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A yawn exploded into the earthy breeze of fresh cut grass and dandelion weeds as he strolled from the castle grounds to the greenhouse while the yellowing grass and turning leaves crunched beneath each step. The grizzly professor stood at the forefront of the greenhouse beside an abyssinian shrivelfig, and at least half a dozen more trees were scattered across the room in place of desks and chairs. Tristan shuffled beside one of the taller potted plants, he leaned over with hunched shoulders as he dropped his satchel at his feet and dug for a pair of dragonhide gloves. As the professor began his lecture, the young Slytherin began to examine his shrivelfig to take stock of both healthy and barren limbs before ever rising a pair of shears to it. Once Professor Hill's demonstration had concluded. Tristan promptly began to sift through leaves and branches, until finally relocating those shriveled, deformed branches and snipped them away.

Take all of your wasted honor
Every little past frustration
Take all of your so-called problems,
Better put 'em in quotations


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𝒮𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒴𝑒𝒶𝓇 || ℋ𝓊𝒻𝒻𝓁𝑒𝓅𝓊𝒻𝒻 || 𝐵𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇

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Zeph sighed as he entered the classroom and realized that yes, Porfessor Hill was still there. The guy gave off creepy vibes like no one he had ever met before, well, save for his cousin. In place of all of the chairs and tables, he noticed instead that they were working on trees. He found his way over to one of them and dropped his bag next to the tree, listening to the professor before he pulled out his gloves and watched the demonstration that the man was giving. When he was finished, he took up a pair of shears and looked over the tree. It didn't look like there were a lot of branches that needed pruning, so he just started working on the withered branches he could see. He carefully snipped off a few, feeling more confident about this assignment. This was easy, at least finding dead things and taking them off. He wondered if the professor even realized that this was a pretty easy assignment. If not, well, not much he could do but follow instruction.



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Location: Herbology
Thinking: Wow, this isn't that hard.
OOC:
Snow





Even if your hands are shaking
And your faith is broken
Even as the eyes are closing
Do it with a heart wide open

Alice came to the greenhouses to find, yes, Professor Hill, the scariest professor Alice could think of was still there. He reminded of some scary person from some scary story or something. She always hoped it was just a front but something about him felt like that wasn't the case. She took her position by a tree, watching the demonstration and listening careful. It didn't seem too hard. Was there a catch? No, Alice decided, she was just going to be confident and patient. So, she began carefully parting the leaves to find the shriveled ones she gently snipped off. The action was soothing, actually, she decided with a small smile. She was helping the plant and she was sure she was doing it right.

Gryffindor │ Second Year │ Muggleborn

Levi walked into the greenhouses, his materials under his arm. He decided that he needed to start actually taking importance in his subjects, even if he didn't particularly care for them. Which was the case for Herbology. It wasn't just the professor--he never had much of a green thumb, even if he did appreciate the beauty of certain plants and flowers. He sat in front of a lone tree, one that Professor Hill referred to as an Abysinnian shrivelfig or something like that. He had never even heard of Abyssinia before.

Deciding not to distract himself by pairing up with a friend, he got to shearing off what seemed to be dead stalks just as instructed. Not so hard.

show spoilerhide spoiler
mc2











【 LOCATION 】 greenhouses x 【 MOOD 】 bored x 【 COMPANY 】 second years, alice x 【 CLOTHING 】 uniform


Sybil nodded slightly, realising that she hadn't actually introduced herself... "And you're Alice...?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow. She didn't really try to give the other girl a smile in return, as Sybil wasn't the best at actually having other facial expressions...she felt bad about that, maybe the girl would think Sybil was unkind or just a straight-up a*****e for not doing so, but really, her facial expressions were limited... She huffed out a laugh at Alice's response. "I do believe that live flowers and plants are better than cut ones are better to just about anyone." She commented, finding another dead stalk and cutting it. "Unless you're one of those with a 'black thumb', of course..." She shurgged. Sybil, herself, had never really had that problem. As for how Sybil felt about Herbology... "Well, my mum has greenhouses and gardens full of magical plants and I usually help out a lot with it...suffice it to say, I rather like herbology. Calming, I think..." She said, shrugging a bit. Sybil realised what all she'd said and pursed her lips. She probably hadn't had to mention her mother's gardens, did she?

Your eyes are wide shut but you know...
Buried alive by the lies in your soul...
Your stride is a blind man's stroll;
Well, for whom does the next bell toll?
So if you want to push, I'm gonna shove.
If you want to spar, we can do it without gloves.
If you're gonna run at me, you'd better do it hard;
I fear no fall, no brawl, no scars.

I'm one shade short of alarm;
I'm so far past wrath that I'm calm.
Now you see, a wise man learns from your mistakes,
And lets the blunders of his fellows serve to fill his plate.
So you'd best be on your way before the tidal wave breaks;
You don't want to come to meet the reaper that awaits.
You don't want to say any more than a mime; you can't afford-
And you don't want to let this turn into lines of mine and yours.

Sprucing the limbs and separating the individual leaves to soak up as much sunshine as possible, Tristan decided his half of the shrivelfig tree was decidedly healthy, nothing he could visibly see that needed pruning. Still, instead of garnering Professor Hill's attention, he continued his aimless shuffle through the branches preferring not to draw any unwanted attention to himself. He'd already made the conscious decision to avoid the grown wolf like a plague; Tristan wasn't fond of the natural subservient attitude that he seemed to exude in this class. And even though he knew he was doing it, he couldn't help it either, which only pissed him off all the more. Especially since, once a month, Tristan's flinging and dragging himself to class like some deranged half transfigured fish whose gills just turned to lungs, but still had fins instead of feet. Not Hill though, no, he still manages to look like the same, old, angry, ornery wanker that he's always been. And really? ******** off with that s**t. It's not fair. ”It is.” Tristan agreed with a soft hum. ”Thin too, which means better focus and higher accuracy, usually, anyway...” He snorted at her next statement, fully caught off guard and left reeling in silence. ”War history huh?” That amused him more than he could ever explain. ”I dunno, I kinda like being coddled,” he admitted offhandedly, partially because it was true but mostly just to disagree. ”What can I say? I'm a sucker for professors who let me eat and sleep in class.” Growing bored of poking around the plant, he dropped his arms at his side and whistled an upbeat tune, until Sera had decided a “thank you” was in order, which Tristan responded with a “the ********?” tilt of his head. ”You don't have to thank me... I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true. Truth shouldn't need a thank you.” He blinked, beetled his brows in thought and quickly added, ”Wands are fickle. The disadvantage wouldn't be because of that.” He blurted out, then tried to cover it up with a shrug and moved back in on the plant, pretending to focus his attention on the branches, but really, he was trying to gauge her reaction without being too obvious.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxLionel Santiago Lira
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxHufflepuffxSecond Year