Friday, May 21 @9:30am

Attendance
☐ ☑
☑ Frank Sellaphix
☑ Sasha Schlagenweit
☑ Deborah Clarencieux
☑ Amara Bathory
☑ Valarie Crowe
☑ Ariadney Gamp
☑ Ambrose Pepper
☑ Philip Kinsey
☑ Linus Hughes
☑ Mairead o Fearghail
☑ Moira McBoid

The year is finally coming to a close, and Hogwarts is beginning its very busy final weeks.  Some classes are still business as usual, others have shifted focus to dedicate the time to end-of-term projects and examination revision.  In Herbology, Professor Strangely arranged with the other Professors to have a few sections of mixed classes.  One such mixed class occurred on Friday the 21st of May.  Professor Strangely had informed the students that this class would be a day of collaboration and review activities for everyone to whet their whistles for examination preparation.

"Oh yes, I understand how a change in routine so disrupts the adolescent mind," cajoled Branwen as she oversaw the diverse set of students streaming in and choosing seats.  There were all sort of student - from each house, each visiting school, and all years from First through seven. "I assure you, the implications of your seating arrangements are not life and death.  Find a stool and embrace the truth that you'll live to sit your final tests."

"Introduce yourselves to those you're not well-acquainted.  Honestly, should you cluster yourselves in familiar knots, I'll consider it an opportunity wasted. Good to see you, Mr. Sellaphix.  Your jumper is on backwards."

---

I plan for this thread to have an exciting little disaster! So fair warning!

Frank looked down at himself with the same frantic energy that had been building as the days got warmer and tests got closer.  It was true.  He put his hand to the front collar and found the tag.

With a huff, he stomped off to a seat in front and took off his robe.  He scrunched his arms into his sleeves so he could slide the sweater around back to where normal human beings wore it. 

Poor lad was far more stressed out than he needed to be for just first year examinations, but this cohort of Ravenclaws seemed to be very skilled at making more out of academic challenges than they really were.  Ravenclaw tower tended to bestow and foster an environment of urgency when it came to matters of school, and Frank had found himself very susceptible to the influence.

He was carrying way too many books, and it looked like he'd also forgotten to comb his hair.

"I forgot my ink pot!" he suddenly lamented.

If it hadn't been for Valerie's friend Micah, who'd had his face pressed into the soil since before either of them had ever stepped foot into a Hogwarts greenhouse, she may never have considered that herbology could one day be a class she genuinely enjoyed. She was perfectly okay with leaving others to tend to the growing things, more interested in the myriad uses and attributes of the various plants and their components than being the one to nurture them. It wasn't any more difficult to memorize the names of growing things than it was to fill her head up with incantations in all manner of languages, and she found her mental catalog of plant facts very useful when it came to potions applications. Thus, she felt more confident about how she'd fare on her herbology exam than she did about a few other subjects... but when given a choice between spending a little more time in the greenhouses and toiling over something more painful, well... there was hardly a question as to where Valerie had turned up that morning!

While she understood that the session was open to all students, it hadn't occurred to her that there would be first years there, and the realization that such was the case started her giggling. Sure, she saw them all of the time in the common room or the great hall, but they seemed so wee sitting up on those greenhouse stools – and, oh goodness, that little one with the books! She could just die! Grinning, a soft chuckle still sounding in her chest, she made her way over.

“I don't mind sharing. Is plain black alright for you?” she asked the boy (Fig's brother?), rustling through her things and pulling the ink pot out without incident. She had barely anything on her compared to the little mussed up Ravenclaw. Though whether or not they'd require ink at all was hit or miss in a class such as this one, she set the pot down between them, should she need to dip in herself. “You've got lots of books,” she observed idly, her legs swinging gently below the table. “Ready for exams?”

The week before exams was really not the best time to start changing schedules, mixing years and otherwise unbalancing the status quo.  When the flow of a schedule was as finely balanced as a grandfather clock, little changes had a rippling effect on the rest of the pattern.  It added more stress than necessary to an already stressful pre-exam marathon revising season.  Especially since the changed class times didn't really mean that much additional free time. 

So, instead of being up at the sixth floor Arithmancy classroom, Sasha was weaving and bumping his way into the Greenhouse with what seemed like the whole of Hogwarts castle.  When did first years get so small? 

Holding his book bag high to avoid the overpacked satchel from meeting an unsuspecting head, Sasha found his way to an open bench and took a seat.  In his haste to get out of the shuffle of many people, he hadn't given any consideration to who was at his table so it wasn't until he was settled that he looked up to greet his neighbors. 

"Allo," he offered.[1]  "Think there's any chance this class will conclude without incident?"

1.	Completely open!  Anyone's welcome to plop in!

"Look, I'll sit on my hands or something, if that makes you feel better?" Ambrose replied, exasperated from nearby to Sasha in response to his query. He waved his hands and then sat on them resolutely.

"Ah, Pepper, he didn't mean you exactly," Ariadne Gamp, his housemate clapped him on the shoulder from behind.

"Oh," Ambrose replied, feeling foolish, but he stayed sat on his hands.

Frank's eyes went wide when and older girl started talking to him.  She wasn't from his house and he had no idea who she was and with the state he was in, it seemed to startle him into silence. 

He slowly reached his hand out to take the little bottle, nodding an affirmative that black was fine.  She said that he had a lot of books.

"Yes."

She asked if he was prepared for exams.

"No."

He was still staring at her, and when he caught himself he shook his head to clear the cobwebs.

"Sorry.  Actually, I don't know. I've heard they're well difficult.  I don't want to fail and have to go home."

Moira scowled at professor Strangely from the spot she picked towards the back in a subtle way not many would be able to pick up on. Introduce herself, sure that was going to happen. Not.

Normally she liked Herbology. She knew quite a bit because her dad had been so proficient at it and they had a garden for quite a few things back at home. Moira still learned something new everyday, and generally looked forward to her time in class. It was possible the exams were simply getting to her, because that day the young Hufflepuff was a bit sullen instead of just aloof.

Ambrose was already taking things personal but she still snorted a bit at Sasha's comment. "No' likely the way me day's been." With that she took to muttering quietly a bit in Gaelic about how everything sucked and needed to go away.

Professor Strangely had said to mingle, and what harm could it do, really, to lend a firstie her inkpot and ask him about his borderline absurd bundle of literature? Watching the younger wizard's eyes grow large, however, Valerie had to wonder if some kind of aneurysm was eminent. She pressed her lips together tightly, willing herself not to laugh – which was not exactly the most natural thing in the world for this particular gryffindor – and instead let the subtle chuckles echo  quietly in her chest, her shoulders just barely rising and falling as she got the giggles out of her system. With the way he was gaping at her like she was the giant squid washed ashore it was a wonder that she could keep herself restrained!

Val was able to quit her giggling with little trouble once she heard what it was the kid was saying. These days she wished that her exams were as simple as they'd been back in first year... but when she was a first year herself, and everything was new, and nothing was natural or easy... well, she'd worried about first year exams, too. They weren't easy exams, they were just... firstie-sized.

“Well, they're end of year exams so, fail or not, you're going home,” she informed him with a shrug, the ghost of amusement still lingering on her lips in the form of a very soft smile, “Now if you failed and they made you stay – that might be a punishment! We'd all be revising like mad!” Her grin, at that, came out of dormancy, the corners of her lips shooting up.

“If it makes you feel any better at all, I've gone here for ages and I never saw anybody kicked out, and I reckon if you were really about to fail, you wouldn't be as concerned as you are.” The exception to that was, of course, the 'day of the exam' panickers, but this boy was far too early to be that dumb.

The Ravenclaw blinked as he watched the fourth year next to him proceeded to sit on his hands. 

Slowly, Sasha’s brow furrowed in confusion and he shook his head.  “You…you don’t need to,” he insisted, nodded towards Gamp with an appreciative grin.  He hadn’t really been expecting to be taken so seriously and he still wasn’t sure if the younger boy was being serious.  “It…you know, most class curricula require the use of hands.” 

Apparently, he’d taken a seat in the fourth year’s section.  He offered Moira a grin but the grin faltered as the Hufflepuff took her seat, mumbling incoherently. 

Were they this strange as fourth years?

Now…idle conversation with strange fourth years until class started.  “Looking forward to exams?"  After a moment, Sasha extended a hand to the Gryffindor, partly out of politeness, partly to get him off his hands.  "Name's Schlagenweit.  Sasha Schlagenweit."

Linus watched as Frank positively freaked out over the exams. Herbology was one of the little lion’s best subjects, and he was rather proud of that fact. To the point of arrogance, to be fair. He was quite prepared for this exam, and didn’t even have any shenanigans planned (for once.)

He sat down next to the young Ravenclaw and grinned as Valerie offered him an extra ink pot. He always liked Valerie. She went along with whatever he did and laughed at his clever jokes. Not all the older students did that. She also didn’t call him a knave, so he appreciated that more than anyone could ever imagine. Li was harboring some ill feelings towards a certain knightly portrait.

Linus leaned forward and sang rather loudly, “Frankie has a girlfrieeeend.” He grinned deviously, "Are you two going to kiss?"

Weaving through the crowded greenhouse, Mairead kept scanning the room for someplace to sit that wasn't surrounded by too many losers.  All these combined year classes was making it difficult to avoid the first years.  And, the older years seemed bent on using it as an opportunity to ogle at girls they normally didn't get to ogle during class.  Like the bloke that was currently blocking her way. 

"Starin' at her longer i'nt gonna make her think yer cuter with that nose," Mairead quipped at the fellow, rolling her eyes as she squeezed past to find a seat. 

Halfway down one of the rows of workbenches, Mairead spotted an opportunity that brightened the prospects of classes by three fold.  She eyed McBoid for a moment, waiting for the girl to catch her eye before offering a smirk and nodding in a greeting that only a fool could misinterpret as friendly.  The girl already appeared to be in an unpleasant mood; unnerving her further was bound to be a breeze.

Mairead found a seat on the next bench over, directly opposite McBoid, and plopped down on the far side so she was facing the Hufflepuff.  She propped her elbows up on the bench top, interlaced her fingers and rested her chin on her fingers.  The rest of the hubbub of the greenhouse quickly slid into the background as Mairead fixed her gaze on the Hufflepuff and stared. 

Herbology was one of those subjects she adored. That day though, Deborah walked into the class deprived of her glasses, having lost them the day before. Some rascal decided it would be fun to steal it and hide it in the middle of somewhere. Her hair didn't have that signature emerald ribbon and was only tied in a half up half down updo. In her hands she was carrying a book appropriate for the subject. Hanging on her shoulder was her leather satchel stuffed with notes and research, whilst her fingers sported a few dried paint stains. She didn't bother cleaning them off, and instead, walked past the other students, seating herself in the seat opposite of Ariadne Gamp. She waved a subtle hello, doing the same for Ambrose, before noticing Sasha and smiling at him in greeting.

"My, my." she sighed. "What shall this subject have for today?"

Moira wasn't really aware of Sasha's faltering grin, her mood wasn't directed at him after all. She had just 'woken up on the wrong side of the bed' she supposed. Most things just rubbed her the wrong way so far.

To make matters worse a second year sat across from her. The fact she was a second year had nothing to do with it. It was that this particular second year had taken it upon herself to make Moira's life as miserable as she could. Moira's scowl almost increased but she kept it in check and withdrew a bit. Any reaction would likely just make Mairead's day. After their other encounters, Moira was as determined to not give one as Mairead was to get one.

To show how unimportant the other girl was she faced the others and finally nodded in return to Sasha's welcoming grin and gave Ambrose one as well. No reason to be rude to them, after all.

Amara walked in the greenhouse absently, caught in concentration over the Báthory Maleficium. The unlocking of its contents had brought about a multitude of wondrous hexes and potions that Amara was simply itching to start testing and experimenting with. Her dalliances with the dark arts as of late brought something of a change within her. She'd been warned she'd only get more confused and unstable, but quite on the contrary, it seemed they had grounded her and brought stability.

It was only when she reached the midst of a swarm of students, quite a lot more than usual, that she remembered this, like Astronomy, would be a throw-everything-in-there stew of a class. She frowned, looking around at the mismatched students and glared at Strangely something foul. She disliked the silly woman profusely. She was rude and about as subtle as troll. She quite liked Herbology, however... Even if she strongly believed she'd much better study it without the woman's instruction.

Taking a seat at random, she closed the family spell book shut with the appropriate enchantment and tucked it back in her bag. Looking around she noticed the Slytherin prefect, and scowled at her overall appearance, giving a particularly nasty look to her paint tainted fingers and blinked at an older Gryffindor boy, looking particularly disheveled and generally unpleasant who seemed to be addressing Gamp in some sort of not-English.

"Ere ar yo" Kensey-Kinsey-something said to the girl and Amara's nose twitched. Was that a safety pin in his ear? How was that even remotely healthy? Her eyes then fell unto Schlagenweit and her lips turned upwards into a rather pleased smile. And yet her eyes sparked ominously. "Hello, Sasha" she said almost sweetly, waving softly and tilting her head sideways to eye him like he was an exceptionally interesting and amusing little creature. At Moira her smile grew into something just a tad more deranged and she wiggled her fingers in greeting to her as well. Sheep. Lovely little lost lambs.

"You there - Hufflepuffs! Break it up now.  Mix and mingle," ordered Branwen to a knot of badgers who seemed to forget she'd asked them to branch out a bit.  They reluctantly obliged.  A pair of Ravenclaws seemed to have a similar aversion to joining up with other groups. 

But odd-bird Flo had come to sit near Schlagenweit, and older Gryffindor Valarie was chumming up with a pair of first years.  Good for them!

"All right, to order, students, to order.  Some semblance at least as I know your wiggling bums and buzzing minds can't be expected to settling into full-on calm.  I'll release you shortly back into full bedlam with your tasks.  I'll appreciate if you do keep it down to a dull roar."

The portly old witch with shock-white locks hustled round the front of the greenhouse to gather a set some chalk to write out some prompts on the black board. 

"There now, fifth years, you'll want to be focusing on fungi.  No better way to review than to teach, so see if you can't bring another year up to date with what you've been excavating.  First years - I'm sorry."

She turned round abruptly.  "I'm quite sorry, what is that noise?"

Branwen might not have said anything about the interruption but she didn't know what the odd sound could be.  It wasn't a scraping chair, or wind through a window.  It wasn't crumpling parchment, or a particularly embarassing flatulence from the front row.

The creaking, scratching, rumbling noise paused for a moment.  Most ears in the room were perked to hear if it would come again.