Here, the wheat truly began to separate itself from the chaff. Horatio rather conspicuously removed his spectacles to gain a better view of Miss Warbeck's potion, which seemed to have formed clumps. Even Greengrass, allegedly a potioneer by trade, proved a complete and utter disappointment; surely his livelihood would diminish rapidly before long.

He dismissed these two, and was left with three, generally proving age brought with it experience or, at the very least, general usefulness.

"Those who remain have proved adequate," the wizard intoned, "but only one will prove victorious. Your final potion will be veritaserum. You may begin."

Frankly, Horatio had very little confidence even in the remaining professionals, for whom not even a list of ingredients had been supplied in this round.

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Henry Berkwood Perseus Flint Titania Allaway

WARBECK 6.5 | BERKWOOD 8 | ALLAWAY 12.5 | GREENGRASS 7 | FLINT 13.5

  

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Well, obviously Harry had gotten this far. He had whatever the opposite of impostor syndrome was*. As such, he got to brewing veritaserum with enthusiasm.

(*Ego. The word he was looking for was ego.)

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The following 1 user Likes Henry Berkwood's post:1 user Likes Henry Berkwood's post
   Aldous Crouch

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set by Bee! <3

Perseus was not all too surprised to have made it this far and he was pleased to see that one of his healers had as well. When they were given their next potion to brew, Perseus set about doing so.

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The first round brought with it a bit of joy. Titania was rather proud of her potion, but allowed the results to speak for themselves. Giving a polite nod to the two remaining men, Titania set to work on her veritserum.

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MJ revealed this beauty

For the first time in the competition, Horatio was... not impressed, but satisfied with the results of Mr. Flint, who had produced a "sound effort" (flawless) at veritaserum. It helped that the competition was... not doing well. Young Mr. Berkwood's mix had eaten through the bottom of his cauldron and the table upon which it sat, and likely the floors would need to be refinished. Miss Allaway (Miss! At her age!) fared even worse: her cauldron had combusted entirely, leaving her drenched in a white sludge that looked familiar in a way a gentleman could not ponder overlong.

"The winner," he announced wholly unnecessarily, "is Mr. Flint."

Congratulations, Perseus Flint!

BERKWOOD 9 | FLINT  14.5 | ALLAWAY 8.5

  

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