Friday, March 12 @4pm

Attendance

☑ Sophie Flickwick
☑ Belle hatter

Since the beginning of the year, the students of Herbology have been actively engaged under the singular tutalage of Professor MacDonough.  However, as the ides of March approached, there was a brief intermission in their studies and the result has been a change in instruction.  Their new professor, who was introduced earlier in the week at dinner, is Professor Branwen Strangely.

By this time of the afternoon, the sun was coming into Greenhouse 5 slant-ways in that tone of orange and blue common to twilight.  Inside, the greenhouse was quite toasty and Professor Strangely had left her heavy robes hung on a hook.

"Come in, come in," she prompted the slow-moving teenagers.  They may have been eager and quick-footed among their peers, for their age considered boisterous. But for the demanding Branwen Strangely, all teenagers seemed to be constantly dawdling.  "Lots to do!"

The students would find the work tables were empty of plants and pots and things, and stacked high with books!  Large books, small books, tall ones, old ones, new ones, fat ones, and tattered ones.  There didn't seem to be much order about how they were stacked.  Students who peered into them early would find they all seemed to be filled with hand-drawn illustrations and descriptions of plants both  mundane and hard-to-imagine.  There was a plant in one book that seemed to sprouting a full grown wolf from it's leaves.

Professor Strangely herself had a look about her that was a bit hard to beleive.  She was nearly six feet tall and looked to be about 70 years old.  Her bright white hair was in contrast to her brown skin.  Today it was pulled up into a thick white bundle. 

"Have a seat - there are stools there.  Bit of pep in your step.  Pretend you like learning, c'mon, let's go."

Her tone wasn't so hard as to make anything think she was grouchy, but she certainly seemed a little impatient.

Sophie was, for the most part, putting on a brave face lately. It had been a year since the werewolf attack on the ministry, it seemed like everyone else had moved on and put it out of their minds. She wondered what that might be like, to only know about an event in the farthest reaches of the back of your mind. She felt the impacts of that horrible night every single day, but no one wanted to be around sad people so she smiled and went about her business. Life was in a constant state of flux and one just had to learn to roll with the punches - whether that meant losing your mother or breaking up with your boyfriend.

She did miss Figaro, but not so much the dating him part of it. She missed having her friend, the dumb boy who made her laugh with the way he'd mug behind a Professor's back. She worried too, he was blowing off school work more than usual lately and it was annoying that she noticed. It wasn't her job to notice things anymore - and with the way he was avoiding her, it was clear he didn't want her noticing them either. Such was the life of a sixteen year old girl, it was laughably typical actually, which might have been nice if it wasn't so irritating.

Much like her life, the Staff of Hogwarts was ever still ever changing. At least Professor Strangely seemed like a sound edition. The Wise Old Crone-ness of her appearance meant she make have it in her to stick out the Castle's revolving door. Sophie could almost picture her wanting to swat at their heels with broom to make the lot of teenagers move more quickly. Glancing down at the worn book in front of her, Sophie burrowed a little into her robes and heavy sweater, trying to warm her chilled fingers. It might have been March and subsequently closer to spring but apparently no one had informed the slight bone chilling drizzle that had hung around the grounds for two days. What she wouldn't give for a hot cuppa and thicker socks!

I think we'll have it that Herbology class had been cancelled this week as the sudden shift in staffing was worked out.  Students would have been notified at meals or with a note in their commonroom.  Notes to resume class would also have been posted.  If students arrive late (or not at all) we can attribute it to that little hiccup.

A young witch with an uncommon aire of solemnity came in after the first huddle of students.  Her moroseness wasn't plain on her, but Branwen sensed it.  She'd seen that before.  Lived that as a young woman herself.  She watched out of the corner of her eye - careful not to stare - as Sophie Flickwick huddled into her sweater like a bud tucking itself back into the soil for warmth.

As the students came in and got settled, Branwen walked between the tables and made a show of shuffling books around.

 "I'm to be your Professor - Professor Branwen Strangely - for the foreseeable future.  Although if you have the Sight do let me know if I'll need to seek employment following the summer holiday.  Here you go, lass, I think this one suits you."  Strangely interrupted herself to swap out one book for another, straight out of the hands of a student.  She did the same with another boy, suggesting a new tome for him to peruse before the class properly began.

"Tell me what you think of this one, son.  Something tells me you'll like it."

She didn't make an exception for Miss Flickwick who hadn't any book in her hand at all.  She slid a volumen from the stack and inched in front of her.  "Peek at this one.  All about the discovery of the moon's affect on Forget-Me-Nots."

And she passed by her to head back to the front.  In a larger voice, she proclaimed, "Go on, feel at ease to flip through.  Find a few that strike you.  Dog-ear the pages of your favorite illustrations while you wait.  No harm in that - books are meant to be read."

Belle's head snapped up when her own book was snatched from her hands, and another placed in them. A quick glance to her right at Sophie told her that this had happened to everyone else as well. She tentatively opened the book that had been put in her grip, flipping through it.

Belle was an avid reader and she was known with it. Every year she brought a separate truck just for all her favorite novels. She wished she had one on her right now, as interesting as the Herbology book probably was. The Hufflepuff wasn't a huge fan of informational books. She preferred her stories and fairy tales. Belle would take sword fights and dramatic romances over schoolbooks any day.

Her eyes slid toward Sophie again for a moment, then she ducked her head to look at the book. She flipped through the pages and sighed, skimming through a passage or two before her attention just wandered to the pictures, taking in the details.

Belle had never spoken to Sophie before. And now that she and Figaro had broken up, Belle wasn't sure she should try talking to her at all. She didn't know her except for her name, and the other girl's inner thoughts were a mystery to her. What if she was angry at Figaro? What if she was angry at her? Belle didn't know the details of Figaro and Sophie's breakup, except that it was mutual. But what if Sophie felt differently, would she be get upset with Belle?

The Hufflepuff wasn't sure she wanted to find out. She'd gone almost six years without making an enemies, and she didn't want to start now.

As the minutes ticked by and no more than a few more students trickled in, Branwen regarded the half-dozen students in attendance with a raised eyebrow.  Well.  This was a fantastic first day.  Was there something she was missing? She wasn't a Hogwarts insider - indeed she hadn't been here since the first Remembering Day back in 1999.  But in that moment of silent wonder she decided it didn't matter in this moment, and the mystery could vex her some other time this afternoon. 

Because now, she had six students who were here and ready to go.  And she was going to give them an hour worth spending.

She leaned on a tall stool at the head of the table and clasped her hands together.  "These books are from both my personal collection and graciously loaned by that odd librarian of yours Mister Morgan.  I'm to understand he heads Slythern? That's a bit strange isn't it?  Well, either way, he was kind enough to pull his best herbiaries and research journals.  Hatter, you've got the Sprout one there - very fine.[1]  And I think I slipped Flickwick the one concerning moonlight growing. If you rifled through a bit more, you'll also find some speculative work by muggles.  Fascinating stuff - muggles imagining the magical inner workings of plants.  Surprising how they often got it right.  A bit hilarious when they get it wrong."

"Right so have a look and I've got a few questions for you as you're looking through.  Is there anything you notice about the illustrations and descriptions? If you were going to gather your own notes on magical plants both found or cultivated what would you want to take note of?"

Here are a bunch of such pages that your character might find in the books.
LINK | LINK | LINK | LINK | LINK | LINK | LINK

1.	A Witch's Diary of Scottish Plants compiled by Pomona Sprout; 1962

"Um...what they looked like? Where they are found?"

Branwen nodded.  "That's a start, that's a start.  Appearance of the plant is quite obvious, but can you go deeper than that? It's a living creature - what else might need to be accounted for in regards to it's appearance?  I'm reminded of the great Sphinx's riddle to Oedipus.  What goes first on four legs, then on two, and finally upon three?"

There was a titter of laughter and she could tell some of the students had heard that one, but no one ventured a guess as to what she had asked them about the appearence of plants.  Until...

"Oh! Like plants grow.  Reckon they look different depending what stage they're at.  Like saplings or might be blooming or not."

"Clever lad.  Right on the galleon."  She stepped forward and pulled out a scroll from the pile and unfurled it.  "See here? This author has specialized his work into illustrating the different stages and disguises of Amazon herbs, including the insects and amphibians who mimic them.  A very handy tome if you enjoy a functioning digestive system and lungs that breath."

Another titter of quiet laughter.  "What else - what would be necessary to document about a new plant you'd discovered? What would a herbologist or potioneer need to know to utilized your new discovery?"

The class continued in this fashion.  Branwen Strangely continued to inquire of them the width and breadth of the work that herbologists and illustrators and archivists did, about how these many useful and comprehensive and specialized tomes came to be.

These older, advanced students came back with a wide variety of responses, using the many books in front of them as reference. 

"Where they can be found."

"Right, like 'under stones' or even, you know, erm, in what part of the world."

"Also, what they're used for.  What potions and that."

Time was beginning to flee quickly, as time does especially at the end of class, and so Professor Strangely began to wrap things up.

"You know, I must say, you are all very lucky to live in this age of information where the centuries long culmination of knowledge is easily laid out before you.  Herbologists before you had to venture into the breezy outdoors, yes! They did as hard that is to believe! Libraries were few, far between, and not always as well stocked as what Mr. Landis has curated for your constant use."

Far away, a bell rang in a tower signalling the hour.  As they left, she thanked them for their work, and added.

"Do give Mr. Morgan a hug for us when you see him next.  He's been very helpful."


fin