Oleandra was beginning to lose faith in humanity. She freely admitted to herself that she had lied a lot back when she'd still been able to, but she had never realized until her eyes evolved to their current stage just how often people lied in day-to-day life.
Take for example the lovey-dovey couple they'd just passed by on their way to Potions class:
"Would you still love me if I were a Slobberworm?" the girl had asked.
"Yes," the boy had responded with as serious a voice as he could muster.
That was a lie! And it's Flobberworms, not Slobberworms! Go back to Care of Magical Creatures class, you stupid couple, because you clearly haven't been paying attention!
Or take for instance this very morning, when Oleandra had walked by Pansy's dormitory room.
"Do you think these robes make me look fat?" Millicent Bulstrode had asked Pansy.
"Mill, there are no enchantments powerful enough in this world that would make you look thin, no matter what clothes you chose to wear," Pansy had answered disinterestedly.
Okay, Pansy hadn't been lying that time, but still, it hadn't been necessary for her to be that mean!
And finally… take for example just now, when Oleandra had asked Tracey to cheer up.
"I'm not upset," Tracey said sullenly.
Now that was a lie if Oleandra had ever heard one. Tracey was definitely upset; she was still hung up on her, even though she had said last Christmas that their friendship was her priority. Still… Oleandra wasn't exactly NOT leading her on either, so she also was partly at fault.
Oleandra imagined that her miraculous death and rebirth act might have something to do with Tracey's renewed passion— after all, you could never know just how much you'd miss one thing until after you'd lost it. And what exactly was she supposed to do? Go be attractive elsewhere? Tracey was her best friend, she couldn't just run away from her or hurt her feelings!
In truth, the answer to all of Oleandra's predicaments was simple: the two of them needed to talk to each other from the heart and reevaluate how they felt about each other. But that was difficult and awkward… Maintaining the status quo was much easier and much less embarrassing… for now.
At any rate, any relationship talks would have to wait until after Professor Snape's class. Daphne had been right about one thing; fifth year was incredibly important, as they would be taking their standardized O.W.L. examinations by the end of the year. It was fine to sleep in History of Magic, but Potioneering was an actually important class!
The three Slytherin girls lined up in front of Professor Snape's classroom, waiting for the door to open. Maybe she ought to copy Daphne's example, Oleandra thought to herself, and paint Ingwaz or Kenaz on her forehead with the special ink. It was the only way an ordinary girl like Daphne could keep up with the natural memorization and comprehension abilities of monsters like Hermione or Mafalda.
Oleandra sighed. If only Ægishjálmur didn't take up so much space on her forehead, she too could permanently be under the effects of the Divine Spark and the Guiding Torch. But as she pondered a way to extend the available space on her forehead without physically inflating her head to ridiculous proportions, the door to the classroom popped open, and the Gryffindors and Slytherins began streaming in.
"Settle down," said Professor Snape coldly.
That order was largely unnecessary; by their fifth year, students had already learned that one did not mess around in Potions class; either from experience, or from watching others make the mistake for them.
"Before we begin today's lesson," said Professor Snape, closing the door to the dungeons shut, before dramatically pausing, walking over to his desk, and finally giving them all the evil eye, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June, you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will demonstrate how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions."
The entire class froze in fear and listened attentively, the professor's words drawing in their attention like moths to a flame.
"I will only accept the very best into my N.E.W.T. level Potions class," Professor Snape continued, "Which thankfully means that some of you will no longer be darkening my doorstep. But there is still one year to go before we must say farewell forever."
Professor Snape gave Neville a meaningful look.
"I do hope you have learned more than simple memorization," he added softly, his gaze wandering in turn over Oleandra and Daphne, before landing on Hermione. "Moronic as some of you might be, the brighter among you may have noticed that subtle laws govern Potioneering and ingredient interactions. Failure to innovate will constitute a failure in my eyes, even if you should miraculously pass your N.E.W.T.s. But as I said, there is still one year until then, so for now, I shall limit myself to teaching you about the potions that most often come up in your O.W.L.s."
It just so happened that Daphne had integrated the knowledge of the entirety of Moste Potente Potions, a highly advanced potioneering grimoire beyond N.E.W.T level, so innovation wasn't a problem for her: she could already create brand-new potions, such as the voice-activated invisible ink that the Greengrass twins used to paint sigils and runes on their bodies.
Modifying existing potions based on available ingredients was extremely easy for her, but memorizing such a complex book using magic had taken a toll: for now, Daphne needed to sleep more than ten hours every day in order to be functional; more if she overused Ingwaz or Kenaz during class.
"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: The Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients, you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing," Professor Snape continued. And with the flick of his wand, the instructions appeared behind him. "The ingredients and method are on the blackboard. You will find everything you need in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half… start."
When they needed to make potions, Professor Snape would always mark the brewing instructions on the blackboard at the front of the class. However, Daphne had noticed that the procedures would without fail always be slightly different from those in the course book. Was this what Professor Snape meant by innovating? But innovation might have been too much to ask for those who had trouble following even the simplest instructions; unless they too had tried innovating upon Professor Snape's modified recipes, but failed miserably?
The instructions for the Draught of Peace weren't too complicated in Daphne's opinion, but they necessitated a lot of fiddling with clockwise and anticlockwise stirring, temperature changing, wand tapping, and precise timings on when to add ingredients.
Suddenly, inspiration struck her; the beginnings of a plan began drawing themselves in Daphne's mind. The potion could be simplified without affecting its potency negatively, but would her theory survive practice? She quickly glanced at Professor Snape; if he could do it, why couldn't she?
And so, Daphne managed to completely disregard the required timings, completing her potion in half the time it ought to have taken, which impressed even Professor Snape.
Half an hour later, the rest of the class, Oleandra included, were nearing the end of the brewing process. Oleandra thanked her lucky stars that there was no more cauldron-sharing business: her old potioneering partner Neville's cauldron was belching rancid fumes, instead of the silver vapour it was supposed to be emitting…