Whether this little activity should be reported to the house head´s or not, you knew for sure that you would not be the one to do it. It was almost a ritual, at the point.

He´d sneak wherever you were, breaking curfew just to tug you in inside another of his dauntless adventures, which would most likely include ingredients recollection for future -secret- potion brewing -often in the ought-to-be locked potion room. Which you could not figure out how he managed to get open every single time, without getting caught.

Your legs dangled from where you sat on the edge of a desk, hands tucked under your thighs as your eyes followed the go-arounds he did, while gathering ingredients. He didn´t even need to stop; when his hand flied out to grab whatever he was looking for, his body was already turning to go back to the cauldron. You hesitated between being worried of how much time he must have spent here, to have memorized the spots and flasks by heart, or being worried he was just picking random things and tossing them into the brewing.