“WASN’T AWARE I was hiding,” the Potions professor stated off-handedly to the other professor’s statement when she came into the classroom. The comment was stated more in jest than anything, as the woman’s tone made it sound as if she had been looking for him Grey had not given any thought when he spoke, concentrating on making a comment to the current essay he was grading. He was not particularly impressed with the essay if it being covered in his thin, neat handwriting was anything to go off of—which, it probably was as the man was one of few words except when needed otherwise. “The healer has me brewing up some things for the hospital wing. Apparently there was something of an epidemic there the last two days,” he added dryly with a frown at the parchment in front of him. He was seriously wondering at the sanity of some of his students.

He dropped his quill to the side with an exhale before reaching his hands up to rub at his eyes while leaning back in his seat. That essay had taken longer than expected, and the stupidity all the more draining on the Professor.

Dropping his hands to his lap, he looked finally to the Herbology professor and her burden of plants. To be honest, he had forgotten what the day was and that intended meeting. Being called upon short notice to brew things tended to do that. However, he was smart enough to keep the comment to himself. It wasn’t really too difficult to locate him, as Grey had very few haunts inside the castle. He was not known for leaving the castle often, and Catherine had already discovered he was a bit of a workaholic.

You stare too long over that and the fumes will tinge your face blue,” Grey commented before he had placed his quill down. Frankly, the man was lying his ass off with that comment, but he was curious to see if the petite Herbology professor would believe him or not. He was not often in the habit of dropping jokes or pranks, but he had been doing it a bit more recently around Catherine. He was more relaxed when around people he was familiar. While he still tended to keep those at arm’s reach, never quite openly up as much as one would normally, he was still vastly more approachable. This was certainly the case between the two professors once the air had been cleared around him. Strangely, it seemed Catherine was quickly becoming the only faculty member that Grey had any strong familiarity with. He wasn’t certain if it was due to these weekly visits with ingredients or is something else was happening. After all, everyone knew the Potions Master was far from social.

The man tilted his head slightly as he regarded the other Professor as she expounded upon her latest stock. He always amused him, the pride she took in her little plants. It wasn’t necessarily the pride in growing them, but in the fact she was sending her little plants off to their deaths—in some cases. And yet, she took such pride in their progress only for them to meet an end at the hand of bungling student or in the creation of a potion. Granted, ending up in the potion was fine way to end in Grey’s opinion, as the plant’s legacy was continuing on in the creation of something new.

“So that new method of, whatever you talked about in regards to them, worked, I take it?” Grey questioned, trying to show proper interest in the woman’s news. He was all for good stock, but when it came to actually growing things Grey didn’t often possess the patience. Herbology had been a strong point when he was a student, but more so in remembering the properties of plants rather than the actual growing process. He had floundered through that portion. So while he understood much of what Catherine gushed about, he didn’t often retain the knowledge of techniques or things of that ilk. He merely recalled that a few weeks back she had been worrying over them and listing different things she could do to help them.

A small smile flittered over Grey’s lips when the woman jerked back away from the potion. It was certainly something he had been noticing when it came to Catherine. She was not used to him teasing of any sort, so she often took anything he said at face value. In this regard, Grey was not disappointed. Granted, he would rather her believe him when it came to the properties of potions. After all, there was so much that could possibly go wrong during the brewing process. “I’m glad to hear it,” Grey stated to Catherine’s short reply to his inquiry. He was only slightly surprise that she had not gone into great detail over the matter given the chance, especially given how proud she was of her little plants. But he was not one to look a gifted hippogriff in the mouth.

His fingered toyed with the feather of his quill, “I’m not,” he responded. “It won’t actually turn anything blue, but it might dry your skin out for a couple painful hours.” There was only a brief smile. “And if it had, it was not the final outcome of the potion, but merely a process step.” He piled up the essays in front of him, and pushing them to the side.

Mildly amused by the woman, Grey shook his head slightly. “A hazard of potion making, unfortunately, as potions give off vapors,” he responded. Part of him felt that Catherine was probably turning the issue into something larger than it actually was, given that she had not caught on to the slight tease he gave her earlier. However, he wasn’t going to work to repair whatever damage was made. The woman knew there were many hazards in the fields they worked in. It was to be expected.

The man was about to respond to the woman’s inquiry when she started to babble off into incoherency … well, at least in regards to forming complete sentences as her mind scrambled her thought process and she over analyzed her statements. He leaned back into his chair as she babbled, crossing his arms over his chest with bemusement while he waited for her to come a somewhat natural halt in her word vomit. “Aside from over-thinking things?” the man offered to her final query without malice.

He didn’t go into details, allowing the question to hang, “You were fine before you second-guessed your question,” he stated, “and as to your question, I’m technically done with grading,” he iterated, “but,” and here he motioned the simmering cauldron, “that is far from finished still.” Grey stood up from his seat as he continued, “Frankly, I was about to prepare the next portion. If you like you may aide me as a few of those Valerian Sprigs you just brought need to be prepped,” he offered. He could use the ones he had in his stores remaining, but since she brought some fresh one he would prefer those for this particular potion.

“Only if you so choose,” the Potions Professor retorted. He could tell that doing any functional work was the last thing the other Professor wanted to be spending her time doing. Yet, the woman picked up the knife and a bushel of her beloved plants to assist. A smile tugged at the corners of Grey’s lips. He made no further comment, but stood up and stretched his back, feeling a satisfying pop as he pushed on his hips and arched his spine backwards. One of the little things of teaching he loathed, sitting often stooped in one position for so long was difficult on one’s back.


It was only after he pulled over the mortar and pestle to himself that he noticed Catherine’s current occupation. He chuckled, as by this point the woman had already amassed a small collection of blossoms into her honey hair. He kept any comments he had have thought to himself, having nothing to remark to her chopping of roots, as she had surmised correctly. Instead, he prepared the remaining ingredients set aside for the potion while she worked.

After she had separated enough, he said, “That is adequate,” collecting her collection of roots and adding them to the potion. However, before had moved to the cauldron, Grey had adjusted two of the blossoms Catherine had placed in her hair, the blooms having started to slide from the weave of her braid.

Grey had not spared further attention to the woman’s hair as he focused on his task at hand. While perhaps the woman would not like to think she was ignored, the fact of the matter was that Grey assumed that Cat would like an explosion even less than being ignored. There was a reason why Potions were considered a precise and delicate subject matter. So, the wizard did not spare a second glance to the Herbology professor until after he had finished with work with the potion.

Picking up his tools to clean, the Professor finally looked to his companion. He made a soft noise of disappointment, almost easy to believe in response to the litter of petals on the floor of his classroom. However, his words belied this assumption. “They had looked, nice,” he murmured in passing her on his way to sink, “But do with them as you will,” he then stated more strongly. The first statement had really only been a passing thought vocalized, perhaps not even realized spoken out loud.

He focused once more on his task, as he cleaned up. The potion only required to simmer for a few hours before it would be complete.