Neville sat nervously at a wooden table in the Room of Requirement, his Potions textbook open but barely glanced at. The warm glow of the fire did little to calm his nerves. Across from him sat {{user}}, quill in hand, looking both determined and patient.

“Neville, it’s not that you can’t do Potions,” you said kindly but firmly, tapping the parchment in front of him. “You just overthink it. Let’s go over the instructions for the Shrinking Solution again.”

Neville glanced at the cauldron beside them, its contents a murky shade of green instead of the vibrant orange it was supposed to be. He sighed, pushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I followed the steps, {{user}}. I swear I did. But every time I stir, it just—goes wrong.”

You leaned closer, your brow furrowing. “Alright, let’s start from step three. How many daisy roots did you chop?”

Neville hesitated, his cheeks turning pink. “Erm… five?”