#wuam

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It had been very excitable, and it seems like the other students are still riding the high of the event. Professor Tyler takes longer than usual to call the classroom to attention, sighing greatly as he has to reprimand a chatty Slytherin to their seat.

“Alright, settle down,” he says, still waving people to their desks. “Today is an important discussion, so I don’t want to hear any side conversations, hmm? No need to take notes,” he adds after hearing the rustle of blank scrolls.

“This project,” he starts, tapping the board after everyone rushes to their seats, “will last the entire year.” He chuckles at the groans that result. “We won’t start until the hols, but if any of you want to get a headstart, you’re free to begin earlier.”

Professor Tyler waves his wand, and strips of paper begin to float out of the glass jar on his desk. “This is a partner project—” more groans “—and these slips will decide what potion you’re assigned.”

The students watch their fate, etched onto slips of white paper, hover before their eyes as Professor Tyler explains the premise of their project. It’s split into two parts, the potion-making and the presentation. Each pair must alter the formula of their assigned potion to change its effects, with the stipulation that the outcome must be recognizable as a variation of the initial potion. After the deadline, each pair must present their potion to the class, detailing what changes they’d made, their experimentation process, and a demonstration of said potion.

“I don’t expect success from all of you, but your presentation must be thorough in order to receive full credit.”

Professor Tyler tells them to move to their stations with their partner. Marinette does so with a looming sense of anticipation. It’s an ambitious project, which isn’t exactly the cause for her doubt— ah, there it is, she thinks, as her partner sits beside her with a scowl. She hopes they can learn to work together eventually, considering how much of their grade this project makes up. Marinette offers him a tentative smile. She receives a blank stare in return.

After a few moments of awkward silence in which the rest of the students settle down, Professor Tyler distributes the slips. It floats in front of Marinette, and she takes it from the air, opening the folded slip. Her jaw drops.

Marinette blinks and refocuses her eyes. She looks back, staring at the Amortentia scrawled on the surface.

“What is it,” Damian demands, and she’s too entrenched in her dread to react to his rudeness. Her life has got to be some kind of joke.

“Oh,” he says, the vowel containing more emotion than anything else she’s heard him say. At least they can agree on something.

·

Marinette is still reeling the next day. Unfortunately, Felix is at Quidditch practice, so she can’t distract herself from the cliché rom-com her life has turned into. Oh, what she’d give to return to her favorite sport—though she no longer minds her transfer, it’s still disappointing that she hadn’t gotten a chance to try out for the team.

She leaves the library after some preliminary research for the potions project, having written eleven inches of notes already in a haphazard scrawl. Maybe she’ll head to the Great Hall next?

Marinette strolls the halls leisurely, glancing at the paintings that cover the walls and the intricate columns that decorate the school. Now that she’s more accustomed to the school, she doesn’t mind taking her time to admire the architecture. Most people are in class, anyways, so she doesn’t have to worry about crowds of students frantically marching to their next class. As she turns the corner, however, a familiar mop of dark hair enters her field of vision.

“Jon?” she calls hesitantly, then feels immediate dread set in. Boy, it’d be really embarrassing if it wasn’t him. Imagine how dumb the other person would think she was, and knowing her luck, she’d realize she actually had a class with them, and she’d remember this moment every time she saw their face…

“Mari!” 

Jon turns around and beams at her. He looks to be in quite the upbeat mood, but she’s found that friendly seems to be his default state. After his greeting, however, he glances around cautiously and beckons her closer with one hand.

“Hey, do you want some food?” he whispers. A strange thing to be secretive about, but because she grew up in a bakery, Marinette’s answer to that question would never be no.

·

Turns out Jon’s idea of food is a painting of a fruit bowl in one of Hogwarts’ numerous underground corridors.

“Are you going to do some magic and make this fruit bowl come to life?” Marinette quips. Jon smirks instead of responding and… tickles the pear?

“I take it back. Are you on a euphoria potion?”

She considers rallying him back to his common room, but before she can act, the pear transforms into a doorknob right before her eyes. Maybe she’s the one on a euphoria potion.

“Go ahead,” Jon prompts, and she levels him a suspicious look before she cautiously puts a hand on the knob and pushes the door open.

The door opens to a high-ceilinged room made of stone—Marinette spots a massive fireplace at the end, counters stacked with pots and pans and utensils. The entire kitchen, presumably, is milling about with house-elves, save for an area to the side with long tables similar to the Great Hall.

While she’d been staring, Jon had already stepped past the painting and into the room. “Come in,” he beckons. The door swings shut behind Marinette, and she subconsciously leans closer to him in her bafflement.

“Master Kent,” the house-elf who runs up to them squeaks. “What can Mipsey do for you?” The elf’s charming dress flounces after her, the cream fabric dotted with pink flowers.

“What’s on the menu today?” Jon peers over the crowd of house-elves, looking at the large pan they had pulled from of the fireplace. “Cornish pasties?”

“Quite intelligent, Master Kent!” Mipsey praises. Her excitement has Marinette mirroring Jon’s wide smile, but she still feels a bit of nervousness. None of her friends in Beauxbatons had a house-elf, and Chloe hadn’t exactly been her friend. The blonde girl treated all her ‘hired help’ the same: badly.

“Come on, let’s sit!” Jon gestures Marinette over to the tables. “Mipsey would kill me if I put my dirty hands on that tray.”

“Master Kent!” the elf scolds.

Once his laughter clears up, Jon explains the situation to Marinette. “I come here every once in a while to meet snacks with one of my friends. Right, I hope you don’t mind if she joins us. I think you’ll get along pretty well though. Her name is—”

And of course, in dramatic fashion, said friend opens the door right at that moment.

“Maps!”

·

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@astoriaandromeda @avengerthewarrior @bluesimani @enternalempires @ev-cupcake @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @heart-charming @idontwannaexistsopleasekillme @iloontjeboontje @jayjayspixiepop @jalaluvsu @jeminiikrystal @jumpingjoy82 @kitsunebell @maskedpainter @moongoddesskiana @nathleigh @no-username2544 @phis-corner @too0bsessedformyowngood @ultimatetornshipper

He bows in a rather dramatic fashion, using a grand sweeping motion that causes the students at either side of him to yelp and hold onto their ink lest it topple to the ground. His robes, lined with Gryffindor red, sweep the ground as he finishes his flourish. Claude seems quite proud of his introduction, but Allegra rolls her eyes at him, stepping in between them and obstructing Marinette’s sight of the other student.

“Ignore him. Claude is the other sixth year in this class. He received a Poor on last year’s O.W.L.”

Marinette isn’t sure what kind of face she makes at that, but it causes the corners of Allegra’s lips to twitch up.

“Don’t worry. As long as you don’t sleep through the class like he did last year, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Hey!” Claude, who had somehow managed to squeeze next to Allegra, looks affronted, but he doesn’t deny the statement. “You can’t blame me for taking a nap every now and then. This class is basically designed to lull you to sleep. Anyways, why would I need to pay attention this year either? I have you now! You’ll help me, won’t you?”

Allegra crosses her arms and turns her head to the side, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

“…Won’t you?”

After shaking his head rapidly as if to rid his periphery of a nasty fly, Claude turns to Marinette and winks. “Don’t worry. She likes to act all cold, but she always helps me out. Just stick with us and you’ll do great!”

She doesn’t have time to respond to that, because as soon as Claude finishes his sentence, the professor walks in.

There’s not much to the class—History of Magic just is, and she thinks it’s the only topic that’ll feel exactly like it had at Beauxbatons—boring. She’s sure Professor Parris is a good teacher and that it’s not exactly easy educating a whole class on such a rich history, but aside from the few interesting parts, it’s not a class most students are enthused to go to.

She’s grateful that she’s not the only odd one out, however—instead of being the only Slytherin in a class of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, she has company in the form of an exasperated sixth-year Ravenclaw and lively Gryffindor who seem to be much closer than they act.

·

Hogwarts’ Transfiguration teacher is a green-skinned man by the name of Professor J'onn J'onnzz; it’s quite fitting that he just so happens to be the Slytherin Head of House as well.

While Marinette is sure he’s a perfectly fine teacher—or at least, that’s what she repeats to herself—his perpetual frown does not bode well with her lack of inclination towards Transfiguration. This isn’t to say that she’s terrible at it; in fact, she’s improved massively over the last few years. She’s just not confident in her ability to flourish under an ever-present glower.

Thankfully, that’s a problem for Future Marinette—today’s class is all about the history of Switching Spells. She should have known better than to think that the subject of history would be left behind when she wasn’t in Professor Parris’ class.

·

Professor Isley has the brightest red hair of anyone Marinette’s ever seen. It’s even more vibrant against her flowing verdant robes, embroidered ivy creeping up the sleeves.

As she holds a potted plant up to the class, Marinette catches a glimpse of vines wrapped around her wrist, disappearing into the sleeves of her robe. Her Herbology professor is either very dedicated to her role of teaching students about magical plants, or there’s some other reason for her unique choice of accessory.

She doesn’t have any reason to dwell on Professor Isley’s wardrobe, besides admiring the fine craftsmanship, so she spends the rest of the hour focusing on the topic and trying to get a feel for the class dynamic.

Most students keep to themselves, busy scribbling down notes and studying their plants. Professor Isley seems generally helpful yet stern to anyone who messes around, a conclusion Marinette draws after seeing her give a strongly-worded reprimand to a classmate whose plant had been wailing from being tossed around too roughly.

As long as the rest of the curriculum isn’t full of screaming plants, she predicts that it’ll be a relaxing class.

·

“Psst. What are we doing again?”

Marinette places her Glumbumble back in its compact habitat and turns to the student sitting on her right, a short Hufflepuff with a… pair of antennae on his head?

She tries to glance at the protrusion discreetly, not wanting to offend. Even in a world of magic, it’s not exactly common to see people with animal parts. It makes her curious.

“Pretty cool, right? The name’s Garfield, but you can call me Gar. I’m a metamorphmagus.”

It’s not much information, per se, but it still leaves Marinette winded. “Gar” punctuates his last statement by transforming his nose into a pig’s snout, crossing his eyes and pointing to it proudly. “See?”

The entire thing is endearingly goofy, and it prompts a smile from her. “I’m Marinette. And to answer your question, we’re supposed to be preparing the Glumbumbles for treacle extraction.”

“What? Aww. I wanted to play with them. Hey, little guy,” he says, bringing his face close to the glass container. His Glumbumble’s buzzing sounds awfully angry. It flits back and forth, wings beating the air indignantly.

“Garfield. I hope you aren’t distracting our new student too much?”

“Professor Baker!” Gar spins around and gives their teacher a sheepish grin. Marinette hadn’t heard him walk up, but the way he looms over them from their seat in the grass seems far more intimidating than his initial impression. She lets out a nervous laugh.

“If Garfield ever gives you too much trouble, don’t be afraid to scold him a little. He has a tendency to distract his classmates.” 

“What? I would never!” Garfield looks affronted, and even a bit betrayed by the exaggerated expression on his face. Professor Baker only hums in response, raising one eyebrow.

“You might want to put your lid back on. Your Glumbumble looks like it’s about to escape,” he says before walking away.

Marinette looks over to Gar squawk and frantically place the flat glass cover in his hand back on the container, just in time to trap the furious creature inside. “Phew. That was close! …So, what should I name him?”

·

By Wednesday, Marinette has fallen into some semblance of a routine.

While her classes are different each day, today’s classes are all ones she’s already gone to, with the exception of Astronomy.

It’s a long trek to the top of the tower, the tallest in the entirety of the Hogwarts Castle, but the view is worth it. Endless sky stretches above them, stars twinkling like scattered diamonds, separated only by a glass dome that Professor Inwudu magics away with a wave of her wand.

Despite the hour, Marinette can’t find it in herself to be tired. Her telescope is stationed a good distance away from the cluster of other fifth years’, and she listens rather than partakes in the quiet chatter around her; however, the splendor and gentle luminescence of Jupiter’s moons keep her engrossed. She’s always loved to look at the stars. They make her feel small—insignificant, even, but in a way that soothes her anxieties. At the end of the day, her minuscule mistakes are just that: minuscule. For a moment, she lets her worries fade away under the soft glow of the moonlight, and she looks upon the next day with hope.

·

Marinette is in Potions the next day when she realized she may have been too hasty in her positivity. She had been completely, utterly wrong—she can’t make this work.

The first two periods of her Thursday schedule had been fine; she’d had Divination with Professor Charity, then spent her free period in the grand Hogwarts Library. With her day going so smoothly, she hadn’t expected anything unexpected to come her way. Perhaps this had been her mistake.

Their assignment is to make the Draught of Living Death, a powerful Sleeping Draught capable of sending the drinking into a deathlike slumber. According to Professor Tyler, it is a difficult brew, one he doesn’t expect to be completed successfully within the period. The rest of the class seems rather dismayed at this news, but Marinette looks forward to the challenge. Even if it doesn’t turn out perfect, she hopes her and her partner’s combined work ethics will lead to a recognizable result.

The steps seem rather simple; as soon as they are dismissed to their workstations, Marinette and Damian agree to split up the preparation of ingredients. Marinette looks through the instructions another time once they gather the necessary materials, quickly reading between the lines. Potions making is rather finicky, as their textbooks like to imply information rather than directly state it, but she rather enjoys piecing together each fragment.

Add the Infusion of Wormwood.

Add the Powdered Root of Asphodel.

Stir twice clockwise.

Add the sloth brain.

Add the Sopophorous bean's juice.

Stir seven times anti-clockwise.

The Sopophorous bean’s juice should be added immediately after the sloth brain, which means it needs to be prepared beforehand. Marinette places the pearly white bean on the cutting board and picks up her dagger, about to extract the juices.

What she does next is entirely innocuous, in her opinion, but it seems to spark offense in her lab partner.

Marinette places the flat side of her dagger against the bean and crushes it to extract the juices, watching the liquid form a small puddle in the middle of the cutting board.

“What are you doing?” The incensed query comes from Damian, who is measuring the Infusion of Wormwood to her right. She nearly nicks her finger in surprise and whirls around to see his brow furrowed disapprovingly. “You're supposed to cut it,” he adds shortly.

“Oh. Well, crushing it gives more juice. That’s how I’ve always done it, at least.”

This response isn’t very satisfactory, judging by how he quickly adopts a scathing expression. “I don’t quite care how you did things in your old school, but things are different here. It doesn’t seem like you’re in France anymore, does it?”

“Excuse me?” Marinette is so taken aback by this comment that she doesn’t even have the capacity to come up with a response. Damian’s brow becomes a little less severe, as if he realizes he’d gone too far.

“Fine. Do what you want,” he sniffs. “If we get a bad grade, you’re dealing with the consequences.” The way he says it implies that he’s confident in his ability to worm his way out of a bad grade, something that’s so positively Chloe that Marinette can’t help but make the comparison.

The rest of her actions are hazy with indignance. She frustratedly measures the Powdered Root of Asphodel, and to her chagrin, she nearly adds too much before Damian stops her midway. It’s a clumsy mistake, one she’d normally never make, but her thoughts are otherwise occupied. She’d always scored top of her class in potions, so she’s quite confident in her knowledge. Damian isn’t privy to this information, as he has no reason to be, and Marinette supposes she’d also be doubtful if someone used an unfamiliar technique while brewing a difficult potion. She’s not fond of his brashness, however, nor of the holier-than-thou attitude that seems to be his instinct.

Somehow, the potion isn’t a complete fail. Professor Baker deems it “remarkably close to excellence” and has them distribute it into bottles for his stores, but it lacks the satisfaction that normally comes with executing a potion to perfection.

Her irritation must be more substantial than she thinks, because Felix’s first sentence after she takes a seat next to him is a drawled, “Who put an erumpent horn in your potion?”

“It’s nothing,” she deflects. Her tone implies anything but that, and Felix gives her a very doubtful look.

“Ugh, fine. It’s just…” She looks around the table to make sure the coast is clear. Damian is sitting, but he’s quite a distance away, talking to her dormmate Maya. She hadn’t known the two were acquainted, but seeing as they’re both Slytherin fifth-years, it makes sense that they’d know each other. Marinette leans closer to Felix and lowers her voice. “I got into a disagreement with my potions partner earlier. I was trying to crush the Sopophorous bean, and he got mad and said something about how ‘we’re not in France anymore,’ which was just plain rude! It’s not like I don’t understand where he was coming from, but he didn’t have to say it like that.”

The volume of her rant had grown louder as she spoke, but thankfully, Damian didn’t seem to hear her.

“Ah, I understand. Who is this partner of yours? Since you’re in sixth-year potions, perhaps I know them.”

“It’s another fifth-year, actually. Damian…” she pauses, trying to recall his last name.

“Wayne?”

“Yeah! That’s the one,” she snaps her fingers.

“That would explain it. He has a tendency to be rather… blunt.”

Marinette groans in response. “I know what you’re going to say—he probably didn’t mean it, you have to be the bigger person, yadda yadda.”

“No, why would I tell you that?” Felix lets out a dignified snort.

Marinette’s fork stops mindlessly pushing around the pasta on her plate as she looks at him in thinly-veiled disbelief.

“Damian is also on the Quidditch team, so I’m well-acquainted with his personality. He can be cantankerous at times, but over the years I’ve come to realize it’s because he doesn’t know how to interact with other people. Much like me, he had a very sheltered upbringing.” Marinette nods in understanding; being friends with Adrien, she’d heard a bit about Felix and how similar their lives had been.

“Just because I understand his behavior doesn’t mean I expect you to put up with his attitude. It’s not my place to dictate how you should react; the most I can do is give you advice. Oh, and if you were being stupid, I would just tell you.”

That last sentence sounds the most like Felix. Marinette smiles.

“...Wow. I don’t know what to say. I’ve never thought about it like that.”

“Thought about what? That disregarding your own feelings isn’t always the solution?”

Maybe Felix is starting to get too discerning. She laughs, not entirely sure why, but she’s starting to feel lighter already. It’s nice to have a friend.

·

1) Lenore Parris is a teacher at Happy Harbor High School in Young Justice! I considered keeping Binns to break the fourth wall but decided not to in the end. I could have had a throwaway line about Marinette being “sure he could have droned his way through a war” or something like that!

2) Pamela Lillian Isley, better known as Poison Ivy—how could I not include her? I hadn’t put much thought into it when I chose her as the Herbology teacher, but now I’m wondering how I can include the other Sirens. I can’t have one without the other two!

3) Glumbumbles look a lot like bees, but they’re grey and produce a treacle that induces melancholy when ingested. The treacle is often used as an antidote to the hysteria induced by eating Alihosty leaves. Glumbumbles feed on nettles and nest in dark places, and they’re known to infest beehives, which is disastrous for the production of honey.

4) Buddy Baker, whose superhero alias is Animal Man, protects the force that connects animal life in the DC universe. I’m sure the reason I chose him to teach Care of Magical Creatures is self-explanatory, but I actually made the decision a minute before typing this. Leslie Thompkins was my original choice, a name most Batman fans might recognize. She was a close friend of Thomas Wayne, Bruce’s father, and ran a clinic for criminals and drug addicts in Gotham. I felt as though I could have found someone more studied for the role, however, so I chose something a bit more on-the-nose instead.

5) Nimue Inwudu, also known as Madame Xanadu, is a founding member of the Demon Knights and Justice League Dark. She is a sorceress and soothsayer, so I thought this prophetic ability would be well-suited to astronomy.

6) Technically, Astronomy takes place during the afternoon on Wednesdays for fifth years and at midnight for first years. I didn’t think it was particularly important to keep this detail exact, however, and I personally prefer the ambiance of a late-night class!

7) Charity, full name unknown, is a fortune teller that briefly appears in the Starman comics. She is an ally of Starman and has the ability of precognition, which I thought would make her perfect for the role of Divination teacher.

I didn’t include a mention of meals because I didn’t want it to be too tedious, but Marinette has lunch after Transfiguration and before Herbology! I actually spent hours working out a schedule for her and some of the other characters, so let me know if you want to see it! I probably didn’t need to spend eight hours hashing out the exact times she’d have class, but I guess it’s too late for that. It does make planning everything much easier!

“It’s Nice to Have a Friend” by Taylor Swift popped into my head as I was writing the last few sentences, so that’s why it’s the closing line. I haven’t listened to it in a while, but I’ve had Maggie Lindemann’s Suckerpunch album on repeat since it came out. What songs have you all been listening to lately?

·

PERMANENT TAGLIST @astoriaandromeda @avengerthewarrior @bluesimani @enternalempires @ev-cupcake @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @heart-charming @idontwannaexistsopleasekillme @iloontjeboontje @jayjayspixiepop @jalaluvsu @jeminiikrystal @jumpingjoy82 @kitsunebell @maskedpainter @moongoddesskiana @nathleigh @no-username2544 @phis-corner @too0bsessedformyowngood @ultimatetornshipper

Before she knows it they’re back in the dungeon, standing in front of the arched door that leads to her second morning class, potions. Marinette thanks Allegra again for taking time out of her day to show her around, and the older girl’s flat expression softens as she gives her a nod.

Once Marinette sees her leave, she takes a deep breath, smoothing out her robes and trying to calm her nerves. It’s just a new school; no big deal. Having to learn the customs of the wizarding world had been arguably more difficult. Except what if the teacher hates her for being late, and she trips when trying to walk to her seat, and everyone laughs at her—

Marinette severs that train of thought before she can manage to spiral even more and puts her hand on the doorknob. There’s no turning back now.

݁

The first thing Marinette sees when she opens the door are faces.

They’re all staring at her from their desks, but unlike the mocking expressions she’d conjured in her head, the majority look impassive. She might even say bored for the student in the back right who has their head rested on their chin and doesn’t even look like they’ve noticed her entrance.

Her professor, standing in front of a large blackboard next to a round wooden desk, is also looking at her, but after a second a rather large smile spreads across his face. Marinette shifts under the attention but attempts to show a modicum of enthusiasm, plastering a hesitant smile on her face and waving at him with a “hello!”

The professor seems more than happy to speak up on her behalf and breaks the silence with a booming announcement. “You must be Miss Dupain-Cheng! A transfer from Beauxbatons, yes?” Marinette nods, not sure whether to step further into the classroom. She’s left hovering awkwardly by the doorway. “Professor Tyler is the name. I went to Beauxbatons once, when I was studying to become a Potions Master. Now, I don’t know about the education, but the crêpes were stellar!” He laughs to himself raucously, and Marinette can see the students exchanging glances as if they’re still not used to his eccentricity. “Well, what are you waiting for? Have a seat, have a seat.”

There’s a singular unoccupied desk at the back left corner of the classroom, and her peers have the decency to nudge their bags aside to clear a path for her.

“Now, where were we,” he mutters. “Essence of Insanity! What can you tell me about it?”

Marinette starts pulling parchment from her bag as he calls on students, half-listening as she rummages through to find her ink and quill.

“It’s green,” someone on the other side of the classroom says.

“Correct! Five points to Gryffindor.”

A few more students speak up, adding information like it should only be taken in small doses and it uses beetle eyes. Blech. That last one prompts a laugh from Professor Tyler, and once he gives points to their respective houses, he poses a question to the class. “Does anyone knows its effect?” Without skipping a beat, he looks right at her. “Why don’t we ask Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

Marinette, who is in the process of dipping her quill, freezes mid-action like someone’s cast an Immobulus on her. She hadn’t expected to be put on the spot like this, especially because there are other students with their hands raised. By now, they’ve turned to look at her. She wracks her brain furiously, trying to refer back to the reading she’d done in preparation for Hogwarts and to lessen the workload she’d have from catching up.

“It causes someone to make irrational decisions,” she says finally, and it comes out less confident than she’d hoped.

“That it does! Five points to Slytherin.” Professor Tyler breezes right back to talking about the Essence of Insanity. Marinette thinks that, based on what she’s seen, he might be a little insane.

݁

They review the brewing process, a procedure that doesn’t take as long as Marinette had expected given the more meticulous analysis done at Beauxbatons, and are dismissed to their stations soon after. As everyone vacates their seats, leaving papers and bags strewn over the front of the classroom, Marinette lingers, not sure if she should follow.

Her peers mill about their cauldrons and the walls of ingredients while Marinette goes straight to the large desk in the back, identical to the one she’d seen by the door. Professor Tyler shows up after a minute, setting his own cauldron on the wooden surface. Before she can get a word in edgewise, he looks right at her and exclaims, “Right! Now, who shall be your partner…” His world trail off into a mutter, and Marinette frowns to herself as he deliberates. Isn’t the Essence of Insanity exceedingly dangerous to brew? Should he really be letting her jump headfirst into something like this without confirming that she’s at least a decent brewer? She supposes Hogwarts is just more laissez-faire than Beauxbatons; a bit strange, but not wholly unwelcome.

Marinette’s eyes sweep across the classroom as she scopes out potential partners; she wonders who Professor Tyler will choose. As she does so, she notices that everyone has a copy of Advanced Potion-Making on the table. Maybe she should have taken hers instead of leaving it in her bag.

“Ah! Mr. Wayne.”

At this declaration, someone pointing their wand at their cauldron looks up. He’s wearing Slytherin robes just like her, and an inscrutable look is plastered on his face. Next to him are two other students, so Marinette guesses that they’d been working in a group of three.

“You’ll be Miss Dupain-Cheng’s partner for the rest of the year.” Her new partner shifts that piercing gaze to her, and she winces silently, hoping he isn’t too upset about the change. The last thing she wants to do is accidentally attract someone’s ire. The glance he’s giving her isn’t looking hopeful, though.

“Excellent, excellent…” Professor Tyler mutters. “And you’re both fifth years! Remarkable, that is.” Marinette gives him a smile and joins her partner, who is now moving his supplies to the empty station at the very back of the classroom, right next to the professor’s desk.

“Well, I’m Marinette!” she introduces brightly, smiling at the other fifth year in an attempt trying to salvage the situation.

“Damian,” he says curtly, and goes right back to fiddling with the cauldron.

Okay, so clearly not a people person. That’s okay, though; some of her old friends hadn’t been either. Marinette opts to grab her book so she can do something besides standing around uselessly, but before she can get even a pace away, a terse voice stops her.

“Where are you going?”

That statement is said with more palpable hostility than the first, and Marinette tries not to feel offended by the accusatory tone.

“I was just about to get my book.”

“Don’t.”

She frowns. “O…kay?”

Damian’s intention becomes clear when he wordlessly pushes his book to the center. Marinette gives him a slight smile, pleasantly surprised, but he only looks away in response and clicks his tongue against his teeth.

After quickly checking the pages, she grabs the necessary ingredients from the supply cupboard, wrinkling her nose at the frog brains. They get to work right away, measuring ingredients on the brass scales and adjusting the temperature of the cauldron. They don’t say much to one another—not for lack of trying on Marinette’s part—but she finds that they work well anyway.

Soon enough, they’re almost done, and she finds herself checking the book for the last step:

Part 2, step two

Add the dried dandelion root.

Heat for 30 seconds at a high temperature.

Stir 7 times, clockwise.

Wave your wand to complete the potion.

Marinette slowly pours in the root she’d ground in the mortar and pestle, and Damian flicks his wand to increase the heat. The flame burns bright, and after thirty seconds Marinette stirs the potion seven times as instructed. With each rotation of her want, the shimmering lilac dulls, and with the seventh stir, it’s turned into a bright, acid green. It looks exactly like the book describes, and Marinette feels a burst of pride.

“Bravo! I’d say I was correct in pairing you two together!”

She doesn’t jump at the loud exclamation, but it’s a near thing.

They silently divide the potion into flasks and label each glass, and once they’re done cleaning up she takes a moment to observe the rest of the class. They’re all at varying degrees of progress; some pairs are still working on their potion while others look like they’ve just finished stirring. It looks like they’re the only ones done.

Marinette and Damian head back to their respective seats at the front of the classroom after placing the flasks onto Professor Tyler’s desk. She can’t be sure, but she thinks she sees Damian angle his head at her in acknowledgment.

Marinette spends the rest of the class reviewing content she’d missed and skimming over future lesson topics. She even doesn’t realize they’ve been dismissed until half of the class has left. When she finally takes notice of the unusual silence, she jumps out of her seat, scrambling to collect her papers and head to the Great Hall. Luckily, everyone is headed the same way, so she need only follow the masses.

It’s nearly halfway through the day—while her peers are likely rejoicing at the prospect of a break, Marinette feels a sense of dread overcome her. She’d rather be in class right about now. It’s not that she prefers education to socialization, but for lack of a better term, she feels like a nervous wreck. Making friends hadn’t ever been a concern to her in the past; in fact, she’d have considered it one of her strong suits. Certain occurrences in the past year have made her start to doubt that belief, however.

Self-doubt aside, there’s no way she can escape her fate; according to what Headmistress Prince had briefed her upon, all students and staff are required to report to the Great Hall for lunch. For the second time that day, Marinette tells herself to suck it up and prove that she really does belong here. After all, she doesn’t have much to lose.

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1) Rex Tyler is a chemist in the DCU who discovered Miraclo, which gave him superhuman abilities for an hour at a time. His alias is Hourman, and he became a member of both the Justice Society and All-Star Squadron.

2) In the original series, the potions classroom actually has long tables of five instead of separate desks; I prefer the idea of everyone having their own space, however.

3) Gryffindor and Slytherin share Potions in this fic, just as they do in the original series! However, I made it so that students within houses do not necessarily have the same schedule. In canon, classes are taken with all other students in your house, but I felt as though that might be too restrictive. (I also did this for reasons of plot convenience, but it works both ways).

4) Immobulus, also known as the Freezing Charm, immobilizes living targets. According to Professor Slughorn, it can also be used to disable Muggle burglar alarms.

5) A facet I find strange about the potions classroom in the original series is the fact that there isn’t a separate lab area for brewing. Students work from their desks, which I find a bit strange considering how many hazards there are, so I structured the classrooms in this fic to be a split, with the front of the classroom being a regular teaching area and the back a brewing area.

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