Potions Office Hours: Valentine Feels Bored and Scholarly

[degeneratewolfe]

Valentine had some time back returned from his year away, scouring the world for new and interesting substances and experiences. And oh, what a year it had been. But he was here now, back to the large, odd castle and the house elves who cowered justifiably every time he walked by, and life had regained a pace of a sort.

Valentine hated monotony

Comments

[missprimavera]

Potions, hmmm? Primavera knew it was a different potions master than the one who'd been at Hogwarts when she first showed up, but she couldn't remember whether she'd actually met this one. Anyhow, talking with Steff had reminded her of something she missed from back home, and if anyone could find or devise such a thing at Hogwarts, a potions master could.

She took the open door as an invitation, sauntering right in without fanfare. "Hi."

[degeneratewolfe]

Valentine looked up, fever-bright eyes focusing quickly on the first student of the day. "Why hello there, my dear!" He lounged back further in his chair, smiling cheerily at her. "And what might you like to discuss on this fine... well, time being fleeting and a spiral down into void, does it really matter?"

[missprimavera]

Oooh, how nonlinear! Primavera took an immediate liking to the new potions master, she being a nonlinear sort herself. Hers was what Dr. Toxicophilous had dubbed 'fractal programming'.

She draped herself over a spare chair, legs over the side. "Wellll, you're the potions master, and I want a potion, a specific kind of potion I can't find anywhere."

[degeneratewolfe]

The crimson smile widened and he stretched out languidly, spreading his arms wide. "Of course, my dear! I'm somewhat more flexible and expansive in my ability to procure or create things than some others. And I do pride myself on a certain creativity with a cauldron. What, pray tell, do you desire?"

[tallyhopippip]

"Oh, hello! I didn't realize there was a classroom here!" Understandably enough, even if George had reasonable intelligence, he just unpopped. "Oh, and there's muffins!"

[degeneratewolfe]

"Hello yourself!" His ever-present smile stood out starkly with his dyed-white face as he took in the newcomer. "Feel free to help yourself. I made them this morning. See how fresh they are?" He picked one up, banana-nut with raspberry swirls, and took a bite. Oh lovely, he got one of the special ones. His eyes dilated to near-fullness as he chewed. "How may I assist you today?"

[tallyhopippip]

"Oh, I've been just exploring around. I seem to have found myself back at Blighty! I didn't know they had a magic school here, though." He grabbed a muffin and tried it. "Oh, this is delicious."

Whether it's one of the special ones or not remains to be seen. Not that George would notice.

[degeneratewolfe]

"Oh yes," he said pleasantly, taking another delicate bite of his own muffin. "I'm so glad that you like it! Feel free to take more for later." After all, it increased the odds, and Valentine was a big believer in sowing chaos and hilarity anywhere he could. What use was a boring universe?

[i_am_harkonnen]

The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was intrigued to notice a sign on the door of the Potions classroom as he was passing by- he hadn't been sure if there was an active Potions teacher, or not, and figured that as he was there, he might as well introduce himself. He'd been making a point of meeting as much of the staff as possible, as some sort of improvements were definitely needed in the school. Lately, however, he'd been more interested in studying his own subject than bothering with organizing a faculty meeting, although the "Office Hours" sign was a reminder. It was a reminder to get his own lesson plans in order as well

[degeneratewolfe]

Valentine's first thought was that Gregor Shreck had come to Hogwarts. But the impression only lasted a moment. For one thing, Gregor's fashion sense had always been appalling.

"A fellow teacher, and even better, a fellow noble!" Valentine shook the hand briefly and then stood, sweeping his lanky frame into a courtly bow just a few degrees short of being insulting; while Valentine had a certain image to protect, there was no sense in making enemies. Yet. A lifetime in the Iron Bitch's court had made him a consummate courtier, and that included playing coy long enough to determine who your allies were this hour. "Lord Valentine Wolfe, Potions Master and Slytherin at your service, my dear Baron."

[i_am_harkonnen]

The Baron's fashion sense, although lavish, only tended to enter the realm of 'appalling' once he became comfortable around people, and then mainly due to the lack of clothing. He was known to wear nothing but his suspensor harness and a cape while sitting around his own rooms, but he at least tended to get fully dressed before venturing out

[degeneratewolfe]

Valentine's long-fingered hands fluttered excitedly. It had been so long since someone had bowed to him. If it hadn't been for some concoction or other that perfected his recall, he would have said he'd almost forgotten how it felt. "And might I say that the pleasure is mutual. I'm afraid that I've been surrounded by commoners here, and while the nobility of my time were a lot of dull, inbred little shits I do miss being surrounded by my peers from time to time." Not that they were truly his peers, not when it was questionable how far he had taken himself from baseline human, but that went without saying

[dood_cinnabon]

Pickles was kind of drunk. Not shit-faced (that took way too much effort), but just drunk enough to shuffle into the potions master's office without really knowing where he was. Or caring.

"Dood are you like...a gath or somethin?" he asked, staring at Valentine. His eyes were noticeably bloodshot and he was clutching a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his right hand. But, yeah, whatever. He was still okay to drive the Murdercycle.

[degeneratewolfe]

Ah, a fellow after his own heart, though somewhat cruder than Valentine himself was. He arched a manicured eyebrow, the polite smile never leaving his face as he gave the man a thorough once-over. Absolutely common taste in clothing, hair that wouldn't have looked out of place on one of those ridiculous elves, and about forty piercings short of the minimal required for certain Golgothan street gangs.

"I've been called such, but no, I'm not. I'm merely... minimalist in my outward appearance, to counterbalance the chaos of my internal existence. Would you like a muffin?"

[dood_cinnabon]

Manicured eyebrows? What a girly man. Though, admittedly, the creepy all-black-with-white-face-paint thing looked pretty metal on the guy. Not Pickles's kind of metal but yeah, still metal.

Anyway, most of what Valentine said went over his head. "Oo, sweet, muffins!" Except that part. As par his unnatural ability to seek out and consume drugs, Pickles chose one of the fun muffins. He shoved the entire thing in his mouth and chewed it up in record time (he was hungry). His pupils started dilating as he picked up a second muffin, but Pickles didn't seem to notice that he'd been drugged.

"Yeah, so do you like, write dark...poerty or somethin? 'Cause, no, dood, that's fine, long as its not like, y'know...that whiney...emo kid crap about cuttin' yer arm off or whatever. That shit sucks." He started munching on the second muffin as he finished speaking. That one may be drugged too.

[degeneratewolfe]

While Valentine would never be anywhere near as much of a dandy as Finlay Campbell (at least, Finlay's court persona--Valentine had to admit a grudging respect for the man who had helped to kill him) the aristos of his time had all been a rather appearance-oriented, decadent bunch. Some habits died hard, if you were in the business of quitting habits at all.

"No, I don't," he said lazily, watching with delight as the man set to work devouring the muffins. "I find poetry dull, and whining to be even more so. My art is of the pharmaceutical sort, and I enjoy every millisecond of it."

[igorofmalaria]

Igor was glad to see Office Hours posted at last. Maybe he could finally get a handle on the way magical chemistry worked, among other things...he held his small vial of contaminated punch closer. Good thing, too or he would have dropped it on seeing the inside of the plant-cluttered office.

It couldn't be- but it was, right down to the lipstick. "Dr. Schadenfreude? You're here too? How?"

[degeneratewolfe]

Oh my. There was some odd-looking creature in his office, acting like it knew him. He smiled as innocently as he was capable of (which was to say, not very) and shook his head. "While the name is an interesting one, you are mistaken. I'm Lord Valentine Wolfe, Potions Master."

[igorofmalaria]

((Edited.))

Now that he had a clear view, they did look different. This man was wearing the wrong shade of lipstick for one.
"Oh. You look like someone I know. My apologies, Lord Potions Master Wolfe. I noticed the sign-" Igor pointed to the door "said you had open hours."

He glanced over at the desk were those muffins? I should have eaten lunch.
"I'm interested in learning potions, because I have a project of my own." The flask of solution was produced.
(opefully Wolfe wouldn't think he was being presumptious. Though almost nobody seemed to have that reaction to him at Hogwarts.)
"Where I come from there isn't magic, only chemistry so I don't know how to recreate this."
Muffins.

[degeneratewolfe]

Valentine was so rarely mistaken for anyone else that he didn't know if he should feel irritated or flattered. He decided to go with option number three: ignoring that bit of information and moving on to the other questions and conversation points.

"Lord Wolfe is fine, thank you," he told the... student. "I am indeed holding office hours. You see, it's been so long since I've been here and I fear that some students may have forgotten about me. And I can't have that."

His smile, which had flickered dangerous and predatory for a moment, returned to something more benign. Sort of. "Besides, I'm planning a class soon! One of the advantages of wandering this world--" Limited and isolated as it is-- "is that I encounter all sorts of other concoctions that one would never find in an ordinary, Ministry of Magic-approved textbook. I feel that it is my responsibility to pass some of that knowledge onto eager young minds such as yours. May I see your sample? And," he said, holding out one long white hand, "would you care for a muffin