Archer Belby was not in the least bit special. In fact, he was perhaps the least special person Idunn Fraser had ever encountered. Fortunately, she did not need someone to sample the finished potion, just a simple concoction that may or may not have adverse effects on the drinker—and thus, could not be administered to someone she was actually friends with.  

Idunn had entirely tuned out whatever story Syna was telling, only nodding occasionally to feign engagement as she watched the first year across the table surreptitiously. The third year regretted that she did not have her journal with her, but she had supposed that would be too conspicuous. Instead, the redhead would have to pay careful attention to all that transpired and commit it—in detail—to memory to record later.

Passing the boy the pumpkin juice had been an uncharacteristically kind gesture, but had afforded the young potions enthusiast the opportunity she needed to slip the concoction into the goblet. Had he taken a sip when she wasn’t looking, Idunn wondered? Or had the cup remained untouched beside him?