caster, or a Z shape to a watcher, across the body, and then a firm but not abrupt wrist flick away from the body at shoulder height. He demonstrated once more and requested one try without a wand and then with.

Encouragingly the seventh years seem to have all progressed quite far with their wand techniques since he had taken over. Then again, he'd prodded more ribs and tapped at more wrists in the last term than he'd have liked to, so thank Merlin it was paying off.

"A volunteer." He requested, to test who was brave enough.

Classes back in session, life winding down to normal, she didn’t actually have to be out of bed before DADA unless she wanted breakfast - which she hadn’t today.  She’d spent most of the morning trying to perfect her wand work. It was important that she not seem as though she hadn’t picked her wand up all break. Things like that mattered to Professor Storm. He didn’t have pets, as such, but she was constantly trying to please him. She pushed herself to be the best, and then pushed herself a little further.

Slipping into the DADA room she joined the small cluster of students around the Professor, naturally falling in beside Drake though for the next few hours they’d hardly take note of one another outside of any examples they made. Despite the whole couple-but-not-really status they shared once in a classroom Liviana was too focused to giggle and twitter over him or pass notes. Especially not on a day where they happened to be handing deadly poisons.

She was pleased. It wasn’t often that she got to work with two subjects that she dearly loved. Though perhaps she shouldn’t have loved a lessons about poisons quite so much. With Dazmond doing the kind of work she did…Liviana had more than basic knowledge of antidotes - just in case. Of course she’d never had use a spell - so the lesson would be new and challenging at least. When the professor asked for volunteers she looked to her right and arched an eyebrow at Dracon. This was right up his alley, without a doubt - though he did happen to look half frozen at that particular moment.

Dracon had looked to his left when he felt someone brush against his arm and saw Liviana’s side profile, looking curiously at the professor and his nest of poisons on the table. One of the things about Liviana that he liked was that she didn’t bother him during class. They were all business in the classroom. She kept to her space and he kept to his, only conversing when they were allowed or working in a partnership together. No other girl had ever been that way. They would be poking his side right now, or whispering into his ear – and he didn’t put up with that. There wasn’t anyone allowed in between him and his marks. He did like Liviana, a lot, especially after the intimate time they spent together over break, but it was time for class and he was thankful she felt the same way.

A frozen state – Dracon wondered what a frozen state would have been like. All the students backed up and gave one another some room and practiced their hand motion and wandless wand work. Then the professor asked something that was like music to his ears: a volunteer. Asking a seventeen year old student to drink a poisonous substance was not a popular teaching method. The chances of actual death were high since there were several very real risk factors. For example, a person’s height and weight mattered during a poisoning – what if Dracon wasn’t heavy enough to sustain the amount given and died before the professor had time to act? What if the professor’s plan had to do with a student performing the curing and not himself? He trusted Professor Storm, apparently with his life, but there were a lot of faces (all of the, pretty much) who he wouldn’t have trusted with his barn owl Chester’s dropping removal, let alone preventing his horrible and burning death. It was only someone who was probably a little nutters that was going to volunteer to be poisoned. Only someone who lacked all his senses was going to put up their hand and ask the grim reaper for a helping of untimely death and a side of excruciating pain. 

Dracon looked at Liviana and found her looking right at him, her eyebrow arched and a knowing look glittered in her eyes. He smiled widely. They both knew what was about to happen next. Dracon’s hand raised just slightly, enough to be noticed without over doing it, and with a confident tone, he said, “Professor Storm, Ah would like to volunteer.”

Ah well, he was still kind of cold anyways.

“Professor Storm, Ah would like to volunteer.”

Dracon spoke up, and Storm was glad the Slytherin had been brave enough. He had been ambiguous about how this was going to pan out, so no doubt many of the class were expecting the volunteer to be poisoned. He might find some of them irritating, but he wouldn't actively seek to poison them.

"Towler, good. Please put your wand away." He instructed, "and come here."

The Professor used his arm to move some of the nearer students away, ensuring a clear patch of the floor around them. When Dracon stood opposite him, he looked the young man in the eye, and then with a fluid movement, spoke the incantation and moved his wand.

Dracon's eyelids dropped immediately, and his knees collapsed. Ignan stepped forwards suddenly to catch the student, who like any unconscious person was a lot heavier than a conscious person with tension in their muscles. There was an intake of breath from several of the observing students at how quickly it had happened.

In a matter of seconds, Ignan had lowered the motionless Dracon to the floor, and gently turned him onto his back. Satisfied that the spell had put him under safely, he looked up from where he was crouched beside the student and addressed the class.

"Dracon has entered a deeply unconscious state where his body is frozen and its processes are slowed. The body should not remain like this more than twelve hours, twenty four at most and not left unattended. Unlike a full body freeze, Tower's limbs remain mobile." He demonstrated by lifting Dracon's wrist from the floor and down again. "Also his colour remains, although pale. The body cools, and if fever was previously there but leaves the victim, it is a good indication that they are under the spell. The body does not cool entirely, but lowers to a temperature colder than the natural." He placed the back of his fingers and hand on Dracon's forehead lightly to confirm such.

"As you saw, the process was extremely swift, and if poisoned, it is likely the victim is already sat down or in some state of collapse." He reached over and gently pulled Dracon onto his side, "never leave them alone, there is a possibility that the poison may already have progressed far enough to take hold while in this state, and also they are very vulnerable, completely unaware of what is happening. Keep them well insulated. Towler will feel as if he has woken from a deep sleep of only a few moments."

Satisfied he had illustrated such, and not keen to let Dracon get too cold on the classroom floor, Ignan drew his wand once more and uttered the spell to wake the Slytherin.

"Suscitatio excito."

Fauna's face flushed and she glanced down at the professor's response to her suggestion, regretting speaking up. Mainwaring would have never acted so condescending, and for a moment she missed the former professor, and wished he was still around to see her putting more of an effort in Defense.

She listened again as Professor Storm described the freezing technique used to slow down the poison, following his lead and mimicking the wand movement. When he asked for a volunteer, she stayed quiet and avoided looking at him. No way was she going to volunteer for more embarrassment!

Luckily, Dracon offered, and for a horrifying moment Fauna thought the professor was going to ask him to drink the poison, but instead, he only demonstrated the petrification spell on him. It was still a bit unnerving though, to see a fellow student rendered unconscious.

She took notes on the Professor's observations, comparing in her head how the spell differed from Petrificus Totalus. This spell caused the person to go into a sleeping state, where as with Petrificus you were still aware of what was happening, just unable to move. Body temperature stayed the same with Petrificus Totalus as well. She repressed a shudder, remembering the time Vienna had petrified her during their fight and the ghoul had almost gobbled her up.

After he woke up the Slytherin, she glanced up from her notes. "Does the spell wear off after a certain time period, like Petrificus Totalus, or does it take longer?" Fauna wondered. She knew he'd said a person shouldn't be in that frozen state for more than 24 hours, but she was curious about the effects. "And is it mostly used for, well, stopping poison, and not in a... duel setting?"

The questions were out before she could second-guess herself, and Fauna hoped he wouldn't look at her like she was stupid again. She'd only ever heard of Stupefy and Petrificus Totalus, which seemed like the go-to spells for stopping someone in their tracks, and could see how a deep sleep caused by this spell would be dangerous if it wasn't reversed in enough time.

Professor Storm was an apt teacher, and very gifted in spell work - this knowledge, however, did not stop Liviana’s heart from skittering as Dracon went under. There was an uncomfortable knot in her stomach and her heart rate slowed. It took every ounce of control she had not to rush to his side. Obviously dating one of the most ambitious boys in Slytherin would have it’s draw backs.

Emotional attachment made you react rather than think. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with this new found realization other than to bite her cheek hard and scribble notes on her parchment. She had a vague knowledge of the spell given the nature of Dazmond’s work, it was more advanced than anything she had ever tried but she’d read about it in some of her sister’s books.

Shifting her dark eyes up as Fauna spoke again, Liviana tilted her head to one side. She didn’t mind the Hufflepuff much, they shared several classes and were in WAA together…but she wondered sometimes if the girl had any filter at all. It’s said there are no stupid questions - but she wasn’t exactly batting a thousand today with her suggestions. In this particular instance Fauna’s questions seemed silly.

The professor had just stated that the victim shouldn’t be left for more than 24 hours. Common sense, given what Liviana knew about anatomy told her that if left the person in question would either already be dead from the poisoning, or alternately if someone had just cast the spell on them there would be severe tissue damage forming due to loss of blood flow, proper oxygen, and the cold.

Complications were a given after more than twenty-four hours because even wizard’s bodies weren’t meant to withstand that kind of torture. While it was true people survived avalanches and the like because of the cold - with brain damage rather the death, it didn’t seem likely to Liviana that more than a day in such a state could be good for anyone. Of course she was mostly focused on Drake and wishing he’d move already. It was hard to focus on the lesson with him just lying there.

Satisfied he had illustrated such, and not keen to let Dracon get too cold on the classroom floor, Ignan drew his wand once more and uttered the spell to wake the Slytherin.

"Suscitatio excito."

A voice with a question piped up from behind, Fauna again, though he was not displeased she had the courage to ask.

"Does the spell wear off after a certain time period, like Petrificus Totalus, or does it take longer? And is it mostly used for, well, stopping poison, and not in a... duel setting?"

Still crouched beside Dracon as he woke, the Professor straightened up a little by resting his elbow on one knee.

"It would degrade if the caster was not proficient, or other spells tampered with it." He explained, "But leaving them longer than twenty-four hours would either mean they died of poison eventually reaching the heart, or of complications. The spell is swift, but unfortunately without its crude methods. Cheating death is never without its consequences. Mr Towler however, will feel no ill consequences for such a short sleep."

Creaking to his feet once again and his head reappearing amongst the group of students, he addressed Fauna's second question.
"It is a medicinal aid spell rather than one to be used in duel, and besides, in such an active situation, the recipient of the incantation is likely to resist. Its length means the likelihood of interruption is high, and its effects inefficient on such an alert person. In official duels, it would not be permissible for use, and it would be a pretty weak stance to take in desperation."

He clasped his hands together, and cleared his throat.

"This incantation is best used on still conscious but incapacitated victims. Conscious people can tell you when they started feeling ill, what they have eaten. Then you can make a decision on whether you have a correct antidote or a potion based stem that will reduce the speed or severity of the poison. Unconscious victims, there is a possibility they have already gone too far gone to save, though using the incantation could buy you time while you question onlookers, search nearby or study things like the smell of their breath and residue on their lips for indications as to which poison was used."

Turning slightly to regard the students, and to indicate a change from listening to actually performing spells, he instructed their action.

"Pair up, and practise. Do be sure to catch your partner or cushion their fall. Otherwise they are unlikely to be kind to you on waking."

Defending against the Dark Arts was a complex and diverse realm indeed and DADA was no different.  Though Professor Storm was certainly a large change from the previous professor...he was talented and knowledgeable.  Chance was always the most serious and the most reserved in this class as it was the one he considered most vital and useful.  Whether Storm knew this or not was uncertain, but Chance was intently listening to his every word.

Potions and herbology were by no means Chance's strong suit, which was in direct conflict with his aptitude for DADA...but this meant the Irish Gryffindor had to focus all the more.

It was at the invitation to partner up that Chance eased on over to Fauna Blake and gave her a playful nudge with his elbow, before smiling at her.  It was rare that Chance ever had such a frequent partner in class assignments as Fauna, especially since their infamous egg project for Care of Magical Creatures.  Chance leaned to whisper in Fauna's ear.

"Don't let 'im get to ya.  Yer doin' great, lass."

Chance was always trying to encourage Fauna it seemed.  And now it was time for them to practice on one another.

"Ladies first...?"

Chance gestured with a faint bow as he curled his arm before his midsection.  And now came the "fun" part....

Grace's efforts in DADA that morning could be described as nothing more than pitifully halfhearted. She had entered class and quietly taken her usual seat, but unlike her usual self would, she barely spoke a word to any of her classmates. Not George. Not Emmy. Not Quinn. Not Fauna. Not Chance. She didn't even make snarky comments or glare in the direction of the Slytherin contingent. She just took out her note taking materials and patiently waited for Professor Storm to begin.

Even when Storm started the lesson, Grace could not help appearing disinterested. The saddest part about her behavior was that she actually liked Professor Storm and normally found his lessons engaging. She wanted to do well in the class not just because she had to for her future career goals but because he pushed them all to want to perform well, even if he did make comments that embarrassed them if they said something out of the ordinary or silly.

But on this day, Grace was listening to what Professor Storm said as well as the comments being made by her classmates, but unfortunately, she didn't have it in her to add to the discussion. She took to writing down the whole dialogue practically word for word in her notes. She hoped that by doing so, she might be able to recreate the lesson in some form later on, when she was less preoccupied by the thoughts of her homelife.

Her stomach seemed to drop from within her as the discussion moved on to the effects of bloodroot. For a moment, her hand clenched her quill tighter before she realized that if she wasn't careful, she would break it.

The strength of Grace's feelings about the day's topic was lessoned somewhat when she heard Professor Storm's comment in response to something Fauna had said. Grace flashed her friend a supportive smile before returning to her own inner world.

She didn't really want to learn anymore about the subject and she especially didn't want to talk about something being petrified. She moved through the sopor instruction mechanically and it briefly occurred to her that in doing so, she would be horrible at performing the task in the future should the need arise. But she was desperately hoping the need never would.

Much to her dislike, that seemed to be the direction in which the class was headed. It filled Grace with dread and her shoulders sagged with the weight of that, especially when Dracon volunteered to be the professor's guniea pig, so to speak. Grace wasn't best friends with Dracon. Anyone  with half a brain would know that by watching any of their interactions throughout the years. But Grace would never wish him ill.

She did not want to volunteer. She didn't want to know what it felt like to be petrified or close to death. And she didn't want to sit there and witness it either. But her widened eyes became glued to Dracon's figure throughout the entire process and did not leave it until her classmate was revived.

Grace's face went pale as the professor suggested that they pair up and practice.

Then, without so much as a word to anyone and without even picking up her things, Grace Eddy bolted for the door and left the DADA classroom.

Fauna was pleasantly surprised to find that the professor answered her questions without sarcasm or looking annoyed. When Professor Storm told them to pair up, she glanced at Grace automatically, but couldn't seem to catch her eye, and then felt a friendly nudge on her arm and looked up, distracted.

"Oh, hi," she grinned at Chance, cheeks flushing a bit at the compliment. He often said things that made her feel good about herself.

And Chance was certainly a reliable, fun partner. She knew if one of them made a mistake, they'd just laugh it off and continue practicing.

"Are you sure?" She warned him, amused, when he suggested 'ladies first' and did a little bow. "Alright, but I think I'll cast a cushioning charm first, because..."

Fauna trailed off as she watched Grace bolt from the classroom. Grace had been quiet all week, and Fauna hadn't had the opportunity to talk to her. She shared a concerned look with Chance and then hesitantly piped up, "Professor? Should I... go after her?"

Okay, Dracon admitted he was caught off guard when the professor in front of him waved his wand before he could speak a full sentence in confusion. He had been looking forward to getting poisoned, honestly, and felt a little foolish to find himself at the end of a spell instead. Dracon’s brow wrinkled with mild confusion and his mouth opened. “Wha-,“ was all that came out before Dracon’s eyes rolled and he collapsed towards the floor. Unknown to him, the professor cushioned his floor as he caught the falling seventeen year old in his arms and allowed him a gentle release. To Dracon, at this point in time, it wouldn’t have mattered either way. Students had approached him after class to ask what it felt like and he could only scratch his head and shrug. It hadn’t felt like anything. It hadn’t even felt like he was suddenly overcome with exhaustion, he was just up on his two feet and then flat on his back the next moment. While he was indeed frozen, his body unresponsive, Dracon could remember the darkness behind his eyelids and swimming inside of his own conscious – but that was something hard to describe. Every time he tried to remember more about it, like a fleeting dream, more details would slip from his grasp and he’d remember less and less. What he was sure of was that he wasn’t asleep, but it was something akin to being placed on slow motion in a pitch black room. Time slowly lost meaning, the few seconds he spent as a test subject seemed to turn into hours. He had been panicked a little when he realized he was going to miss practice on Thursday.

Imagine his surprise when he found himself staring up at the ceiling of his Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. How long had he been under? It felt like hours, but as his eyes adjusted to the lights and struggled to focus on the professor over top of him, Dracon knew it had only been a few minutes if not less time than that. It made sense how a spell like this would stop any poison in it’s tracks – literally. Dracon felt wonderful, his muscles felt like he had a deep tissue massage, and his body ached for some stimulation. He could run ten miles, fly to China and back, or at the least have some private fun with Liviana. Despite how he may have felt, his body still had to catch up and with help from the professor, eased himself off his back into a sitting position. There was someone talking…

He rubbed his face, trying to awaken.

It was the best sleep he had ever had; more like a mini-coma than a sleep. “…ne too far gone to save, though using the incantation could buy you time while you question onlookers, search nearby or study things like the smell of their breath and residue on their lips for indications as to which poison was used." The professor was standing up now, talking to Fauna, a Hufflepuff in his year. Dracon gave a long stretch and nearly groaned in relief. Damn, he felt good. Dracon got to his feet in time to hear the professor instruct them in to get into pairs. Perhaps he felt a little out of body still because he hadn’t even noticed Liviana placing her hand on his shoulder and telling him to pair up with her.

“Hm? Oh, yeah… all right,” he said quietly, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand once more as she pulled him out of the middle of the room and to their own area near the window. It was then that Grace Eddy bolted from the room, fleeing like a dementor was on her tail. Dracon was moving rather slow and she almost collided shoulders with him as she charged past.

He looked curiously after her, barely resisting the urge to tell her to watch where she was going in front of the professor. Dracon simply narrowed his gaze and shook his head and got into position in front of Liviana.

Muggleborns.

Storm caught Grace heading for the door out of the corner of his eye. In honesty, the girl hadn't looked at all focused, and he had declined to issue her a sharp word earlier. Now, as he saw the young witch dash out of the door, he was glad he'd made that unconscious decision earlier, rather than give her an excuse to make a scene in response.

Her exit had not gone unnoticed by the other students, many of whom paused in conversation, exchanged looks with each other and shot glances in his direction, wondering what he'd do.
"Professor? Should I... go after her?" Fauna asked. The two girls were particularly fond of each other, Ignan knew.

"No. Nothing I teach in this time is optional, and to be missed. Your classmate's decision to leave before time is not your business until after I dismiss this class." He responded to Fauna in clipped tones. "Cease wasting time gawping the lot of you!" He snapped, with a frown, making a mental note to track Grace down the moment she stepped into his gaze at mealtimes later, to issue her with a detention and repeat of the lesson. He was not going to stop Fauna from leaving, but her leaving would only worsen the resulting detention for both of them.

He turned to Dracon and Liviana, who looked as disapproving at Eddy's exit as he felt.
"Towler, you missed much of the questions from your classmates while you were under. Wiedman, please recap for him at some point during your practise." With a nod to them both, he turned again, to assist and advise the other students as they attempted the incantation on each other with varying degrees of success.