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Heinrich Hexenmeister, Aladren
A taste of home
Wed Sep 12, 2018 12:03
167.219.0.176

Heinrich liked potions. It was a clean (in a metaphorical sense if not always literally), straightforward subject that had little room for error or imprecision. If you followed the directions perfectly, you got a perfect potion. It was satisfying in its lack of sympathy, because if it worked, then you knew you did it right. There was no subjectivity, no room for misinterpretation. And the ingredients were all comfortingly familiar, even if the teachers here sometimes gave them different names. His kit and his book were both printed in German, though, so he didn’t have any trouble with that unless he needed to borrow something from the school’s stores.

And this year, Professor Brooding was even labeling those in German, too.

The worst part was the introductory lecture, which was unavoidably in English. Still, his understanding was getting quite good, even if his speaking left a lot of room for improvement, and he was usually able to follow at least the gist if not the whole thing. If he had questions, he came for office hours, but usually his German text resolved anything he didn’t fully catch during the lecture.

Today, though, there was no ‘turn to page this’ instruction, no clear recipe to follow with precise attention to detail. And she was talking about . . . soup?

This was not the script he had been expecting and he was having trouble keeping up. They were supposed to made food? But with potion ingredients mixed in?

He went up to the front, zeroing in on the book she offered for extra study that was written in German. It was indeed a cookbook. Okay. This was good. It had recipes with clearly defined steps and instructions he could follow. It was like brewing after all.

As he flipped through the pages, he was even surprised to recognize some of the dishes. His family’s elves had made some of these.

Cradling the book to his chest he brought it back to his desk. He was tempted by an apple strudel that looked just like the ones he and Hilda would swipe from the kitchen, but it had an awful lot of ingredients and all of the example foods had been cooked in cauldrons so he wasn’t sure if oven baking a strudel was even possible.

He flipped through a few more pages, and stopped at some mouth watering looking pretzels. He loved pretzels. And now he really wanted one. And the ingredient list was not so terrifying as with the strudel.

He raised his hand and asked the professor, “Can I a pretzel bake? Gives it an oven?”

Once he was assured a small fire oven would be available, he began collecting his ingredients. He mixed together his dough, including a dash of powdered dragon claw to give the snack an extra boost to the brain.

As he began mixing and kneading the dough into a uniform consistency, he glanced over at his neighbor to see what she was doing. He had selected her as a good choice to sit beside based on her Aladren badge.

“What makest d-you?” he questioned curiously, narrowly avoiding the use of the singular informal second person in German. He thought he might have blended German and English on the verb, too, but it was too late to fix that. He thought he recognized some of the herbs she was putting into her cauldron, but those were mildly poisonous so he was probably wrong. They probably just looked like some of the plants his mother had grown in her garden.

  • Do you realize what you've done?Topaz Brockert, Aladren, Sat Sep 8 11:27
    It had been fairly recent that the entire school had found out about Cleo James being a half-veela and Topaz found this utterly fascinating. She had many times experimented on less advanced life... more
    • A taste of home — Heinrich Hexenmeister, Aladren, Wed Sep 12 12:03
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