In 1896, Lucy Winstanley stirred the dust on an age-old controversy concerning Potions and Brews. This quick-witted Grimbriar alumna set the academic world ablaze with her now-iconic paper, “Potion vs. Brew,” where she dared to tackle the question that had plagued magical scholars for centuries: What’s the difference between a potion and a brew? Is one inherently better than the other?
On the surface, the distinction might seem trivial. After all, aren’t they just mixtures of magical ingredients? But Lucy Winstanley, in her characteristic no-nonsense style, argued that the matter was far more complex—and far more important—than anyone realized. It wasn’t just about definitions; it concerned an age-old classist distinction. For centuries, potion masters had held themselves above the “lowly” brewers, claiming prestige at the heart of their success, that a well-educated potion master was far more capable of creating greatness than a simple brewer.
Abstract of Potion vs. Brew by Lucy Winstanley, 1896
Abstract: In this paper, I examine the long-standing debate between potion and brew, terms often used not only to distinguish the product, but the creators themselves. Drawing from historical examples, magical theory, and experimental evidence, I argue that the differences lie not only in the method of preparation but also in the intent of the caster, the role of magical influence, and the transformative nature of each. Potions are a precise science, requiring exact measures of ingredients and spells, while brews rely more on intuition, personal magic, and environmental factors. Ultimately, I propose a new framework for understanding the fundamental differences between potions and brews, which has significant implications for both practical magic and magical education. Coupled with this framework, I secondly propose an intellectual reshaping of the class structure associated with each type of science, potentially eliminating the negative bias associated with brews. While both have their purposes in society, the inherently difficult nature of one does not place it above the other in terms of importance.
Winstanley’s argument might sound academic, but don’t let the formal tone fool you—her paper ignited one of the most heated discussions in Grimbriar’s history. Students, professors, and even a few traveling potion-sellers found themselves fiercely divided, with one camp rallying behind potions as the only “true” magical concoctions, and the other defending the more freeform, alchemical nature of brews.
The Birth of a Scholarly Debate
When Winstanley first submitted Potion vs. Brew as her senior thesis, no one expected it to cause much of a stir. Potions were potions, and brews were brews. Sure, some overzealous potion enthusiasts might’ve rolled their eyes at the idea of putting them in the same category, but it wasn’t exactly a hot topic of debate.
But Winstanley had other plans. In her paper, she painstakingly outlined how potions and brews, though often similar in their outward appearance, actually stemmed from entirely different magical philosophies; because of this, a classist heirarchy organically grew from the distinction. According to her, potions were rooted in precision. You needed exact measurements, strict incantations, and a clear purpose. One wrong move, and your potion could turn from a healing tonic to something far less pleasant. The skills requried to perfect potions were often granted to those who could afford such education.
Brews, on the other hand, were a more intuitive art. Winstanley claimed that brews had less to do with exact magical knowledge and more to do with feeling the magic—whether it was stirring a cauldron clockwise until it "felt right" or adding a pinch of powdered root just as the stars aligned. Brews didn’t need strict spellwork to function; they required trust in the environment, a little bit of luck, and a strong connection to the caster’s magical essence. Brews were the "people's potions," often created from familial legacy and locally sourced ingredients.
These distinctions inevitably created a bias amongst mages, where they were aware of it or not. Potions were for the educated, and Brews were for "everyone else."
The Response: Potion Masters in an Uproar
Unsurprisingly, the more traditional potion masters were not thrilled. Many of them felt that Winstanley’s paper undermined centuries of potion-making as an exact science. Professor Gervase Stottle, a staunch potion purist, famously challenged Winstanley to a public debate, which she accepted with relish.
In the grand Grimbriar tradition of magical duels, their “debate” took place not in the lecture halls but in the potions lab, where both Professor Stottle and Winstanley demonstrated the creation of their respective concoctions: Stottle, a classic healing potion with a perfectly measured combination of moonwort, phoenix feather, and a dash of dragon scale; and Winstanley, a “soothing brew” made with just three ingredients she happened to have on hand, which she stirred with her wand for exactly three minutes. (Or, as she put it, “until it felt right.”)
To everyone’s surprise, Winstanley’s brew worked just as effectively as Stottle’s potion, proving her point that not every magical creation required the rigidity of potion-making rules. The crowd was in awe, and though Stottle remained unconvinced, the debate soon spread beyond the walls of Grimbriar, turning into a full-on magical world sensation.
Brewing a New Magical Philosophy
Winstanley’s work didn’t just challenge the distinction between potions and brews; it also raised important questions about how magic was taught. Until then, Grimbriar had treated potions as a rigid, formulaic part of the curriculum, leaving brews largely to hobbyists and those practicing “folk” magic. Winstanley argued that this was a mistake and that the magical world had much to gain from a more inclusive approach to brewing.
Over the next few years, her paper inspired a slew of research on brews, leading to the introduction of Grimbriar’s now-popular elective, “Brews & Infusions: Magic by Intuition,” which remains one of the most well-attended courses at the Academy to this day. And it’s all thanks to Lucy’s rebellious paper.
The Legacy of Potion vs. Brew
Lucy Winstanley’s work continues to influence magical education, and her name is now synonymous with questioning the status quo. She may not have set out to start a revolution, but her sharp mind and willingness to poke at long-held beliefs left an indelible mark on the magical community.
In hindsight, perhaps Winstanley’s obsession with the Disappearing Room prepared her for this grander quest—unraveling not just one mystery, but the many contradictions that define how magic is understood. Much like the Disappearing Room itself, the line between potion and brew isn’t always clear, but thanks to Winstanley, it’s one we’re still exploring to this day.
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