Chapter 5

5

F our attacks. The last month had been a whirl of disorder and romance. Did everyone on campus seem happier somehow? Sure, because most of them had realized they had feelings for each other, and new couples were forming left and right.

But that didn't stop the drama every time another love potion attack occurred. It had happened four times now, all in less than a month.

The days following the attacks were the worst. Couples who had started relationships during the first or second attack met their demise when the next attack revealed that their affections also lay elsewhere, tearing romances apart at the seams.

It was frightening and entertaining all at once, but I was ready for it to end.

And with Ivy's incessant prodding, concern built in me. I couldn't allow myself to like anyone here because I didn't want to be affected by the potion. They still hadn't caught the witch or wizard responsible, meaning there could be more potion distribution.

I wasn't sure who the head investigator of this was, but they were doing a terrible job, as they hadn't even determined how the potion was being administered.

Admittedly, I'd felt a little...off since it all began, as it reminded me how truly alone and unwanted I was. More so, I worried that my constant thinking about it would convince my brain to latch onto someone. That would leave me a lovesick fool next time, and I wouldn't be having that.

With all the textbooks I'd been reading from the library, I determined my next step forward. The enforcers and investigators weren't getting anywhere, so I would not leave my fate in their hands. More importantly, I could be the one to fix the problem and prevent this insanity from continuing. I assumed responsibility for the well-being of this campus, seeing as no one else apparently cared.

A few hours had passed since dinner, and the sun was setting, so I snuck across campus into the Potions building. I hadn't been in this building much, since my mastery was in Policy, but I had taken one potion class last year and knew my way around. There was a ward in place to keep out students after hours, but spells like that were easily broken, especially by someone like myself, who was more than talented with spells.

Once I was in, I took the stairwell to the fourth floor, where the graduate lab was. There were no wards on the room, so I walked right in and set down my bag, pulling out the two books and notebook I had packed.

Before even opening anything, I wandered to the supply closet, pulling out all the things I had used in the recipe I created last night. I may have stayed up way too late, yet again, to create the perfect concoction, and I prayed it would work.

If it didn't, I would stay here until classes started tomorrow. I was determined to solve this issue, no matter what kind of time commitment that required.

Arranging the potion supplies on the lab bench, I opened my notebook to the page where I'd written out my steps. Placing a cauldron in front of me, I started with the first ingredient, which was the same as the base ingredient for the love potion. My theory was that the antithesis to a love potion would be constructed of mostly the same ingredients. I charmed the cauldron to start boiling the salt water.

From a young age in my magical education, I wanted to be a Potions Master. I loved the idea of creating new potions to help with distinct problems and even creating ones just for recreational purposes. Choosing ingredients and preparing them the correct way was a methodical process that I loved more than anything else, a puzzle I was eager to solve.

I'd chosen Policy as my mastery because it appeared the most practical. There were ample jobs available for Policy Masters, so I would never have to worry about career security.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much job demand for Potion Masters. The jobs that existed were prestigious and competitive, and with people like Noah Lawrence graduating at the same time as me, I would have no chance. His family connections would grant him a higher probability of interviews and opportunities, as his parents were prominent members of society. People like him were well-connected, and I was not. That made my choice easy—a Policy Mastery would provide a career where I could advance quickly, and success was my priority.

While the saltwater heated, I started chopping rain bark into one-centimeter squares then moved on to crushing stale plums and grinding fig leaves.

I leaned over the cauldron to see how it was coming along, steam billowing in my face. I loved that feeling; I missed it, if I was honest with myself.

It felt too nice to be back in my element, in a place where I'd always loved experimenting and testing the limits of my own mind. Writing the recipe and deducing how a potion could work was the highlight of my week, and I had far too much fun doing it.

To make it even better, I was in the brewery all by myself, which was something I'd always wished for in undergrad. There were no other students to bother or annoy me while I brewed this potion. Perhaps I could also sneak in here during the next attack when the rest of the students were otherwise engaged.

I jolted at the sound of the door opening, my head snapping up. It was only slightly ajar, and I waited with bated breath, watching for whoever came through the door. I hoped it was a student and not a professor, because I couldn't deal with getting any write-ups tonight. Or ever. But it wasn't like I could hide.

When the door didn't move anymore and no one came through, I resumed my work, chalking it up to a draft. I must not have latched the door shut in my haste to get started.

I positioned the mortar over the cauldron and began sprinkling in the ground fig leaves. Bubbles formed as the tiny flecks hit the surface, and I had to make sure I didn't add them too fast.

"Baker."

I jumped at the baritone calling my name, dumping the rest of the fig leaves into the cauldron by accident. I may have also let out a yelp of surprise as I looked up, finding Noah Lawrence leaning against the doorway. His hands were in his pockets, bag slung over his shoulder and ankles crossed, ever the picture of a casual prat.

The bubbling from the cauldron pulled my attention away from him, else I would have glared daggers in his direction. I'd dumped the fig leaves in there too quickly, and now, it was ruined. I wasn't too far along in the brew, but my anger still boiled just like my botched potion.

Taking a few breaths, I stepped away from the workbench to let the reaction fizzle out before I dumped the cauldron.

"What are you doing in here, Baker?" Lawrence asked, and I scowled at him.

"Making a potion."

"That's a shame. I thought you were making a late-night snack. I'm famished," he deadpanned, sneering at me.

"Too bad. I'm sure the dining hall has leftovers in the dumpster. Maybe you could try that?" My voice held so much venom, and only part of that was because of my frustration with the potion. The rest of it was just the fact that Noah Lawrence existed.

"Afraid not. I'm here to make a potion as well." He walked around the workbench and set his bag right next to me. I glared at that stupid leather bag.

Seriously, who got their initials embossed on their bag? Only pretentious pricks, that was who.

"Unfortunate that you're already here. I was hoping for some quiet."

"I'm shocked you even know what that is, since you're always blabbering on about how amazing you are."

"Careful, Baker. I think your jealousy is showing." Noah leaned against the counter, his green eyes narrowed at me.

"I loathe you." I was at the end of my rope these days and had no better comeback for his remark.

"The line between loathing and loving is very close, Baker. I'd be careful if you want to stay on the right side of that line." His full lips pulled up into a smirk that I felt the strong desire to smack. "Now, move."

"Excuse me?" I furrowed my brow at him, watching as he started unpacking his bag, putting his books right next to mine.

"You are in my spot. Move."

"I was here first. Pick another bench!" I crossed my arms, finally glaring at him in the way I wanted.

He pushed my cauldron aside, putting his own in its place. I could see amusement painting his features as strands of dark blond hair fell over his forehead.

"You chose Policy, not Potions. I'm in this brewery every single day, and this is my bench. You can find another spot." He didn't even look at me as he picked up my notebook to move it. Instead of placing it somewhere else, his eyes stalled over the page, and he stopped, pulling it closer to him.

"Stop, that's—"

"Anti-love potion?" he mused, a smile forming on his face. "And here I thought you didn't fancy me."

"Give that to me!" I said, reaching for the notebook, but this bastard raised it above his head, far out of my reach. His arms had to have been at least twice as long as mine, not to mention the foot of height he had on me.

"I'm just going to look over your notes, Baker. See what you came up with."

"I don't need you proofreading my recipe!" I jumped, trying to grab the notebook from him with burning cheeks.

Accidentally, I had gotten much too close and effectively chest-bumped him. To make things even worse, I stumbled when my feet connected with the ground and tumbled backward.

Before I could land on my back, Noah's arms wrapped around me, the spirals of my notebook digging into my back where it wedged between his hand and my sweater.

"See?" Noah taunted, a grin showing off his perfect teeth. His face was only centimeters from mine, and I could smell the spicy mint of his breath. "You're already falling for me. Maybe you do need this potion."

Noah pulled me back to standing, handing me the notebook. He looked completely unruffled by that little move, yet my heart was racing.

"You should just come back some other time. Like you said, you're here every day. I had to sneak past the wards for this." I started moving his things back, avoiding looking at him. Would he be able to tell how hot my face was?

"Lucky for you, I'm here to make the same thing. Sorry to tell you, but your little recipe is wrong." And just like that, my cheeks burned with anger.

"What do you mean it's wrong?" I looked up at him and leaned against the bench. "I stayed up all night researching."

"You didn't take into account that fig leaves and toad slime will cause a positive reaction, not a negative one. Meaning that if you were to complete the potion and take it, you would have just made a—"

"Stronger love potion. Dammit." He was right, and I had to turn away to hide my embarrassment. In all my calculations, I didn't think about the toad slime reacting with the fig leaves instead of the pond algae. But since fig leaves were the stronger reducer, that would indeed react with the slime before the algae would. I rubbed a hand over my face in exasperation. All that work last night, just for me to make a lousy mistake.

I turned my body away from him, hating that he, of all wizards, would catch the mistake. My rival. My arch nemesis. My public enemy since the day we met.

What was I going to do? Just leave? Start over at the drawing board? I guessed that was my only option.

Keeping my gaze downcast, I started gathering my things. "I'll get out of your way." I shoved things in my backpack as quickly as possible, not even bothering to pay mind to where I was putting them. The sooner I left, the better. Then, I would hide in my room and probably eat a pint of ice cream to soothe my sorrow.

"Hey," Noah said, grabbing my wrist and stopping me just short of grabbing the cauldron by the handle. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure my recipe isn't perfect either. It's all theoretical for now."

I raised a brow at him and made eye contact, seeing no mocking there. This was...unlike him.

He held my wrist and gaze for a few more seconds before dropping both and moving things around on the counter. He pulled my backpack from my hands, retrieving the notebook from inside.

"Let's just...compare recipes. I think two sets of eyes would be good for this." He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and looked away from me.

Was he suggesting we work together? We'd been in school together for over eight years, and not once had I ever considered working with him.

Why? Well, for one, he was an asshole, plain and simple. Two, we were always at odds, always in competition with one another. We were only two years into our postgraduate, and I was only now calm about how he beat me out of the top spot in our college class.

"I thought the potion didn't affect you. Why are you trying to make an anti-potion?" I crossed my arms, not quite ready to concede.

Noah's lips tipped up. "I never said it didn't affect me. I just have enough self-control and awareness to not be blinded by it."

"That's impossible! If it affected you, there's no way you could overcome it." I snatched his notebook off the table, flipping through it in search of his recipe.

"Untrue. The love potion is not entirely irresistible." Gently, he grabbed the notebook and turned it to the right page before handing it back.

"Thank you," I muttered softly.

I read through the steps of his recipe, steps he had annotated with explanations for why he chose each ingredient and method. It was painstakingly detailed and…perfect. I had no notes to offer.

"Well?" He tapped his fingers on the underside of the journal for my attention.

I didn't want to comment. Complimenting him was probably the worst possible thing I could imagine; it went against every fiber of my being.

"We could give it a try." I kept all emotion out of my voice and avoided his eyes.

"Are you saying it looks correct?" His finger and thumb grabbed my chin, tilting my face up to his, where a wicked grin taunted me.

"I'm saying…it's worth a shot."