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Thomas Thompson shifted uncomfortably in his too-starched apprentice robes, the Potions Guild crest heavy on his chest. He had not exactly earned it . Not properly, but Uncle Albon had assured him it was the best path forward. Albon Thompson, Auror first-class, close friend of Master Liu, and relentless champion of his nephew’s questionable potential, had seen Thomas's predicted NEWT marks in Potions and simply decided that this was the thing to be done.
Thomas had never openly disagreed. Why would he? His marks were decent enough, but hardly exceptional. Ambition was something other people seemed to possess, and passion a distant and perplexing abstraction. Still, his uncle had spoken to Master Liu, who had recommended him (politely, Thomas imagined, rather than enthusiastically), and now Thomas found himself standing in a line of interns all eyeing each other with varying degrees of suspicion and competitive intensity. Three other students, all bright-eyed, serious, clearly with some grand purpose that Thomas lacked.
Introductions felt painfully superficial. Thomas’s awkward muttering met blank stares that quickly shifted into polite indifference. Fine. Whatever. He hadn’t come for friendship. It was enough just to get through this, to humour his uncle, and maybe spite his parents along the way.
Weeks blurred by in predictable tasks. Between lectures, where the other interns clambered over each other to participate, they got to actually brew. That too was predictable. Thomas catalogued ingredients meticulously, set cauldrons to exact temperatures, and cleaned his lab stations methodically. Brief attempts at conversation died awkward deaths, and he retreated quietly into his comfortable shadows. The others had their whispered camaraderie and he had whole days where he got to be out of the house.
It's fine. Really.
The final practical exam, the one that dictated which Master would be saddled with him was a blip in the pattern of boring he had gotten absorbed into over the weeks, and against his expectation Thomas was actually a little jittery that day.
Thomas stood at his brewing station, heart thumping unevenly in his chest, staring at the basket of ingredients placed before him. They wanted to see what each of the interns could make with a limited, random set of ingredients. His probably pointed towards brewing Musgrave's Tonic [1]. Safe. Straightforward. Boring.
Yet as he catalogued all the ingredients to make sure he was correct, his eyes snagged on a huge bundle wrapped haphazardly in parchment. Devil’s Claw [2]. Not Arnica.
Dangerous. Unpredictable. A notoriously tricky substitution for the Arnica usually used in this particular potion. He supposed that was the challenge they were posing him.
Awful. He'd be lucky if the brew reached even 40% efficacy.
Without fully planning to, Thomas found himself reaching for the Devil's Claw, mentally rifling through what else it could be used in. Finally, impulsively, he settled on a brew he'd only ever read about in theory. A rather directly named and long-obsolete Firework Capsule [3].
He would have to improvise.
Turning the flames beneath the cauldron to their highest setting, Thomas poured Primrose Oil and carefully dropped in crushed Moonseed [4], stirring deliberately half-a-beat slower than instinct. He was working from least to most reactive of his ingredients & hot to cold, juggling between prepping his ingredients and precise stirring, that would ensure the capsules would explode in the desired geometric patterns.
He swirled a pinch the powdered Alunite [5] followed by an equal pinch of leached seaweed powder and watched the potion gain a lilac hue in awe. It always amazed him to see the invisible reactions behind the ingredients he was adding. He slowly repeated the step, each pinch darkening the brew into a deeper entrancing plum.
Removing it carefully from the flame, he placed exactly two-and-seven-ninths Billywig Stings [6] into the cauldron and imbued with with as much magic as quickly as he could to keep it from imploding on the spot. Sweating a bit, he lit the freeze flames with his wand, and heaved the cauldron over them.
10 minutes left. Technically he could leave it there but his eyes flicked anxiously to the ornate basket holding his ingredients, rimmed artfully with decorative shards of Phoenix Flint [7]. He hesitated when reaching towards it but when no master intervened, Thomas daringly snapped off seven shards, and set to crushing them into glittering blinding powder and portioned it out into each vial.
5 minutes. There was no more brewing time left to figure out how to stabilise the potion itself, but he just had to keep it cold then didn't he? He swiftly cast a freezing charm onto the vials; as long as they remained below freezing, they’d remain safe. Probably. The seconds were ticking down as he poured the purple mixture into each vial. Instantly as the powder met the potion, the liquid fractured into breathtaking kaleidoscopic brilliance, colours shimmering like captured starlight beneath a frost-bound sky.
He grinned at the sight and the bell rang as he capped his final vial. The other interns already had their potions at the front of their desks and displayed and were staring at him in judgy bemusement.
The room was frozen silent as the Masters inspected each potion carefully, murmuring and raising skeptical eyebrows at Thomas’s. He felt apprehension creeping in, mingled oddly with pride. He’d done something unexpected, and while disapproval radiated palpably from Master Liu and the some of the others, Thomas found he didn’t regret his choice.
Then time came for the masters to pick them. In order of seniority each master would get to pick their chosen intern. Thomas resigned himself as last pick, eying up the Master at the end of the row that he didn't recognise. The man had a dour expression and he cringed inside when their eyes met.
First Master Quincy stepped forward to announce the apprenticeships. Quincy known for quiet intensity, sharp critiques, and no tolerance for nonsense held everyone’s breath in suspense.
“Thomas Thompson,” Quincy announced quietly.
Shock rippled palpably through the room. Thomas stared, stunned. Quincy met his gaze steadily, lips twitching briefly upward. “Innovation requires brilliance,” Quincy said clearly. “Logic is necessary, but courage is rare. This one is mine.”
Thomas breathed deeply, smiled faintly at Quincy, and for the first time in weeks felt truly alive.
The days that followed, however, frustrated him. Master Quincy rejected topic after topic. Nothing was quite right, nothing challenging enough. Thomas’s doubts crept back until one early morning when he arrived to find a single vial, wax-sealed, bearing only a coded serial.
It was sealed in black wax, labelled only with a Guild-coded serial. When he later asked Quincy had barked not to touch it. "Field-use. No stabiliser. You'll lose your eyebrows."
That had made Thomas pause.
The next day, he asked what field-use meant. Quincy gave him a long look over the rim of his teacup. “It means someone’s likely bleeding when this gets uncorked.”
That was the beginning.
It wasn’t glamorous. He spent days and days in books, drawing up recipe concepts that he would never be allowed to actually brew at an intern level. Theoretical research was one thing, but he yearned for tangible purpose. Sure he could maybe get permission to brew a potion that would freeze the ground over the span of 20 feet but there were more effective spells for that.
A turning point arrived quietly. Quincy had left a file open. Thomas read of an Auror mission, casualties listed starkly. Only one survivor thanks solely to a Smoke Delay potion detonating a half-second late. It had done nothing grand. Yet, it had done precisely enough.
Later that night, Thomas was surrounded by shattered vials and scribbled equations when Quincy entered silently.
“You realise you won’t be allowed to present this publicly?” Quincy asked.
Thomas met his master’s gaze fiercely. “If you didn’t want me doing this, you wouldn’t have rejected my first five proposals.” He drew himself taller. “You chose me because you knew I could excel at exactly this. So I will. I'll become the best at it.”
Quincy’s nod held quiet pride. “Good,” he said softly. “Then your work will speak only in shadows and it will speak volumes.”
And for the first time, Thomas knew exactly who he wanted to be.
Appendix:
[1] Osteopathokinesis Remedy: Initially named Osteopathokinesis Cure by Musgrave in 1699, now commonly referred to as Musgrave’s Tonic, historically acclaimed as a universal curative for arthritis. Not to be confused with Musgrave’s Tincture 1734, a highly toxic weedkiller (see page 33). Traditionally incorporated Boswellia serrata alongside Rhodanchone, a botanical species believed extinct circa 1734 (see page 33). Modern substitutes result in treatment capable of delaying arthritis symptoms approximately fivefold. (Compendium of Arcane Therapeutics and Historical Remedies, Vol. VII, Max Phanes, 1912)
[2] Devil’s Claw: Known for anti-inflammatory properties; notoriously unstable and magically draining, unsuitable as first choice in medicinal potions. Preferred substitutions include Boswellia Serrata & Arnica. (Encyclopaedia Botanica Magica, Thaddeus Rhyme, 1898)
[3] Firework Capsule: Once beloved by mischievous children and youthful magi alike, this mildly explosive potion fell swiftly out of fashion due to the simplicity and safety of wand-cast alternatives. Known particularly for producing vibrant and colourful detonations, the Firework Capsule was notoriously finicky, relying heavily on a precise cooling stabiliser, to which the exact details have been lost to time. Due to the loss of the key final ingredient, there are no records of this having been brewed or distributed in the last century. (Nostalgic Potions and Obscure Brews, Ethelinda Sparks, 1874)
[4] Moonseed: Toxic plant historically used in curare, inducing muscle paralysis; careful dosage essential. (Poisons and Panaceas, Leonard Everly, 1902)
[5] Alunite: Alunite is a potassium & aluminium rich sulfate mineral, commonly found occupying pockets or seams within volcanic rock formations, notably rhyolites, trachytes, and andesites. Alunite has applications ranging from medicinal treatments—such as relief of sore throat, viral infections, and ulcers—to contemporary cosmetic use, particularly in its refined, colourless form. In the majority of potion-making today, Alunite primarily serves as a reliable potassium or aluminum source, essential in combustion potions, where it imparts a distinctive purple hue upon incopoeration. (The Lapidary Brewer’s Journal, Alaric Stoneworth, 1923)
[6] Billywig Stings: Induces fizzing reactions; ingredient in sweets like Fizzing Whizbees. (Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Newt Scamander)
[7] Phoenix Flint: Phoenix flint is a rare gemstone naturally formed within pellets regurgitated by phoenixes. Traditionally known for its protective properties against the severe cold encountered at high altitudes, phoenix flint is valued in both jewellery and magical object creation. Historically traded by reputable dealers such as Pierre Lebeau & Cie, this gemstone possesses unique magical-reactive characteristics, making it suitable in some potions, most notably, those relying upon precise temperature triggers to achieve their intended magical effects. (Gemstones of Magical Provenance, Mirabel Hawthorne, 1902)