Cauldron explosions were par for the course during Potions Competitions. Burns were most common, but there were also a number of things that could go wrong where the ingredients were concerned. It was quite normal for them to have to cross-reference remedies when it came to amateurs not knowing what they were doing. Which was currently the type of patient that Sybella was dealing with. She bustled around the patient on the bed, occasionally letting the clinking of glasses and beakers drown out the brief mutterings of Italian that she let out under her breath.

Thankfully, her reprieve came in the form of Healer Hunter. “Ah!” She greeted her warmly, arms spread in thanks. “Meno male, Healer Hunter.” She turned to put the beakers back down and summoned the chart. Waving her wand she cast a a diagnostic spell and let it hum above the patient’s head while she gave her colleague the summary. “This is Mr. Silverman, he was in the potions competition. Calming Draught potion,” Sybella knew Tori most likely had looked over the duplicate chart already, but such was the theatrics of healing; this was mostly for the patient’s benefit in case he wanted to chime in with anything. Though with his head half-wrapped in bandages, it wasn’t likely he was going to be able to get a word in edgewise. “The problem is, as you can see, Mr. Silverman is currently not at liberty to verbally express the exact percentage of ingredients or what stage his cauldron blew up. I was hoping you might have a clue.”