0758 hours, edge of the Forbidden Forest

It was a cold and wet September's morning. Bad weather to be studying bees but the ideal climate for their lesson's true object: Glumbumbles. Softly falling rain produced a calming effect, overlaid by a loud and unmistakeable buzzing in this part of the grounds. Professor Onuris had lead his group of third and fourth years down a slopping hill to the very edge of the Forest.

Here, two makeshift gazebos had been put together. Rickety structures with latticework roofs already overgrown with fine vines. One of the gazebos was clearly meant for their assembly - there were long benches and green canvas jumpsuits laying about.

"Come, come!" Sylvain called over the pupils, coming in out of the rain. He had already taken attendance[1] and was doing a quick head count while everyone settled down.

Because he had chosen to group the two years together, the older students were at lessons earlier than they would normally have been on a Wednesday. It showed on some of their faces.

"Merci." Professor Onuris glanced at the other gazebo, which was closer to the towering trees. There were high wooden boxes[2] arranged on its low platform: six regular bee hives and a single Glumbumble hive, signified by the darker coloured insects buzzing around it. "Fourth years. Suits on, please."

He gestured at the jumpsuits. Sylvain didn't need one himself but he didn't explain why.

"As discussed last week, today we collect honey from our apiary. The Glumbumble hive, it is not producing treacle yet. That will be in the spring so we must make do with the product they have contaminated in the honeybee hives." The Frenchman eyed some of the younger students, smiling. "You will test the honey first, yes? Our brave souls."

And then, addressing the class altogether: "Questions before we visit the hives?"

1.	Please assume your character is already present - but if you'd like to write a late entrance, feel free! Points may be deducted.
2.	Langstroth Hive

Eirene hurried over the grounds with her book bag clutched to her, unwilling to subject her supplies to the rain. She casted a drying charm on herself and a few friends as the rest of the students clomped their way through the mud.

How disagreeable a morning! She was fully awake, eyes bright, lit with her usual zeal for academics as she glanced at the forest cradling the gazebos. If she had any sense of these things, a sense of foreboding would have made her shiver. As it was, the buzzing sound blocked out her common sense.

"Merci."

What a beautiful word! She gazed at the French man, wishing they could spend more time at their desks, listening to his honeyed voice discuss honey. He would not hear this fourth year complain about the early hour, oh no. She would be mature! Today. This morning, at least.

Her enthusiasm dimmed slightly at the sight of the bulky, ugly suits.

Eirene took an age to put on the suit over her uniform. She smoothed the fabric over her hips and tugged on the waist of the suit, frowning for a moment at the top of her chest.

"We look like snot-flavored Bertie Botts," she whispered to the closest female classmate, shaking her head. The girl looked more like a beanstalk, but Eirene felt the need to include her in her misery.

For once, she did not have questions. She mentally ran through the methods they'd discussed last week, prepared to prove that she could succeed in the field as well as in a classroom.

It was far too bloody early but that was nicely tempered by the fact that they were congregating outside.  In the rain!  Who didn't love playing in the rain?  It could muddy and sloshy and all manner of squelshy if one was cutting up some mischief or its sound-dampening quality could be unfathomably peaceful.  There was nothing better then sitting under a tarp or wooden roof, listening to raindrops. 

Except for being out in that rain and making a beautiful, royal mess. 

So, Mairead was making a concerted effort to step in every puddle and water-filled divot and grinning contently as the displaced water pooled over the top of her shoes.  The ends of her curly hair had already started to stick to her temple and she knew she would be grateful for having several free periods before their Defense lesson before lunch.  Her second-hand robes had been well-worn when she'd first bought them a couple summers back and she'd long sense outgrown them; they didn't offer too much in the way of insulation but that hadn't bothered her, yet. 

"Like I remember what we covered last week," Mairead muttered under her breath as she wriggled into one of the bulky suits. 

Unlike her classmate, Mairead did have a question.  Without bothering with the pointless formalities of raising one's hand, or taking the time to look beyond the jumpsuit she'd grabbed to make sure it wasn't there, Mairead blurted towards the professor: "don't we need those funny hats?  The ones with the holey curtains around an' such."  She gestured around her head.  "We wouldn' want the Ant Palace t' get stung in the eye and go blind."  Mairead gestured over her shoulder with her thumb, indicating the general direction where Eirene  was comparing herself to sweets.

She was only two weeks into her third year, and already Gwenna had no idea how she'd made it through two long years without the joys of Care of Magical Creatures, and Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies.  Granted, the Muggle Studies professor was a little weepy, but her electives this year were so much more exciting than most of the classes she'd had to suffer through before. 

She'd trailed behind the other students on the way out to the gazebos, alternating feet as she hopped in puddles and doing her best to stay close to Mairead in hopes that the cool fourth year Gryffindor would notice her.

Glumbumbles were perhaps not the most charismatic species to begin her exploration of magical creatures with, but Gwenna had been fascinated by the lecture the week before.  Magical bees!  If she were lucky, maybe she'd be able to sneak some of the treacle home with her so that she could slip it into her brother's tea during the holidays. 

As they gathered under the first gazebo, Professor Onuris began to speak, laying out their general task for the day before specifically addressing the third years.

"You will test the honey first, yes? Our brave souls."

Gwenna's eyes lit up.  "Ace!" she whispered enthusiastically.

When Professor Onuris asked if there were any questions, Gwenna's hand immediately shot up.  She looked only slightly perturbed when Mairead (clearly too cool to raise her hand) called out a question.

"Can we help get the honey out, too?" she asked eagerly, tagging on to the end of the older girl's words.  "Along with tasting it?"

Sylvain was a little relieved that there were questions. He didn't like it when people didn't ask questions. It usually meant that they were going to run into problems later on because they hadn't thought to think of it before. He glanced at the Gryffindor girl who was greatly enjoying this rainy weather and who had probably seen beekeepers before, based on her query.

"Non, we use a charm. That is, I will cast a charm on each of you yes?" Sylvain drew his wand and held it up. "Bees and Glumbumbles are sensitive to magic. They must grow accustomed, as they are to mine. Over the weeks, you will all test your own casting of this charm to acclimatise them to your respective ambience."

This was his way of warning them that there would be many future visits to the Apiary. He began motioning the students towards himself, tapping each on the head as they passed.

"Protego bestiola!" The charm scattered a sprinkling of golden yellow sparks over each crown before fading.

Sylvain considered the third year's question. "Oui, you can help, if you can find a fourth year to trade places. And they will have their turn with the third years next lesson," he paused before adding to the group, "You do not need to raise your hands to ask questions. Address me and ask. Sometimes your hands, they will be busy."

At least that would be the case for all their practical lessons. Sylvain finished casting the protection charms on all those who were going to join him in the gazebo, and then turned the wand on to himself. The sparks fell over the length of his body.

"Now. You will follow me. Do not disturb the Glumbumbles. Stand in a circle around hive number one. You might feel... um, melancholy in their presence." He ventured out into the rain, glancing once behind the make sure they were coming, and quickly crossed into the next shelter. The buzzing was much louder here and honeybees crowd the air, unable to leave the gazebo because of the rain. Sylvain approached one of the hives. #1 was starkly painted on it, with the others subsequently numbered.

He waited until they were gathered around him. "Bien. One volunteer, please, to demonstrate?" A gesture was made towards the glass jars sitting on the top of the hive, next to a metal spatula. Unlike muggle keepers, wixes used their wands in place of other tools.

Frank had originally signed up for Muggle Studies, but got permission from his Head of House to request a transfer to Care of Magical Creatures. Eirene had ... convinced ... him on the Hogwarts Express. He'd just, felt like, he should try it. But he was beginning to regret it.

He stood in the gazebo, his arms crossed high and tight over his chest, about as tense and twitchy as he could be. A breeze rustled his blonde hair, which was getting long, and it brushed his ear. He swatted at it immediately and hissed through his teeth.

"I don't like bees...." he mumbled. 

"Over the weeks...?" Frank echoed to himself woefully. He doubted Professor Aldridge would let him switch back now after a week had already passed...

Frank dutifully followed Professor Sylvain and the rest of the class out into the rain but the sound and sight of what looked like thousands of bees stopped him. He was stuck. He uncrossed his arms for the half second he needed to slap frantically at his neck a couple of times - a trickle of rain had tickled him under the collar. 

He was mumbling a stream of encouraging self-talk to get his arse into the gazebo, but he just couldn't unfreeze.

As golden sparks fluttered from the Professor's wand, Eirene smiled, imagining a halo hovering over her head. How regal she must look! How very French! How very unlike an Ant Palace, or whatever terrible nickname Mairead had come up with!

For a moment, she forgot about the jumpsuit she was forced to wear.

At hive 1, she joined the circle and craned her neck to peer at the Glumbumbles, and though she felt a very slight dampening of her mood, she tried her best to ignore it. If she could endure the rain, she could endure a bit of glumness.

Eirene was about to volunteer, when she looked behind her and noticed Frank hesitating at the entrance of the gazebo.

She glanced back at the professor, worried that the professor would notice the Ravenclaw lagging behind and deduct points.

She also felt a bit responsible for Frank. On the train, she'd convinced him to switch classes, and had been very flattered he'd taken her advice. He looked more ill at ease in this mucky weather than she did!

Slipping out of the circle of students, Eirene paused at the doorway, staring at the boy as he muttered under his breath.

"What's wrong? You can't be jealous of the jumpsuits," Eirene huffed, gesturing at her bulky suit.

"Come on in out of the rain."

"Then why the suits?" Mairead asked when it was her turn to have the protective charm cast on her head.  If they didn't need the screen porch hats why did they need to be wearing tents?  Not that Mairead minded; they were bulky but not terribly uncomfortable.  She tugged at a stiff shoulder seam before joining the cluster of students around the first hive. 

The professor asked for a volunteer, an event that started the typical progression of events: Eirene would raise her hand (despite being told they didn't need to do so), the professor would acknowledge her (again, despite the unnecessary step), Eirene would do a textbook-perfect job, Ravenclaw would get points and they could all go eat lunch.  Mairead sighed and looked towards Eirene to offer a roll of her eyes, but ... Eirene was walking away from the circle. 

Towards a boy Mairead only recognized by sight who stood talking to himself a short distance away from the cluster.  Mairead glanced towards Gwenna and reached an elbow out to nudge her slightly.  "He's in yer year, eh?"  Mairead asked.  "What's his deal?" 

Then, glancing between the professor and Eirene, she made to give Gwenna another nudge.  "Ye should volunteer."

Gwenna had been ecstatic that she'd been given the okay to trade places.  She quickly found a fourth year student who was less than enthusiastic about participating in the first round of their Glumbumble excursion, and convinced them to trade assignments.

As she'd been delayed in tugging on her suit, she'd been one of the last to get her head tapped.  Gwenna hurried behind the group to the second gazebo, trailing a step behind the other students but clearly not wanting to be left out of the excitement.  When Mairead nudged her, she blinked.

"What?" she asked, looking back to see what the commotion was about.  Seeing who it was, she shrugged.  "Oh, that's Sellaphix.  He's --"  Strange was really not quite the right word to describe Frank, whom she didn't really mind, even if he did sometimes spend too long thinking of a different answer or try to find exceptions to things that were common sense.  "Unique," she finally settled on.

At Mairead's second nudge, she nodded eagerly.  "I'll do it!" she called, stepping forward towards hive number one.   But then, unsure but not wanting to seem uncertain, she paused, glancing back at Professor Onuris as if to check with him.  "Um.  Just like we talked about in class, right?"

            "Then why the suits?"

"You wear suits because you are not skilled enough to master this charm yourselves." Sylvain answered the young Gryffindor once almost everyone was safely in the second gazebo. "You will learn it in our next lesson, but only the heads, and it will take much practice before you cast it with enough subtlety not to repel the insects altogether."

They didn't, after all, want to disturb the delicate balance of the hives. The charm was not an easy one and most beginners could only use it clumsily. Nobody volunteered at first.

Not surprising: even with charms, many might be afraid to come so close to bees. In fact, Sylvain noticed, one of the third years was still out in the rain. "Eh?" he squinted at Sellaphix and then at the girl urging him in. "Pull him in, oui?" Clearly the boy had frozen up.

He had seen similar reactions in trainees who saw their first dragons in-person. Sylvain turned back to Gwenna, who had volunteered, and gestured for her to draw her wand. "I will loosen the hive and you will cast a levitating charm, carefully." As he spoke, he picked up the metal spatula and slotted it in the gap between the shelves at the top of the hive.

The bees buzzed louder, crowding around the two of them. Displeased.

"Now. You levitate. I will collect honey, and then you must return the honeycomb wall to the bees." Sylvain smiled and reclaimed his wand, taking a glass jar with his free hand. He glanced at the rest of the students, "After, you will do the same in pairs. Now, Miss Trevelyan," a broader smile at the young witch. "S'il vous plaît. Carefully."

"It's bees," he whispered to Eirene with a little shiver. "I don't like bees."

He was getting more and more embarrassed as his absence from the gazebo was more and more notable. The seconds passed so slowly but he just couldn't see a way he could go in. They were everywhere and -

Oh Merlin, the Professor had seen him and called him in. It wasn't some severe admonishment, and he hadn't humiliated him, but it still felt socially and academically catastrophic! And all he'd wanted was to impress Professor Onuris, but now he looked like a drip.

"Cheering Charm," he whispered to Eirene. "Cast a Cheering Charm on me. Quick."

They'd all learned them last year because of Dementors. Maybe it would help dissolve his fear.

Oh no, oh no, she was missing part of class! The Gryffindors were stepping up and taking her place! She was missing the professor's s'il vous plaît!

All because Frank didn't like bees.

Eirene gestured at Frank with both arms, looking as if she'd just escaped from synchronized swimming. The professor had said come on in, so come on in!

"A cheering charm? Now?" She huffed. "If that's what it takes!"

It took her several precious moments to find her wand in her jumpsuit pocket, but once she did, Eirene waved her wand with a strong swish, pleased as little sparks of joy fluttered around Frank's head.

She blinked. Normally they didn't flutter. They settled calmly, if done right.

"Better?" Eirene smiled, and put the slightest pressure on his back, hoping to steer him into the gazebo.

A wave of warm tingly magic bits shivvered over Frank like a fuzzy fried egg cracked over his head. His eyes widened and his face sort broke into a lop-sided grin without him even trying. He looked at Eirene with a sort of sudden mania.

"Yes!" he said too loudly. "Good! Thanks, Eirene!"

The sensation was pretty dominant and made the fear of the bees seem less important. He still felt uneasy about it, but something about it all seemed more optimistic. He hugged his arms to himself in self protection, but trotted right up the steps and nudged his way into the knot of students.

"Hey, sorry!" he said, again, a little too loudly and without context. He half-wondered when the Cheering Charm would wear off.

Already, this was shaping up to be the Best Class Ever.  Not only had Gwenna been allowed to gather honey with the fourth years, but now she was getting to help Professor Onuris demonstrate.  She listened attentively to the professor's instructions.  Once the hive was loosened, cast a levitating charm.  She nodded earnestly and stepped closer to the hive, holding her wand at the ready.

The bees, who had been more of a theoretical presence a few moments before, had started to rise around them in a swarm, unhappy that she was threatening their space.  It was a little nerve-wracking to have them get so close, but as Professor Onuris had said, none of them seemed able to touch her. Gwenna squinted at them as they buzzed around her head, trying to pick out a Glumbumble from the yellow and black mass of bees. 

Here, standing so close to the hive, she almost felt sorry for them.  Poor little bees, who had worked so hard to make their honey only to have it all taken away.

"S'il vous plaît," said Professor Onuris, and Gwenna bit her tongue, focusing on the role she was supposed to play.

"Wingardium leviosa!" she said, with a swish and flick of her wand.

The lid of the beehive wobbled for a moment, and then one of the frames floated straight up, hovering above the top of the hive.  Gwenna kept her wand pointed at it, concentrating on the spell to keep it floating in place.  The bees were still flying around her, occasionally making darting passes towards her face, but having something to focus on made ignoring them a little easier.

"Hey, sorry!" someone called loudly behind her. 

Startled out of her concentration, Gwenna jerked back, making the frame wobble in the air.  Scowling, she re-focused on her spell, trying to get the frame to hover steadily in place again, and then shot an angry look over her shoulder in the direction of whoever had caused the interruption.

            "Hey, sorry!"

And poor mademoiselle Trevelyan was doing so well until that disturbance! Even Sylvain glanced away from the hive, noting that it was the reluctant Ravenclaw who was causing the trouble. He quickly turned back to their demonstration and began to use the spatula to gently scrape the honeycomb frame in a downwards motion  - thick, luscious sheets of golden honey trickled into the jar in his other hand. There was something not quite natural in its sheen.

An almost silver blue quality, which took away from the golden colour. The bees gathered closer, not far above their two heads, loudly buzzing.

"Bien. Merveilleux, Miss Trevelyan. You can return it to its rightful place now." Sylvain spoke over the sound and quickly sealed what had been collected. "5 points for Gryffindor," he smiled reassuringly before gesturing for her to back away from the hive once she was done.

Not wanting to further aggravate the kingdom, Sylvain stepped back as well and allowed for the cloud of bees to possessively swarm around their Langstroth hive.

"Come, come," he indicated that they begin to follow his example by pairing off and collecting their own jars of tainted honey. "Mister Sellaphix? A word?" Sylvain placed a hand on the young boy's shoulder. "And you also Miss Trevelyan..." he trailed off and crossed the space into the other gazebo, which was now empty.

Hopefully nothing disastrous would happen while they held a short conference.