"...and a 'Bah Humbug'!": Apothecary Christmas

Christmas Eve.

In the silence of the evening, after all those in the congregation have gone home, a lone figure in black blends with the shadows in a corner of the nave, offering secret prayers for one who has long since ceased to witness Christmas in this world...

Happy holidays, Severus.

Yuletide at the Apothecary! Here's our little live tree, with candy canes and a few other ornaments. Beneath the glass table was a mound of presents wrapped in brightly colored tissue paper. Since it was "volunteer appreciation night" as well as our Solstice festival, the presents were gifts to each of us who offer our time there in exchange for knowledge. There was also a potluck feast with the most delicious food – a little something for every taste!

Below is the altar, surrounded by the traditional holly, and special "consecrated" cupcakes as well as the ingredients we used to create holy water for the Solstice: rosemary for purification and protection, and essential oils of every persuasion (the tiny labeled bottles in the lower left).


Bottom: Christmas potions! Two bottles of beautiful, newly extracted St. John's Wort oil, a 4-oz of fragrant holy water and an ancient carven treasure of a snuff bottle (I like to pretend it's either emerald, a relic of Salazar Slytherin, or both!) for any sort of extra-special concoction.

Solstice in the Rose Garden

Wizards and Muggles alike may be preparing to celebrate the holiday, but the land is not – it sleeps and waits, like a hibernating serpent, barren but for the steadfast evergreens and weeds. Fresh, wildcrafted potions ingredients are distinctly difficult to come by, for few plants claim winter as their season.

There are exceptions, of course. One was the Holy Thorn Tree in Glastonbury, England, so recently cut down by those ridiculous vandals (though I have seen worse), which bloomed at Christmas and Easter; even now there is a little tree in the park which has insisted on sprouting fragrant pink buds! In mid-December! Hope is a fool's dream, yet it seems to sprout eternal in certain living beings who all but force the rest of us to recognize it. Lily was one of those beings – she never gave up hope. Even in me. But she was wise to distance herself from me and what I became... or rather try: it wasn't far enough... not far enough away...

And this is the sort of thing she would have done. It is refreshing change from knocking the heads off for once, as I no doubt will this spring when I have had enough of finding stray, disgusting love notes and rose petals on the dungeon floor after every Potions class. But this afternoon, there is only peace in the barren garden, under the soft flannel blanket of a still gray sky... only me and my thoughts of her, and the quiet, determined budding of life in the dark night of the year.


This Solstice, what with a full-moon eclipse, we truly had the "darkest-of-the-dark" we've had in 400-odd years! Such portents of the times! A darkened and/or reddened moon facilitates very powerful tranformative magick for us witches and warlocks. How fitting I should spend it in this Snapey phase of life I'm in (the Sun is also in his sign of Capricorn of course). We were unable to see the eclipse in Portland, due to the cloud cover, but I did at least encapsulate the energy by concocting a blood-red potion for later use. We had a lovely Solstice party and volunteer appreciation night at the Apothecary, with a potluck feast, presents, and a ceremony. I was overjoyed to receive a textbook for a high-rated Masters program in planetary herbology – but then again, I'm simply weird that way.

There really is a small tree in Washington Park that is coming out right now with tiny, sweet-smelling pink flowers. The top photo is Portland's International Rose Test-Garden, as it appears in midwinter... minus one sneaky Slytherin, of course.

Knowledge Exquisite

Tonight was miraculously, mercifully free of staff meetings, exam and assignment grading, detentions, or other equally irksome necessities of a Professor's life. I indulged myself at last, perusing a few old tomes off the top shelf and testing a couple of the formulas, noting some possible improvements. Alas – when will I next have such a pleasure? I know not.

Above: photo of my formula log. All potion notes and recipes typically wind up in here.

I've recently finished my first main module of study for my medicinal herbal apprenticeship! Very proud. I don't have nearly as strict a taskmaster as Snape, of course – in fact, we are to complete projects on our own time. However, I love the subject so much that I put a great deal of effort into the work, without being urged by another. And the references! The source books I find, from which to include juicy extra tidbits... the dear herbals, from Matteson (1847), to Green (2004)... The Master herbalist told me she couldn't wait to read it. I hope I've done well by her. "Let me know what I can do better," I pointed out, "since this is my first one!"























One of the things I absolutely, bar none, hated about Book 7 was the burning of the Room of Requirement. All those books! All that knowledge, lost! The findings of centuries, up in smoke! Including, we must presume, the experimental discoveries of the Half-Blood Prince. I am reminded far too much of the burning of the library of Alexandria, a travesty in an age when all manuscripts had to be copied by hand. Ack!!! How I cringe to think of it. That sentiment alone, for the sacredness of knowledge, especially esoteric, must surely slap me as either a Ravenclaw or a Slytherin. Due to my fondness for Snape and tendency to consider the "Gray" possibilities (I avoid outright Black if possible), I tend to angle toward Slytherin.

In Portland as in London

One of my third-year Slytherins stumbled into double Potions this afternoon veritably soaked to the skin and dripping, with more than a little mud to compliment his appearance. The weather is damper than a kelpie's back, and in addition, this particular fellow ran afoul of some Gryffindors who prevented him from remaining upright as he came back from Care of Magical Creatures – hence, the mud. I had to be especially cautious and thorough with this poor dunderhead: water introduced into this particular olium venenum- based potion can cause boil-overs and explosions. Thank Merlin for "scourgify", drying charms, and detentions for Gryffindors.

Today it poured rain. Here in western Oregon, when winter comes, so do the rains, and they continue unabated for about six months with a few breaks here and there.

But this afternoon, I found I did not mind the rain. On my way home from buying groceries, I happened to find myself behind two of Portland's horseback mounted police. I followed them almost all the way home, in the peaceful, wet grayness of the early evening, watching the rippling muscular rumps of the horses, and the white helmets of their riders barely bobbing along, and imagined myself in London. My family is from England – I went there as a junior and miss it terribly, so any excuse for a brief fantasy lapse is all right by me.


My friend passed me as I paused, mid-crosswalk, to take this main street intersection picture, yelling, "Sev, you're gonna get run over that way!!!"

Good cloak weather. Just make sure that you pick your old cloak and don't mind a few mud stains, because anything off the pavement is pure trouble.

Young Severus and the Dream Hair

I never was one for showing emotions in a world where showing emotions could get you picked on, pranked, beat up, ratted out, tortured, killed... early on I discovered that my hair was yet one more way to disguise my feelings and thoughts – a curtain of mystery. Woe betide those who are caught in the beam of even one keen eye!

My latest shot of the "Dream Snape-Hair". Gods! but I am exceedingly proud of that shine! Dr. Bronner's Castille soap, olive oil, and yes, natural grease. I love this picture, which lends to young Severus an air of mystique like that of some raven Lord, a shadow prince... or, if female, a harem-princess who packs a stiletto and poison!

These Creeping Moods

Silky gray skies, crisp winds with a caress almost as sharp as my words; the weak sun makes hardly a three degree angle with the horizon, and one is tempted to tell it to just give up. On the Malfoy estate today, already-dormant trees spread their bare, gnarled branches toward the dark gray masonry of the outer wall. I, Severus, am lurking again. Big surprise there. A black cloaked shadow slithers among the moss-festooned trunks of the shrubs, on the twigs of which a few dying, yet determined leaves cling feebly. After a chat and a drink, I eventually take leave of my old friend Lucius with inner pockets comfortably crammed with tidbits gleaned from the rolling landscape of the estate – new hemlock leaves, fallen castor beans in their spiky husks, wild roots, bright seeds still in the pod...

Let the brewing begin yet again.

World-famous Hair

I washed my hair today. That is something that does not happen very often. Once a week maximum – frequently less than that. Oh, I hear the sniggers and the sing-song ridiculing, from what the little dunderheads only think is behind my back (spies have sharp ears). The female ones, especially, complain in winter how the dry, cold air makes their hair frizzy. Now, of course you'll complain, you little fools, when you wash it every day! And use drying spells on it, of all things! Let the natural grease build up! Mine stays soft and silky, even when exposed to the fumes from dozens of cauldrons all day long. But the benefits of hair as oily as mine will, no doubt, be sought or learned by few.

Severus Snape is famous for his greasy hair. In fact, my hair care regimen was a lot more like Snape's to begin with than the every-morning shower wash that a lot of people think is "normal", so going "fully Snape" in my hair methods was a surprisingly easy transition to make. I, too, wash my hair once a week or less and, get this!, if it's not greasy enough, I add olive oil or avocado compound to it! The results are deliciously silky, shiny and supple. And since I make my own hair-care potions, I get to laugh myself sick at all those expensive, petroleum-based compounds in the supermarket hair aisle. A whole aisle of them, will you believe. Silly Muggles.

This photo is a joke on Snape. No, I do not actually use axle grease on my hair. Makes for a cute pic though. What I do use is this potion I made... (Don't have the patience, or a lab? Aw, what a shame! Better go to the salon.)

















Snape's Secret Sauce (abbreviated)

3 cups apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup dried sage
1/4 cup dried rosemary
1.5 Tbs. yarrow leaves/flowers
2 Tbs. thyme
1 Tbs. dried elderberries
1 Tb. ground coffee
1 Tb. cloves
3 witch-hazel twigs, diced
Few drops Boyajian lime
10-20 drops favorite essential oil(s) to balance scent of vinegar

Grind all ingredients to powder with mortar and pestle. Warm vinegar in cauldron to just boiling. Add all but last two ingredients (oils are volatile!!!) to vinegar, simmer for 5 minutes, turn off heat, and steep as brew cools. When cool, place in jar, add oils, and macerate for 7 days; strain and bottle. Use 1/8 to 1/4 cup per 2 cups water, no more than twice per month, as a hair rinse.

Class in Session: The Oil of Thieves

Qui omnes insidias timet in nullas incidit

He who fears every ambush falls into none.

"Protego!!!"


"If you let us go free, we'll give you the recipe!"
Three thieves were said to have pleaded this during the Black Plague when they were caught raiding victims' houses – captors demanded to know how they'd escaped sickness. Well, it makes for a good tale. Below is, supposedly, their recipe, which is crammed with disinfectant, antimicrobial plant oils. Don't get sick this winter!

Thieves' Oil

Equal Parts of the following essential oils:
Rosemary
Eucalyptus
Cinnamon
Clove
Lemon

...and Giving Thanks again: Ouroboros

Today I did something I haven't done in a long time: I purchased red meat for dinner. For someone who literally cannot remember the last time this happened (years?) this was a huge deal. Why now? Perhaps, as a woman, I had just come off the Cycle and therefore craved iron and red substance? Obviously it was more than that – it was Time, the right occasion to celebrate a much deeper mystery of existence, as well as events in my own life.

And I cried. This occasion, of consuming material that would actually become my body, was both an occasion of great joy and great sadness – for it is one of Life's terrible mysteries, and miracles, that Life feeds upon Life and is thus renewed. This archetype is depicted by the Ouroboros, the ancient Alchemical symbol of the snake eating its tail. The act of eating part of the body of another animal, raw, reveling in the taste while simultaneously weeping and thanking it for its life was a deeply profound moment of intense transformation. (Lesser so for the leaves of spinach, but still felt it.) The sacred food, or sacr-ifice. Right then, I realized I had a duty to live, to break out of this self-pitying, wallowing stupor I've been stuck in and use my talents to their fullest, for nothing less than honoring the lives of all the life-forms that have, literally, *made me*. What would it mean, for us and the world, if we all gave thanks for our sustainers to this degree?

Mind, I do not advocate eating too much red meat, for the effects of its production on the environment are rather detrimental. Nor is it good eating it without engaging in hard, physical work, for the results of our culture's dietary imbalances are obvious! This ceremonial capacity is an unusual circumstance.

What on Earth does this have to do with Snape?!?!

First, this special day is a Saturday (Saturn-day!), the day I hold ritual practice. I am a Mage – not the silly role-play-gaming kind, but a wisdom-seeker – accepting of both Eastern and Western mystic practices. According to modern Alchemist D.W. Hauck, Saturn was the most important planet to the Alchemists, as it was the ruler of Time: it represented both the lowest beginning level, and the ultimate goal. Alchemists believed metals evolved from lead, the base metal of Saturn, to the gold of the Sun, and similarly, people evolved spiritually, completing each step of refinement before beginning the cycle once again. Saturn was the starting point of a new cycle of spiritual growth, as well as the returning point after the completion of the cycle, but a full "octave" higher – like a clock's hand in the same place after a cycle of time has elapsed. This cyclic-spiral pattern can be observed in the octaves of musical scales, and also in the days of the week, in which Saturday is the end of one week, and the beginning of another. Death and rebirth. The Ouroboros.


I didn't know most of this stuff, when I began holding prayer on Saturday night instead of Sunday morning. I only knew I liked worshiping at night more, and that Saturn's night seemed more of a "charged" time. It's also appropriate for Severus, who is a Saturnine force (self-knowledge, restrictions, limits, time, death/rebirth, midwinter, midnight). From what I know of Rowling and her interest in Alchemy, I bet it's no coincidence she chose this most personal and intricate of characters to be Saturnian in his birthday (Jan. 9th) and personality! Among our many saints, lots of folks have already noted the existence of several "St. Severi" throughout history. Other "Severan" practices held this night include chanting Latin litanies and consecrating concoctions and potions made during the past week. One has to be a bit careful, however, unless one wants the altar space to become infested with little bottles. (The big one is a holy relic simulacrum, it stays.)

A final interesting tidbit: Saturn people can be known to have a very caustic side, able to "store acid" as lead does, reminding us of Snape and his trait, sarcastic – literally, to strip away flesh!

Giving thanks Snape-style

This Thanksgiving, it is not celebrated in the British Isles. Better to be grateful for something every day. Besides two brutal masters and apparently no future, what have I to be grateful for? For now I'll stick with a decent bed, hot food, a chemistry set to play with, a meager paycheck, and black coffee. Could be worse, I could be in Azkaban.

SnarK snaRk snark snrk sNARk SNARKsnrksnark SNArK ! !

What, you expected something more profound? Maybe some heart warming little tidbit about what a lovely Thanksgiving I had? This is the woman who shares her soul with Severus Snape, of all people, for cryin' out loud!!!!! Let's make a deal. You head on over to someone else's happy, cheerful little blog with Kincade paintings on it, and I'll go puke on someone else's doorstep. I did call my Grandmother, who is alone. I called my Dad, who is sad and alone. And, yes, I am alone. Thanksgiving is one of those holidays for nice perfect little families with five kids and the material possession of the American Dream who can delude themselves, for a little while, that we are not at the end of each and every day alone – in our thoughts, our dreams, and at the end of our lives! Yes, we all face similar challenges and hopes and can identify with each other through all that good stuff. But ultimately, we're also scrabbling over one another like rats in the lab cage – and only one person has to live with you 24-7-365. You. And yes, you will die.

Now, go have some dead bird, mashed vegetable matter and hot chocolate.

Winter begins at Spinner's End

The temperature is dropping here. It was 25°F today, with a predicted 18°F tonight; a chance of snow flurries likely. At last, I can leave the laboratory and take a long walk up Vista Hill, buttoned up in frock and cloak as I am wont to prefer, without a single danger of overheating. I made a quick trip to Spinner's End to unearth a couple of old books, and found the place cold as a banshee's nipple in a brass bra and dirty as ever. Still, sometimes I actually find peace there. No floo-calls from Albus. No students banging on the office door, "Professor Snape sir!!!" for whatever pathetic reason. And after all, the hovel does have a fireplace – and a basement lab. ...Who in Merlin's name is 'Bruce'? Should I even bother with a cleaning charm? They'll be at it again soon as I leave.

Winter Cordial

30ml/2 tsp. fine oatmeal
1 lemon
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
15ml/1 tbsp. demerara sugar
1.2 litres/5 cups boiling water
Optional: 1/2 tsp. ea. cardamon & cloves, pinch cayenne, shot of favorite spirits

Mix oatmeal, sugar and ginger. Grate lemon rind and add. Gradually pour over boiling water while stirring clockwise. Put in saucepan, add juice of lemon and simmer for 10 minutes. Strain and serve hot.

Class in Session: A Professional Blend

It always helps to be in the right place at the right time when students come around the corner, clearly indulging in any one of numerous imbecilic activities when they should be studying for pre-holiday exams. Lurking about as I have found it profitable to do, one is bound to catch a few of them – including my Slytherins – off guard. And it's not as if they don't have plenty to learn...

What does a real potion formula look like? The other day at the Apothecary, I restocked our shelf supply of Colitis blend, made from a number of herbal extracts. Most of these formulae call for quite a few ingredients. A similar one is below. With the ingredients' folk names used, rather than modern names, it looks like this:

Elixir of Rejuvenation

Wonder-of-the-World 37 minims
Maca 52 ms.
Gotu Kola leaves 30 ms.
Hotfruit powder 22 ms.
Tree-of-Wisdom 22 ms.
Bladderwrack 30 ms.
Curcurma 30 ms.
Green Tea 22 ms.
Wild Yam 22 ms.
Ladies' meat 22 ms.
Hyssop 22 ms.
Bamboo Briar 30 ms.
Sang 30 ms.
Sweet Root 7 ms.
Love Herb 7 ms.
Trefoil 7 ms.
Gin berry 7 ms.
Karan gum 7 ms.
Swine snout 7 ms.
Sage 7 ms.
Masterwort 7 ms.
Palmetto fruits 7 ms.

All I can say is, I'm glad I'm not Harry Potter and having to remember that one by heart on exam day! With enough studying, however, it's less scary than it looks – especially as one gets more and more familiar with plants and their powers. Herbalism folks may recognize the major, or primary, ingredients and supporting, or secondary ingredients of this formula.

Note: What the hell is a minim?!?!?! An older unit of liquid measurement equal to 1/80 tsp.!! We have our formulae in teaspoons and fluid ounces, too, since a minim is so tiny.
Another note: Have I revealed the complete formula? Of course not! I am a Slytherin!
Dunderhead tip: Hold the spoon against the bottle lip as you pour or it goes aaaaaaaall over your shoes.

























Back in the day I loved nothing more than this sort of academic pursuit, as I still do, and Potions especially. But every so often, even I needed a break...

Back in Action

Woe is me (Shakespeare used this form, imbeciles – "It is I" is fine, but "Woe is I" is simply pompous modern confusion!)... I've had one decent night to myself and now it's back in the field, rubbing shoulders delicately with students, aurors, Death Eaters and every other manner of undesirable. They nearly caught the "Old Bat" this time, but I flew up the stairs into the belfry and out the vents. And they wonder why I look constipated and put in extra orders of Wiz-Lax from the Apothecary (cheaper than brewing my own). Well, of course! A spy's life is ever the relaxing jaunt.

...and the Morning After...?

Fourteen years ago, when I collapsed on Albus' doorstep begging him for a lifeline, he gave me that infamous proposal and I stared. Surely the man is joking. A slimy, gutter spawned, Crucio leveling bastard like me has no place amongst kids. Not that I'm fond of them anyway. And anything but Potions, where I'm reminded of her and what we shared every ruddy time I turn around and find some idiot's cauldron boiling over.
So this morning, under circumstances of much less duress but after what was still quite a night, I find myself thinking similar thoughts as I did that day:

I really do have a cup that says, "Talk to the cup." It says "snark" on the other side, and goes with the doormat that reads, "get lost".

Hangover Remedies
(besides evapo- concentrated black coffee)

• 2-3 grams Evening Primrose – capsules, take in morning
• Valerian – tincture or fluid extract, 1/2 - 1 tsp. 3x daily
• Morning-After Infusion:
1 tsp. Vervain herb
1/2 tsp. Lavendar flowers
Boil 1 pint (2 cups) water, remove from heat, add ingredients and steep for ten minutes minimum. Drink throughout day.

The Night that went Perfectly

WE DON'T GET HUNG UP ON MORALS – WE DON'T WORRY 'BOUT BREAKIN' HEARTS – WE DON'T CARE, NOT AT ALL – SLYTHERINS JUST WANNA PAAARTY

Potions Master is one thing. But party master? Rarely do I get a good chance to arrange a group of friends for serious fun. But for Deathly Hallows #1, Portland Midnight premier, that's just what I did – from the calls, emails, texts, invites and reservations, to gathering the necessary... um... ingredients.

Lesson learned from last year: Get there at least one-and-a-half hours early. After meeting up for a bite of mac-n'-cheese and some beer at Rock Bottom Brewery, we got in the long, winding line to wait. I was prepped – my Slytherin student bag was bloated, like a snake that had swallowed something three times its girth (broke my zipper, but I fixed it!), with the makings of a full party: snack mixes, organic M&Ms, Bertie Botts' Beans, several home-bottled potions of soft-drink consistency. My hair was freshly greased, my cloak newly embroidered (by my own hands) with my latest promotional insignia, and we were all ready to rumble.

The announcer stood up, bellowing over the heads of the young crowd. They were going to search us! Oh, no!!! No outside food!!!! My bag still hung over my shoulder, bulging under my cape like a Victorian bustle, and I seriously considered just slyin' my way in. What would they do, frisk us? But while Snape-wear is ideal for a cold, blustery Portland evening, it was horrid in that well-heated cinema. If they were gonna search our bags anyway... to heck with it! I whipped off my cloak. We plopped right down on the floor, still in line, and busted out the grub, laughing fit to bust at all the crap stowed in my bag.

Sometimes, the most Slytherin thing to do is ask, albeit in a silky, openly innocent way. No way were they confiscating my stash. Not wanting to be searched and hold up the line, this I did, displaying the bag's contents, whereupon the ticket girl said my "Harry Potter party props" were fine – it was just big fast-food bags and other blatant stuff they had issues with. Yesss!!! However, just in case of a search, I slithered into the bathroom – and stuffed a pocketknife and some fireworks (in case my friends were up for a spark-filled, Potter-esque duel) into my sock. Oops. It's always fun swaggering into Ladies with fake frown lines and a five-o'-clock shadow, or better, a beard. I'm the only woman I know who regularly dons makeup to cause herself to look older.

Bring it on!!!! We scored prime seats toward the back and nestled in. There came the usual parade of silly, cheesy previews, and while I was only "channeling" Sev at one-quarter throttle, I still delivered for each several scathing, flesh cutting comments, letting everyone in hearing range know I was one of those seasoned folks who see through Hollywood's hormone driven appeal to our common animal denominators of sex and survival lust, and was here only to indulge in something I liked before the screen interpreted it...

A quick, slick potions trick came next – I'd had the presence of mind to pack a two-part affair that lights up in a couple of tiny bottles ("Rapidalumos", or "Insta-Lite"?!). I have a "bling-chain" with another tiny bottle on it – a personal status symbol of a pimpin' Dr. Severus Snape. I mixed the potions in the pendant bottle for my friends' benefit, but it actually turned out very useful: my friend lost her cell phone under the seats! As Harry, Ron and Hermione passed the cursed Horcrux locket of Slytherin amongst them, I appropriately, and repeatedly passed my friend my own "magic chain", and she eventually found her Muggle device.

As the movie commenced to cheers, we once again got out the party fixings and tucked in with relish, probably to the chagrin of those next to us. Never let it be said that Party Master Snape is not good to his loyal subjects!

We were rather satisfied with the movie, which is saying something from the point of view of a die-hard book adherent like me who's frequently at odds with film interpretations. I won't give too much away, but... snippets: – The few scenes Jason Isaacs is in, he's damned fine! Bellatrix is more like I imagined her from the book in this movie, thank badness. There are many quiet spaces, with nothing said, equaling whole volumes of description. Quite a good deal of creepiness. And... I still like my wand, Nemesis, better. (Another item I hoped they wouldn't take issue with at the ticket stand...)

We hung out some more, and I finally got home, went to bed at 5:00am, one very fagged-out party animal of a Snape. Thank Merlin it's just a theory exam tomorrow...

HP7 #1 Portland premier - winding up!

"The name's Headmaster!"

The eve of my ascent to the throne of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as depicted in movies is nigh. Spiffing. A position I never wanted. How ironic that we Slytherins are known for our ambitious rise to positions of power, yet every position I have ever held in recent years has been thrust upon me, to be accepted grudgingly out of duty to my Remembered One... ..Lily.... I suppose it is better than a stint in Azkaban. How much, I know not – students can drive one near to madness, while dementors... they can't harm one who has nothing left for them to take.
Apparently I am in only one opening scene of this latest Hollywood travesty, that lovely interlude in Malfoy Manor. So much the better! I loathe the limelight, unlike a certain Mr. Potter –!

Last year, I created this cake for "Snarkfest," on the eve of HP Half-Blood Prince's premier. Chocolate with sour gummi bright crawlers, accompanied by thick dark beer. Not many people came. Oh well, more cake for me! hee hee hee!

Get ready, Potterheads!!!!! 10..9..8..

Class in Session: Cold days and warm brews

Potter's practicing today on the pitch. In this weather! Ha! And he has my exam to study for tonight – if he has any sense at all. Potter, sense...! By now I know that's a pipe dream. Of course he wouldn't dare envy me in any way, but warm and dry am I, in my laboratory. They can have that Quidditch foolishness.

The rains have returned to Portland, as I'm sure they have to England as well. Solid, sopping gray all day, an exercise in leaping puddles with a cat's grace, and angling an umbrella into the driving wind to prevent instant parabolic reversal. The season of clogged street drains. Dark at 4:30pm. Now inside, Glenn Miller lends a cheerful nostalgic air through the magic music box. It is a fine sort of evening for a soft robe, a thick tome and a hot drink. I have instant chai, peppermint coffee... how about a potion:

Mood-Enhancing Wassail Brew
(21- & 21+ versions)

1 tsp. ground ginger
1/4 tsp. grated nutmeg
1 tsp. St. John's Wort herb flowers
1 tsp. Damiana herb leaves
4 apples, roasted & mashed (or pulp)
2 1/4 pints strong ale
brown sugar (add to taste)
21- version: use cider or root beer instead of ale and omit sugar.

Roast apples (425°F), remove skins and cores, & mash them. Heat the ale, or other "liquid base", and add apple pulp. Stir in spices and sugar to taste. Add herbs and steep for ten minutes minimum (use tea strainer if the idea of loose herbs in your brew turns you off). Serve very hot.

Mind-Brightening Tea

2 tsp. St. John's Wort
1 tsp. Rosemary
1 tsp. Ginseng
8 oz./250ml/1 cup Water
Boil water; remove from heat, add herbs. Steep minimum of ten minutes; strain and drink.

Potions 101: Brewing in a Muggle World

My deepening of my Potions experience has been quite an adventure. Unlike in the Harry Potter series, in which "Potions" seems to be a fairly defined field, we've got a lot of leeway here in the real world. Undoubtedly, J.K. Rowling's vision of Potions is much like the precise art of Muggle chemistry, owing to her speckly relationship with her own chemistry professor... as well as having a mother who was the lab assistant of that same professor (John Nettleship).

What about Potions in the real world? The closest approximation I can find to that of the Harry Potter-verse would be somewhere between the vast umbrella of chemistry, regarding reactions and volatility of ingredients(!), and Chinese medicinal herbalism, which uses such wonderful ingredients as scorpions, sulfur, aconite and "dragon bones", and whose preparation method is often by decoction – that is, brewing in a ceramic cauldron of sorts (typically about an hour). Both chemistry and Chinese herbalism can be incredibly precise in their formulas, in measured amounts of ingredients. And both require much experience and caution in order to master.

Additionally, my studies have led me into a number of delightful, cross-disciplinary areas that can be invited under the blanket of the term "potions". These include Western herbalism, which can be used in both an intensely medical and analytical fashion, or a holistic one in the style of Culpeper, Avicenna, and Paracelsus, and the hundreds of unknown – yet no less important – European village healers, midwives, and herb doctors. Of these, many were persecuted horridly, yet thankfully the traditions of herbal medicine and brewing were kept alive by monasteries.

There are potions purely magickal in nature, based in folk belief, Shamanism, Southern rootwork and country Witchcraft. There is the minute-portion method of Homeopathy and Bach flower essences, in which an über-dilute solution retains only the energy imprint of the original substance – like the coded information on a CD. Alchemy combines deep archetypes, astrology, and analogies of spiritual enlightenment with the chemistry of heavy metals and combustion. There is the art of extracting plant oils, then combining those to create scents that influence the mind – Aromatherapy. There is the vast arena of "potions for pleasure", often partnering with medicine – the fermenting of beer and wine, distillation of liquor, and the ever-creative art of bartenders' Mixology. And of course, Toxicology, the study of those particularly dangerous animal, mineral, and plant substances – again frequently medicines in their own right, and the right dose – and their antidotes.

And that is only the beginning. Combining fields produces infinity upon infinity of possibilities, a tapestry as intricate as life itself. Just as no one can ever know everything about magick, an enthusiast of "potions", or Potistry as I like to call it, will be graced with an abundance of never-ending discoveries, if he or she should decide to remain open to them. That is the beauty of this subject, and others – there will always be more to learn! ...Merlin's beard! I sound like Hermione.

Join me, then, as I commence. Class is in session. Don't be late.

To Bewitch the Mind - Journey into Mystery

Welcome to the laboratory. Do look, but I implore you not to touch anything unless otherwise advised.

I feel as if I will never tire from peering into the dark, fuming depths and inhaling the tender scents of power within. No matter how much an art can be reduced to graphs and numbers, no matter how dry we can force science to become, if we let it retain its intuitive wisdom and experiential pleasures, we will be ever more deeply rewarded. Such, for me, is the case with potistry (my word, in the vein of "chemistry").

This "being Snape" business. What defines Shape-shifting? Actors are professional shape-shifters, of sorts. I feel it's a matter of degree. Dressing up as someone, or something, else is one level of becoming. It is another level up the ladder to begin to sense that entity's emotions, movements, and thoughts. Finally, when your body, thoughts, emotions and spiritual story have merged with that of the Other – when you are wearing their skin and dancing their dance to the point you can no longer distinguish yourself from them – the change is complete. And whether it be seeing the forest from a wild cat's eyes, or tasting Snape's bitter satisfaction, the journey can be incredibly fascinating and enlightening. (My own caution here is, a good shape-shifter must guard against getting fully lost in the Other, spirit form!)

In my experiences with the Snape phase, I've "shifted" to several of these different intensity levels. And rightly so. Let's face it, peops! Going out for a drink after the Portland Hallowe'en Zombie Walk is one thing, while full-out, uncensored Snape-energy is a different bag altogether... more suitable to the privacy of my home lab, or maybe a midnight power-walk through the low rent district, one hand on my re-bar wand hilt. They both have their place. And just like with any venture, I'm always learning something new. In this case, I've learned new academic subjects (i.e. medicinal herbs and potions), skills of all sorts, and most importantly, valuable lessons on life.

One cannot know all the colors contained in black until one has donned it – S.J.M.

I share with you bits of my journey here, and encourage you to embark on your own... if you have not already done so. After all, no matter from whom you're learning or through whose eyes you look, this is your life! And unlike those black-covered potion log-books I keep filling up, there are always more blank pages in back.

"...the next great adventure...." Rock on, Sev.