Second Place!
It's true - when you weren't expecting anything, second place is exciting! If I'd been sure I would win, I might be disappointed. As it is, I was so excited I actually squeed.
This was a site-wide contest on Hogwarts Extreme. The prompt was this:
Task
Write a story about a new potion in the process of being tested out, however, it goes wrong and has a disastrous side effect.
We had a word count parameter of 500-2500 words. You know me....it wasn't going to be any 500 word concise thing. Here's what I came up with:
---------------------------------------------------------------
Idea notes:
Situation - needed something to improve focus in boring meetings at the Ministry for Magic.
Potion - a distillation of XYZ that can be added to coffee or tea.
Side Effects - OCD-like behavior (rigidity to form, interrupting the meeting with inane rules, hyper focus)
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Camilla Noel stirred the lime-green potion carefully 4 times clockwise and extinguished the flames. There. That should work. It had better work. There was no time to test it any further; the meeting was starting in an hour and her job was on the line. She conjured up her favorite coffee mug and carefully poured the infusion into the steaming coffee. The green liquid swirled once and then disappeared without a trace. Sighing with relief, Camilla took a sip. A light pumpkin flavor permeated her coffee now. She could live with that - if it worked. It was time.
Stepping out of the fireplace at the Ministry of Magic, Camilla set her document folder and coffee mug down on a nearby counter and brushed hurriedly at her robes with both hands. She had taken a rather large pinch of Floo Powder in her haste, and it had gotten all over her new chocolate-brown work robes, making the shoulders sparkle silver. That was bad - old Sharpster would have her head if she came in looking all "sparkly" for the weekly Scrub meeting. Director Deanna Sharp was a real stickler for protocol and formality; one reason that Camilla had created her potion in the first place. She was surprised that the Sharpster hadn't fired her before this.
Camilla loved her job as a Caretaker in the Beast division of the Regulation and Control of Magical Beings department. She got to care for all the animals that were confiscated and undergoing evaluation. If only I didn't have to attend these deadly weekly meetings, she thought. She had never been good at sitting still and focusing, which made her ideal for a job caring for animals who needed constant interaction and attention. Unfortunately, she was struggling with the other parts of the job: reams of paperwork, attending meetings, being accountable for every minute of every day. She had such trouble focusing on all that boring stuff! Hence, the potion. She had heard about Muggle medications for people who had difficulty focusing, and hoped to replicate some of that.
Picking the folder back up and sipping hurriedly at her doctored coffee, Camilla headed for the lifts and the Level 4 conference room. Just as the doors began to close, a large, rough hand snaked in the gap and gripped the edge of the door firmly. Camilla reacted quickly. "Doors, open!" she commanded. As the lift doors screeched their protest, Camilla's fellow Caretaker, Simon, squeezed through the opening, dragging a large, clearly heavy cage in with him. Inside the cage, squawked the oddest creature Camilla had yet seen. It had the head and neck of a cockatiel, the body of a lizard, and the tail of a rabbit.
"Didn' yeh get the owl?" panted Simon. "I could'a used a hand, yeh know."
"I'm so sorry, Simon!" apologized Camilla. "No owls have come for me for at least a week. Not even the Daily Prophet is getting through. I have no idea what's wrong - I'm headed for the Post Office after the meeting to sort things out. Where were you, and what the heck is that?"
She gestured at the cage with the coffee mug, causing some of the liquid to slosh out of the capped opening and into the cage. The creature stopped squawking and licked at the dripping liquid eagerly.
"We're not sure," said Simon grimly. "We canna tell if someone was experimentin' or it were a Transfiguration gone wrong as wrong can be. Found this beastie roamin' in Stratford. It could'a been worse; the Muggles there just thought it was part of a bad trip."
"It was just the one, then?" Camilla asked as they exited the lift and headed together toward the Quarantine Room, where newly captured beasts were held until they were examined and classified. She continued to sip her coffee as they walked. The pumpkin flavor had largely disappeared.
"As far as we know, yeah," Simon replied. "Got a couple o' runners out there doing clean-up. They'll alert me if there's summat more to handle."
"I wish. Anything to get out of this meeting," Camilla muttered under her breath. Simon shot her a sympathetic glance, but she didn't notice.
The creature safely stowed away, Camilla and Simon headed for the conference room.
"About time you two got here," grumbled Deanna Sharp as they sidled through the open doorway and hurriedly took seats around the oval conference table. Camilla stumbled over the protruding leg of the rolling chair and half-fell into her seat, dumping her file folder and coffee mug unceremoniously on the table in the process. The mug tipped and fell sideways as she grabbed for it. She groaned but then realized that nothing had spilled. How had it gotten completely empty so quickly?
The old-fashioned clock nestled on the wall cabinet chimed the hour softly, and the conference room door slid shut without a sound. The meeting was about to begin. Nervously, Camilla pulled out her Quick Quotes Quill from the pocket of her robes and retrieved a flat rectangle of parchment from the folder. She hoped that taking notes throughout the meeting would help her concentration.
Suddenly, Camilla realized that her parchment wasn't precisely square, and she tapped it with her wand, muttering a quick incantation to reformat the size and shape of the vellum. There. That's better. Glancing around the room, she noticed several glaring problems: one curtain surrounding the conference window was several whole centimeters longer than the other, the whiteboard behind Director Sharp was set at a crooked angle, the conference table itself wasn't precisely in the middle of the room, and even Director Sharp's bun was crooked. This would never do. She felt compelled to address the problems.
"Excuse me, Director," said Camilla, standing up just as Deanna had opened her mouth to bring the Scrub meeting to order. "There are a few things I need to fix really quickly before we get started. I hope you don't mind." She whipped out her wand and proceeded to fix the offending inconsistencies in rapid-fire succession. The curtains whipped madly, the table scurried sideways causing all the other occupants to stand up quickly with expressions of surprise and annoyance, and the whiteboard wheeled around 3 times before settling back down. Deanna Sharp's hair, however, remained stubbornly off-center. Camilla concentrated harder. Suddenly, the Director's hair flew straight up in the air 3 feet, unwound itself, rewound in a military-straight bun, and settled back down on Deanna's bald head.
It all happened so quickly that only the widening of eyes around the room reflected that anything unusual had occurred to the Director. Camilla, horrified, stammered an apology and waited for the tirade and firing. Director Sharp reached up, tucked a stray strand of hair behind an ear, glared at Camilla, said, "Are you quite finished?" and proceeded to open the meeting.
Camilla exchanged uneasy looks with Simon. Do you think she knows? she tried to ask with her eyebrows. Simon shrugged and rolled his eyes. He glanced up at the whiteboard, gesturing toward it with his head. Camilla took the hint and settled back into her seat, prepared to pretend nothing at all had just happened. She found it easy to follow the usually-dry-as-dust facts and figures. Oh, good. The potion is working, just as I had hoped! She found herself on the edge of her seat, engrossed in the Director's monotone, absorbed by every word. Absently, she lined her parchment precisely with the table edge and squared her rolling chair exactly underneath it as she listened.
As the meeting progressed, Camilla realized that the Director was leaving out parts of the written agenda, skipping around, and merging topics. She had never noticed this before, but now it was driving her nuts and interfering with her ability to concentrate. She glanced down at the agenda in her folder. She was not imagining it. Once again, she felt compelled to act.
"Excuse me, Director?" Camilla began, standing up again. There was a startled and absolute silence. NOBODY interrupted Director Sharp. Nobody. "I was wondering whether you were going to address the recidivism statistics before you moved into the section about Beings? My notes are incomplete." The silence was even deeper and somehow more ominous this time. Camilla began to sweat. What am I doing??? She could feel Simon tugging at her robes from under the table, trying to get her to sit back down. She felt frozen on the spot, a breathing stone statue.
"Miss. Noel. What. Do. You. THINK. You. Are...." Deanna Sharp was almost apoplectic with anger. Before she could finish the sentence, however, frantic squawking and the sound of pounding feet could be heard in the hall.
"HELP! HELP! FIRE! MAYHEM! OUT OF ORDER!" screeched a high-pitched, manic voice that permeated through the walls. Suddenly, the conference doors swished open. The bird/lizard/bunny scurried into the conference room. It swarmed up the legs of the table, scattering people and papers in its wake. Simon made a lunge for the creature - "oh, NO yeh don', laddie!" - but only succeeded in crashing on top of the middle of the table. What cups or papers had been undisturbed by the fleeing creature stood no chance against the weight of a 6-and-a-half foot man sprawled on his stomach, cursing and holding a small tuft of bunny hair. Wands were drawn and spells were flying, but the creature remained unencumbered. It streaked for the door again and was gone in a flash.
"Dismissed!" ordered Deanna Sharp, abruptly ending the meeting and releasing everyone. Several people immediately piled out of the conference room and followed the creature down the hallway. Deanna was close on their heels, yelling conflicting directions at the pursuers. As she left the conference room, she muttered, "Meeting Over" to the doors, which obediently remained open.
Stunned at the turn of events, Camilla helped Simon off of the table. The chaos in the room hurt her clear down to her toes, and she methodically began to restore the room to precise order, when Simon abruptly stepped in front of her. He put his hands on both of her upper arms, immobilizing her as if she were one of the creatures they both cared for. "What in blue BLAZES is wrong wi' yeh today?" he demanded. "Are yeh INSANE? Do yeh WAN' teh get fired?"
Shocked, Camilla took in what he was saying. It didn't make sense. "What do you mean?" she whispered finally. "What am I doing wrong?" She wanted to cry.
Simon gestured grandly at the wrecked room. "This," he said more calmly, "This is not what yeh should be concentratin' on righ' now. But yeh are - why?"
"I - I - umm," stuttered Camilla. "I have to get it righ - OH!" Comprehension suddenly dawned. "Oh, Simon!" she gasped, half laughing, half crying. "I am afraid I will never make a potions expert!"
She quickly filled him in on the potion that she had made that morning and put in her coffee. Simon grinned and shook his head. "Why didn' yeh just ask? I could have tol' yeh a couple o' secrets ter deal wit' these meetings and stay off Sharpster's hit list. She's pretty easy t' manipulate if yeh know how. Yeh need t' think more like a Slytherin, dearie!"
Camilla blushed and shook her head. "I thought....well, it doesn't matter what I thought. It must be the potion that is making me want everything "just right" because that isn't me. It's easier to fight now that I know what it is, but still, if you catch me getting all precise again, will you tell me?"
"Sure," Simon replied. He glanced out of the conference window and watched several people hurrying down the hallway in search of the creature. "Yeh know...." he said thoughtfully. "Tha' lizard bird...didn' yeh spill..."
OH MY GOSH!" gasped Camilla. "You're right!" Together, they rushed for the door. It was time to deal with the consequences of her potion-making experiment.
This was a site-wide contest on Hogwarts Extreme. The prompt was this:
Task
Write a story about a new potion in the process of being tested out, however, it goes wrong and has a disastrous side effect.
We had a word count parameter of 500-2500 words. You know me....it wasn't going to be any 500 word concise thing. Here's what I came up with:
---------------------------------------------------------------
Idea notes:
Situation - needed something to improve focus in boring meetings at the Ministry for Magic.
Potion - a distillation of XYZ that can be added to coffee or tea.
Side Effects - OCD-like behavior (rigidity to form, interrupting the meeting with inane rules, hyper focus)
----------------------------------------------------------------
Camilla Noel stirred the lime-green potion carefully 4 times clockwise and extinguished the flames. There. That should work. It had better work. There was no time to test it any further; the meeting was starting in an hour and her job was on the line. She conjured up her favorite coffee mug and carefully poured the infusion into the steaming coffee. The green liquid swirled once and then disappeared without a trace. Sighing with relief, Camilla took a sip. A light pumpkin flavor permeated her coffee now. She could live with that - if it worked. It was time.
Stepping out of the fireplace at the Ministry of Magic, Camilla set her document folder and coffee mug down on a nearby counter and brushed hurriedly at her robes with both hands. She had taken a rather large pinch of Floo Powder in her haste, and it had gotten all over her new chocolate-brown work robes, making the shoulders sparkle silver. That was bad - old Sharpster would have her head if she came in looking all "sparkly" for the weekly Scrub meeting. Director Deanna Sharp was a real stickler for protocol and formality; one reason that Camilla had created her potion in the first place. She was surprised that the Sharpster hadn't fired her before this.
Camilla loved her job as a Caretaker in the Beast division of the Regulation and Control of Magical Beings department. She got to care for all the animals that were confiscated and undergoing evaluation. If only I didn't have to attend these deadly weekly meetings, she thought. She had never been good at sitting still and focusing, which made her ideal for a job caring for animals who needed constant interaction and attention. Unfortunately, she was struggling with the other parts of the job: reams of paperwork, attending meetings, being accountable for every minute of every day. She had such trouble focusing on all that boring stuff! Hence, the potion. She had heard about Muggle medications for people who had difficulty focusing, and hoped to replicate some of that.
Picking the folder back up and sipping hurriedly at her doctored coffee, Camilla headed for the lifts and the Level 4 conference room. Just as the doors began to close, a large, rough hand snaked in the gap and gripped the edge of the door firmly. Camilla reacted quickly. "Doors, open!" she commanded. As the lift doors screeched their protest, Camilla's fellow Caretaker, Simon, squeezed through the opening, dragging a large, clearly heavy cage in with him. Inside the cage, squawked the oddest creature Camilla had yet seen. It had the head and neck of a cockatiel, the body of a lizard, and the tail of a rabbit.
"Didn' yeh get the owl?" panted Simon. "I could'a used a hand, yeh know."
"I'm so sorry, Simon!" apologized Camilla. "No owls have come for me for at least a week. Not even the Daily Prophet is getting through. I have no idea what's wrong - I'm headed for the Post Office after the meeting to sort things out. Where were you, and what the heck is that?"
She gestured at the cage with the coffee mug, causing some of the liquid to slosh out of the capped opening and into the cage. The creature stopped squawking and licked at the dripping liquid eagerly.
"We're not sure," said Simon grimly. "We canna tell if someone was experimentin' or it were a Transfiguration gone wrong as wrong can be. Found this beastie roamin' in Stratford. It could'a been worse; the Muggles there just thought it was part of a bad trip."
"It was just the one, then?" Camilla asked as they exited the lift and headed together toward the Quarantine Room, where newly captured beasts were held until they were examined and classified. She continued to sip her coffee as they walked. The pumpkin flavor had largely disappeared.
"As far as we know, yeah," Simon replied. "Got a couple o' runners out there doing clean-up. They'll alert me if there's summat more to handle."
"I wish. Anything to get out of this meeting," Camilla muttered under her breath. Simon shot her a sympathetic glance, but she didn't notice.
The creature safely stowed away, Camilla and Simon headed for the conference room.
"About time you two got here," grumbled Deanna Sharp as they sidled through the open doorway and hurriedly took seats around the oval conference table. Camilla stumbled over the protruding leg of the rolling chair and half-fell into her seat, dumping her file folder and coffee mug unceremoniously on the table in the process. The mug tipped and fell sideways as she grabbed for it. She groaned but then realized that nothing had spilled. How had it gotten completely empty so quickly?
The old-fashioned clock nestled on the wall cabinet chimed the hour softly, and the conference room door slid shut without a sound. The meeting was about to begin. Nervously, Camilla pulled out her Quick Quotes Quill from the pocket of her robes and retrieved a flat rectangle of parchment from the folder. She hoped that taking notes throughout the meeting would help her concentration.
Suddenly, Camilla realized that her parchment wasn't precisely square, and she tapped it with her wand, muttering a quick incantation to reformat the size and shape of the vellum. There. That's better. Glancing around the room, she noticed several glaring problems: one curtain surrounding the conference window was several whole centimeters longer than the other, the whiteboard behind Director Sharp was set at a crooked angle, the conference table itself wasn't precisely in the middle of the room, and even Director Sharp's bun was crooked. This would never do. She felt compelled to address the problems.
"Excuse me, Director," said Camilla, standing up just as Deanna had opened her mouth to bring the Scrub meeting to order. "There are a few things I need to fix really quickly before we get started. I hope you don't mind." She whipped out her wand and proceeded to fix the offending inconsistencies in rapid-fire succession. The curtains whipped madly, the table scurried sideways causing all the other occupants to stand up quickly with expressions of surprise and annoyance, and the whiteboard wheeled around 3 times before settling back down. Deanna Sharp's hair, however, remained stubbornly off-center. Camilla concentrated harder. Suddenly, the Director's hair flew straight up in the air 3 feet, unwound itself, rewound in a military-straight bun, and settled back down on Deanna's bald head.
It all happened so quickly that only the widening of eyes around the room reflected that anything unusual had occurred to the Director. Camilla, horrified, stammered an apology and waited for the tirade and firing. Director Sharp reached up, tucked a stray strand of hair behind an ear, glared at Camilla, said, "Are you quite finished?" and proceeded to open the meeting.
Camilla exchanged uneasy looks with Simon. Do you think she knows? she tried to ask with her eyebrows. Simon shrugged and rolled his eyes. He glanced up at the whiteboard, gesturing toward it with his head. Camilla took the hint and settled back into her seat, prepared to pretend nothing at all had just happened. She found it easy to follow the usually-dry-as-dust facts and figures. Oh, good. The potion is working, just as I had hoped! She found herself on the edge of her seat, engrossed in the Director's monotone, absorbed by every word. Absently, she lined her parchment precisely with the table edge and squared her rolling chair exactly underneath it as she listened.
As the meeting progressed, Camilla realized that the Director was leaving out parts of the written agenda, skipping around, and merging topics. She had never noticed this before, but now it was driving her nuts and interfering with her ability to concentrate. She glanced down at the agenda in her folder. She was not imagining it. Once again, she felt compelled to act.
"Excuse me, Director?" Camilla began, standing up again. There was a startled and absolute silence. NOBODY interrupted Director Sharp. Nobody. "I was wondering whether you were going to address the recidivism statistics before you moved into the section about Beings? My notes are incomplete." The silence was even deeper and somehow more ominous this time. Camilla began to sweat. What am I doing??? She could feel Simon tugging at her robes from under the table, trying to get her to sit back down. She felt frozen on the spot, a breathing stone statue.
"Miss. Noel. What. Do. You. THINK. You. Are...." Deanna Sharp was almost apoplectic with anger. Before she could finish the sentence, however, frantic squawking and the sound of pounding feet could be heard in the hall.
"HELP! HELP! FIRE! MAYHEM! OUT OF ORDER!" screeched a high-pitched, manic voice that permeated through the walls. Suddenly, the conference doors swished open. The bird/lizard/bunny scurried into the conference room. It swarmed up the legs of the table, scattering people and papers in its wake. Simon made a lunge for the creature - "oh, NO yeh don', laddie!" - but only succeeded in crashing on top of the middle of the table. What cups or papers had been undisturbed by the fleeing creature stood no chance against the weight of a 6-and-a-half foot man sprawled on his stomach, cursing and holding a small tuft of bunny hair. Wands were drawn and spells were flying, but the creature remained unencumbered. It streaked for the door again and was gone in a flash.
"Dismissed!" ordered Deanna Sharp, abruptly ending the meeting and releasing everyone. Several people immediately piled out of the conference room and followed the creature down the hallway. Deanna was close on their heels, yelling conflicting directions at the pursuers. As she left the conference room, she muttered, "Meeting Over" to the doors, which obediently remained open.
Stunned at the turn of events, Camilla helped Simon off of the table. The chaos in the room hurt her clear down to her toes, and she methodically began to restore the room to precise order, when Simon abruptly stepped in front of her. He put his hands on both of her upper arms, immobilizing her as if she were one of the creatures they both cared for. "What in blue BLAZES is wrong wi' yeh today?" he demanded. "Are yeh INSANE? Do yeh WAN' teh get fired?"
Shocked, Camilla took in what he was saying. It didn't make sense. "What do you mean?" she whispered finally. "What am I doing wrong?" She wanted to cry.
Simon gestured grandly at the wrecked room. "This," he said more calmly, "This is not what yeh should be concentratin' on righ' now. But yeh are - why?"
"I - I - umm," stuttered Camilla. "I have to get it righ - OH!" Comprehension suddenly dawned. "Oh, Simon!" she gasped, half laughing, half crying. "I am afraid I will never make a potions expert!"
She quickly filled him in on the potion that she had made that morning and put in her coffee. Simon grinned and shook his head. "Why didn' yeh just ask? I could have tol' yeh a couple o' secrets ter deal wit' these meetings and stay off Sharpster's hit list. She's pretty easy t' manipulate if yeh know how. Yeh need t' think more like a Slytherin, dearie!"
Camilla blushed and shook her head. "I thought....well, it doesn't matter what I thought. It must be the potion that is making me want everything "just right" because that isn't me. It's easier to fight now that I know what it is, but still, if you catch me getting all precise again, will you tell me?"
"Sure," Simon replied. He glanced out of the conference window and watched several people hurrying down the hallway in search of the creature. "Yeh know...." he said thoughtfully. "Tha' lizard bird...didn' yeh spill..."
OH MY GOSH!" gasped Camilla. "You're right!" Together, they rushed for the door. It was time to deal with the consequences of her potion-making experiment.