2:30pm

Dazmond was seeing off the last lingering students from her seventh year workshop as the fifth year kids started showing up.  Dazmond for some reason or other had many more connections to this class than the last, she realized while glancing over Graham's roster.  Not only was Beatrix on that list, but the now nearly infamous mister Muggle-loving Shlagenweit, Landis' little brother, and the son of her husband's former boss were all on that list as well.  In one of the lesser used greenhouses, before a bare plot, she considered the scroll of parchment, noting the one name she wouldn't mind to be on the bad end of one of her floating specimens. 

The far end of the large greenhouse was shaded, and was where the focus of the class would be this afternoon.  There was a large plot of fresh dragon dung compost awaiting planting, and the whole area had been cleared to allow for plenty of space.  Long tables fitted with chairs sat at a safe distance from the planting bed, but all were facing in its direction.  Along the back wall were a number of perfectly still, magically suspended plants with a wild look about them.  The specimens hung in the air, their long roots exposed and their dark foliage parted to expose beautiful and alluring purple trumpet flowers.  They were, at the moment, closed -- and the plants themselves were eerily calm.

Along the side-walls were other long tables, upon which sat various potted plants set a good distance apart from each other.  And these were anything but motionless.  Some serenely 'sniffed' the air, curiously bobbing their buds around to figure out what was going to happen.  Others waved their tentacles around menacingly, attempting to drive off the incoming students. 

Fifth year was the time when Herbology students were truly tested.  Dangerous plants had to be truly understood and handled well -- and at the end of the year when students sat their OWLs, they would either continue on in the plant world, or go on to other avenues.  It was a time of trial, the last year of required association with the greenhouses, and the time when students were deciding what subjects they'd continue with.  Dazmond had designed today's workshop with all of this in mind, and what she was bringing to them today would, no doubt, prove a challenge. 

She rolled up the roster where she stood in the clearing before the planting bed, and turned her attention to the door, where her next group of students were wandering in.

Now that the weather had turned wet, gelid and soggy, Figaro had started wearing is big dragon-leather gardening gloves down to the greenhouses.  They were always slightly warm and always dry.  That was good dragon-hide for ya.  In fact, they had been his dads; R. Sellaphix was still inked in blurry on the inside of the cuff.

Professor Bombay had just Tuesday announced that they'd have a guest teacher today, and Figaro had imagined a dirty old wizard with moss instead of a mustache.  But who he saw instead made him check twice.

She was a witch, young and petitte.  Her hair was ink black with red streaks.  Figaro knew who she was: Dazmond wiedman.  Nate's wife. If they'd ever met before, Figaro didn't remember, but he knew who she was.  His dad had always told him that Nate's wife, in addition to nearly everyone else in Knockturn Ally, was to be avoided. He wasn't afraid of her, however.  She'd always seemed very chaotic and mysterious. 

Perhaps on any other day there'd have been no question: he'd have without a wince or twitch trotted right up to have a forbidden conversation.  However, Figaro's dad might not come home for many years.  And that had been Nate's fault.  So at the moment: 2:30 on a Thursday: Figaro wasn't exactly sure how to react.

He chattered with his mates on the way in, and after choosing a seat broke off from them and went to stand next to Madam Wiedman.  He was just as tall as she was.

"I'll just be out with it," he said, with no real introduction. "I got no row to have with you.  Crap exploded, people got arrested, and we both're waiting on people to get home from jail. Figure you and me could either make today super awkward - and I'm ace at that,"  - he paused to emphasize he wasn't fooling about that threat - "or you can tell me that you haven't got a fight for me either.  And then we can go about this how it's usually done in here."

(Which was, point of note, for Figaro to ignore instructions from Professor Bombay, need to be told thrice.  For Figaro to make a mess, talk to much, but in the end squeak by with an acceptable result.  And dirt on his neck for the rest of the day.)

He raised his eyebrows at her and waited for her response with arms crossed.

After leaving Professor Ramsey's office the previous Sunday, Sasha had resolved to try even harder to keep on the straight and narrow.  He couldn't afford any more screw ups - he couldn't risk even another small toe out of line.  Between the Daily Prophet's article, the detentions for sneaking out on the last full moon and the accusation of cheating, Sasha knew he simply couldn't afford one more mistake.  And, especially considering there were those out there who seemed to be trying to get him in trouble when he wasn't even doing anything, keeping his nose clean was more important than ever.

As a result, Sasha had found himself even more reclusive and distant from most of his classmates than before.  For the most part, he kept to himself.  His nose was always buried behind a textbook or hovering over an essay at meals (the one upside to the article was Sasha no longer needed to hide his muggle extra-curricular subjects).  During classes, he kept even more to himself and remained focused on his work.  After his last class, Sasha usually found himself at quidditch practice, in the paddock behind the nurse's cabin or in the library behind a stack of books.  He had yet to have another Muggle Appreciation Club meeting though the thought had occurred to him on several occasions.  For the most part, he kept largely to himself in the hopes the social wall surrounding him would keep him safe.

There were a few exceptions - Ava, primarily.  Somehow, in the days following the article and the accusation of cheating, when Sasha found himself questioning the motives of every student he passed in the hall - wondering if they had been the one that had framed him for cheating, it had been Ava Grosvenor that had stood out as trustworthy and safe.  Even with her unpredictable mood swings, Sasha found himself increasingly in her company.  A few classes had become safe-zones as well.  Muggle Studies, of course - especially in that class he found himself even more comfortable now that his secret had been exposed.  He was, often, much more free and open with his thoughts and experiences.  Professor Bombay had increasingly become one of Sasha's advocates at school making Herbology, as well, a rather comfortable class.

Sasha fully intended this session of Herbology to follow the pattern it had in the past.  His bag slung over his shoulder, he slipped into the Greenhouse and had settled himself at one of the work benches closest to the front of the class before he glanced up.  Professor Bombay wasn't standing at the front of the class, ready to glower at anyone who dared insult the plants with their mere unworthy presence.  It was a woman.  He stared at her a moment, baffled before Figaro's voice drew his attention away. 

Without introductions, it seemed Figaro was familiar with this woman.  Apparently enough so to be rather straight and blunt and ... at least in his book ... rude.  Staring at Figaro, Sasha slowly lowered himself into his seat, still determined to live by his new found (ok - maybe revived) principle of sit down, shut up, do your work and everything will be fine.  Without a word, he began tugging some parchment and his dragonhide gloves from his bag and pulled out a small notecard with a list of important figureheads from the French Revolution and began quizzing himself as he waited for others to arrive. 

The moment she saw him coming over, Dazmond was sure who the little man was.  She had seen Rafe's sons a time or two, around the shop, but the resemblance here was uncanny.  With those cheeks and that nose, she was positive.  That little tyke was the youthful Figaro Sellaphix walking up to her as sure as stone.  In any case, his rude-boy stance and the upfront words spilling out of his mouth would have given little room for wrong guesses.

Luckily for them both, perhaps, Figaro's name was not the one that had earned a cringe on her end.  Yet Dazmond was oblivious as to the face of Sasha Shlagenweit, and had no idea the prim boy fingering through flash cards was the muggleborn from the papers.

Almost immediately upon the class change, Sellaphix was there to dig up any bit of simmering awkwardness to the surface before it could bubble up naturally.  Dazmond's brows rose and she stood a little guarded as he laid out his proposal in a surly sort of way.  Did she detect the hint of a threat?  One didn't have to do any detective work about the look he gave her -- it was plain as day what he'd meant.  Dazmond couldn't help but smirk at the boy's way of going about things.  He wasn't so bad, for a fifteen year old.

Dazmond glanced to the room at large, then gently braced Fig's shoulder to turn them both away where she could lower her voice.  It was not intimidation she was going for, but she rather seemed to be tucking him under her wing.  If she knew teenaged boys, it was either hell or fun they'd have today -- with her as the stand-in Professor it all depended on the level of equity they established.  She would have leaned down toward him for affect, but they were already eye to eye. 

"To tell you the truth," she said calmly.  "I've nothing but respect for you and yours -- your old man's been good to us.  It isn't you or him I've got ill will toward.  Far as I'm concerned, you and me, we're in the same boat, Figaro.  Besides, I've heard you're ace at Herbology."  She allowed herself a sly smirk as she looked on him with earnest.  Merlin help her if it came out today that Nate had been released and... his dad had not. 

For once, Erin was on time to class. Even- he glanced around as he entered the room, noting only two other students- early. Well, that wasn't intentional. He'd been down at the Quidditch pitch for an hour or two, too close-by to have an excuse to be late. Because of this, he was wind-blown and dirty before he'd even gotten his hands into any Herbology dirt, his hands chilled, his cheeks flushed. His eyes lingered on prim Schlagenweit as the Slytherin dropped his school bag loudly and carelessly on a bench directly behind the prefect (the better to bother him), then flicked to the front of the room where Sellaphix was talking with their guest teacher. Erin had the feeling he'd be a lot dirtier before the end of class. He wouldn't mind messing up either of those  robes, and from the smell, there was a handy amount of dragon dung in the classroom to help him with that...

As for the woman Sellaphix was talking with, Erin didn't recognize her as anything other than their teacher for the day. Why would he? Good friends with his older brother, maybe, but Erin never knew Landis' business. It was better that he didn't, in this case, or Dazmond would have found him a particularly rude and unruly student today. As it were, he looked her over dispassionately, vaguely impressed in a teenage boy way by her small-but-tough looks. She reminded him a bit of Beatrix.

Not that Erin was going to think about why other people were reminding him of Beatrix. Oh, no, certainly not. Nor was he going to speculate about how she'd react to dragon dung on her skirt, either. Probably explosively.

Josh could be seen heading to the Herbology workshop, his mind wondering what else would happen. There had been so much going on recently, SAWS was being discredited, with Sasha being accused of all sorts of things being one of the things happening, then when Greyfriar was attacked, it didn't help... Josh wasn't stupid; he could smell a rat. Someone was trying to prevent SAWS succeeding, but who? Josh could not be sure.

Josh put his thoughts out of his mind as he arrived at the greenhouses. Entering the greenhouse where the workshop would occur, Josh looked around. Sasha, Selaphix, Harper were already here, and Weidman was, obviously, already here.

Xavier knew there was going to be a guest teacher today for their Herbology lesson but he wished he had had more warning as to who that guest teacher was going to be. As he entered the almost comfortably stuffy greenhouse Xavier made an unsteady step back trampling over the toes of the person filing in behind him. The sight of Dazmond had caught him off guard and he was very thankful for the fact that she seemed preoccupied with Figaro. Xavier muttered an apology to the student behind him and stepped out of the doorway so the others could get to their desks.

He ran his fingers through his hair trying to make it a bit more presentable and hastily tucked his uniform shirt into his trouser. He looked over his general appearance wishing he could grow some facial hair. It would have been nice to have an impressive goatee to show Dazmond. He wanted to show her how much he had grown up since she had last seen him over the summer. Xavier had thoroughly enjoyed the days and nights that Dazmond had come into his uncle's bar to either conduct business or simply enjoy herself.

He made his way over to his own seat glancing at his reflection in the misty greenhouse windows. He was decently pleased with his appearance and as he sat he stared up at the front. To be honest he wasn't at all surprised that Dazmond was having hushed words with Figaro. It had been her good for nothing husband that had put one of his best mates father's in Azkaban. Even if Mr Sellaphix was actually responsible for the cured runespoor venom, he was a veteran businessman, his only mistake being putting trust in a piece of trash like Briggs.

Xavier sat still at his desk, usually he would have used this time to finish up some work for another of his many classes but instead all of his attention was at the front of the class the dark creature inside him stirring with an unusually strong sense of jealousy at Dazmond's arm so casually wrapped around Fig's shoulder.

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Merlin's Beard! How could she have done it? How could she possibly let her twin convince her to actually go to class on time? Bellatrix stormed down from the castle towards the Greenhouses with her bag slung over her shoulder and her necktie hanging loosely around her neck while she attempted to tie it in her frustration.

"Ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous! A 'surprise' she said! What kind of surprise could Bombay have for us? I'll bet she's teasing me! Getting me back for that prank about her homework last week! Why, the very thought of a 'surprise'...absolutely mad, she is. Ridiculous!"

The Slytherin fifth year muttered to herself all the way across the grounds. By the time she entered the appointed Greenhouse at the designated time, she was just tightening the knot on her horribly fixated tie. Her body instantly stopped in the doorway to reassure herself that her blue eyes were not, in fact, lying to her. Dazmond Weidman! Here?! At Hogwarts?!

"I'll be buggered!"

There was a fit of giggles following her exclamation. Figaro Sellaphix was completely ignored as were the rest of the students when Bellatrix excitedly ran up to the woman she admired the most. Dazmond Weidman was her glorious idol! The woman could brew any potion, knew loads of plants and recipes, and was out-right mad in her own right. Of course, Bella had always been a little jealous that the Potions Mistress had taken such a particular interest in Beatrix. This feeling, however, was cast aside as easily as the other Fifth Year's presence standing near the gorgeous woman.

"Ooh, Madam Weidman here at Hogwarts," she giggled uncontrollably again, "this is so exciting! Beatrix told me there would be a surprise and I thought it was iffy, but you're here! Have you seen Lil Bee yet?"

Her head restlessly turned in every direction to try and find her twin. There was also an infinite amount of giggles coming from the usually moody Slytherin girl.

[Bea's Uniform]

Floating out of the Castle and towards the Green Houses, Beatrix Dark was completely smitten. Dazmond Weidman. In Hogwarts. Legally! A birthday present one day early! It was merely a month that she saw the woman, but she had been missing her dear friend for what seemed like ages. Not to mention, what if Daz had heard from her father? Merlin knows what else he was getting into since his escape... But, those weren't matters Beatrix would talk about in front of the whole class.

Beatrix stepped into the greenhouse, being greeted by the sight of her sister finally coming to class and Dazmond looming over the rest of the class like the bad ass she was. "Dazmond!" Beatrix squealed, running up to her friend and hugging her. "You look great! How long has it been? A year?" She winked and turned to her sister, "And look at you, coming to class on time..." Beatrix giggled. She didn't know if she was interrupting anything, but still. It was nice to be able to greet Daz without having to be secret about it.

But, Bea's smile faded as she looked around the classroom. What an awful group of people. Except Xavier, who wasn't so awful, and Sasha... Maybe Josh. Maybe Josh, when he wasn't too busy protecting his ego and trying to make Bea feel inferior to him. But, even then, Erin Harper? Figaro? That was two and a half people out of five that Beatrix couldn't stand. She couldn't help but give Erin the dirtiest look of her life before turning back to Daz,

"Hopefully this'll be quick so we can talk some more after class." Beatrix smiled.


(Btw, guys, all that talk about "awful" people was just a filler. I couldn't think of anything. xD)

uniform

Skeptical.

It was how to describe Neely’s aura in Herbology, since her great fall from the graces of Professor Graham Bombay.

Frequent gestures included tiptoeing on metaphorical eggshells and/or broken glass (aka supergross, damp soil), brown-nosing the head nose, flattering Mr. Society Page Extraordinare, and bashfully batting one’s eyes. In short, it was hell in last season’s hand basket, for the leaf teacher happened to be more cynical, socially-awkward, and sheltered from the sun than any of the Ravenclaws’ future offspring.

So, it was to the teensy Slytherin’s delight to find that Mr. Detention Giver had been replaced temporarily by the lovely potioneer from Diagon Alley.

With a triumphant yelp, and a ballerina’s leap, Neely practically twirled right there in the musty greenhouse. Were her school skirt not far too short, she would have done just that. Instead, she scurried into place, slamming her books down with a satisfying thump, and pushed through her classmates to be one of the forerunners in the crowd surrounding Dazmond Weidman.

“Ooooh! I bet we’re doing something glorious today,” she whispered loudly, beaming at the dark and dangerous woman.

Dazmond's eyes widened as an irruption of glee sounded at her back; turning over her shoulder, she saw Bellatrix gushing on her behalf in a fit of giggles.  Amusement quickly spread to encompass her face.  Having let Figaro have the last word, her arm slid easily off his back and she pulled the Dark twin into an embrace.  Her given title of 'Madam Wiedman' was met with a friendly wince, though the rest of Bella's rattling saw Dazmond smiling in a way that portrayed her inner laughter. 

"There she is," she said, as Beatrix popped up next to her sister.  She put an arm around each of them and kissed their cheeks in turn.  It'd been a while since she'd seen the both of them together.  She nodded.  "Yeah, let's talk after.  I'll write you a late note for your next classes."  Momentarily, she'd spaced the fact that this was the last class of the day.  But, she knew the twins would have heard about their father's escape from Azkaban.  Who hadn't?  It would be good to have a word with them after class.  Assuming they didn't wind up in the hospital wing.

Grinning bemusedly at the crowd forming around her, Dazmond shook her head and started shooing them all back.  "Alright, go, sit," she said, waving her arms at them.  Like a shepherd ringing her flock in, Daz steered them toward the tables to take their seats.  Crowd dispersed, she looked over the class and took a deep breath through her nose, straightening up and reorienting herself for another round.  Her gaze flickered across the room before settling on Xavier, and the corner of her mouth twitched up in a half-formed smile of recognition.

"Alright!" she said to the room at large.  "Welcome to Herbology -- the class where if you fail to follow directions you're liable to lose a nose.  So loosen up that plug of ear wax and listen, yeah?  I'm Dazmond.  I work out of Diagon and Knockturn as an independent Potioneer and Herbologist -- and Graham invited me to host my own workshop with you guys."  Having no respect for authority, aside from the fact that she had once played teacher's pet to the man, Dazmond abandoned the formalities of the 'Professor so-and-so' hogwash.  She gestured behind her to the levitating plants that were in stasis. 

"These are the specimens I collected in the forest with our seventh years," she explained.  "Dhatura Veneficus.  As part of the Solanaceae family, they're related to several strains of dormant magical Dhaturas, known even to muggles who consider them to be a special kind of entheogenic plant species.  Which, if you don't know, means 'God producing' -- or something to that effect.  The family also includes the mandrake, deadly nightshade, capsicum and -- who would have thought it -- petunias."  She counted them off on her fingers, then gave a little shrug.

"But unlike its family members, and despite the dangers of mandrake or the poisonous nature of some of its sisters, Dhatura Veneficus is a thoroughly magical, completely poisonous, active enchantress.  There are several dangers to consider when working with them.  These --" she gestured toward the plants again.  "Are in stasis.  Once we are all ready to begin our work, we'll be bringing them out of stasis.  Let me assure you that when those purple flowers open, they're going to start emitting something so powerful, it'll take potions and your highest wits not to be sucked in.  The communicative power of the Dhatura Veneficus resides in its blossoms -- giant purple and white trumpet flowers, which host double or even triple trumpets that rest one inside the other, with such a satiny flesh-like quality and the most alluring aroma, yeh might as well be in the deepest throes of love.  I'm not kidding."  She looked over the sea of faces, blinking.

"You'll learn how to hold your own while working with these plants, the flowers of which have literal claws that bite, thrash, and eject poison.  You'll learn what properties they bestow, and how to go about planting them and keeping them happy.  Today we'll be plotting them in a garden, something that involves companion planting -- which can be tricky.  Some of the plants in this room are extremely picky about who they share roots with.  Can I have a few volunteers to identify some of the potted plant specimens along the side tables?"

---

[OOC:  Anyone can volunteer and go ahead and speak out.  You can assume Daz will call on you once your hand is up.  Whatever the other plants are is entirely up to you!]

For once in her life, Bellatrix was paying attention in class after she gathered around the table with everyone else. Anyone might have guessed that it was the teacher who kept her interest and they would be partly correct. What Bellatrix was actually interested in this time was the fatal plants they were learning about. If she was ever to get a garden, it would be subjected only to the most deadly herbs. Oh, how she wished to use them for poisoning her enemies!

The lecture, surprisingly, wasn't long and boring as it sometimes was with Professor Bombay. Her eyes weren't dying to close on her as they usually did: she was wide awake and bushy-tailed. Once Madam Weidman finished her lecture and asked a question, Bellatrix glanced around and shot her hand up in the air. It was time Slytherin got some points back and that she start passing her classes.

"Those pots," she indicated the pots just behind her, "are Belladonna Angelica, also known as Deadly Nightshade. The purple pots are filled with Amortentia and the orange pots are Mandrakes in their adolescent stage. I think the second years are taking care of them."

It was a wonder that Bellatrix had any knowledge of what went on in the school, but there was her answer and she hoped that Madam Weidman would give her a couple of points for identifying three different specimens.

"Yeah, let's talk after.  I'll write you a late note for your next classes."

Beatrix beamed at the woman before turning once more to find a place to sit. Ahh... Bellatrix wouldn't put up with Sasha all too well (Plus, Erin was right behind him)... Nor would she with anyone else in the class. She settled on sitting with Tawse and began to drag her sister over. Beatrix didn't know much about how Bella felt towards the boy, only that she seemed confused and strange. It was best that Beatrix didn't ask.

As she passed Sasha, she gave him a smile, and her eyes hesitantly flicked towards Erin. He looked rather dirty up close... Sweaty... Her stomach twisted. Had he been "working out"? Her smile formed a grimace and her pace quickened. How dare he be attractive! She should have punched him! It's not like she liked guys with nice muscles, anyways. Oh, who was she kidding? Of course she liked guys with nice muscles (Of course... Vincent may have not been the biggest guy she met, but he did quite well for being the smart one of his family). Her grimace finally faded after she let her stuff drop next to Xavier.

"Hello, Mr. Tawse." She grinned before sitting down and caring less about what her sister would probably start blabbering about.

The lesson was amusing. And Beatrix was able to pay closer attention since she wasn't attracted to the "Professor" (She loved Dazmond... Just not in that way). Her sister was able to answer Daz's question quite quickly... She had always been good with Herbology. She just didn't seem to care for Bombay for some reason. A smirk formed on Bea's lips as her eyes darted to the potted plants, spying out the ones she knew.

"Oh! The ones on the far right there- See 'em? Those are Alihotsy!" Something Beatrix had learned from Dazmond not too long ago... Something she learned first hand. "They cause Hysteria if you eat their leaves, I believe." It probably wasn't surprising to anyone that she would know that.

As people trickled into the classroom, Sasha routinely glanced up from his flashcards to gauge their individual reactions.  The reactions seemed to range from the bored and uncaring to the squealing gleefulness of the Dark sisters.  No one, from what he could tell, seemed to share his surprise and confusion.  The obvious assumption was simple: Professor Bombay had announced this last week during the classes Sasha had missed while at the Ministry of Magic.  He knew Professor Bombay hadn't left or been dismissed; he'd spoken to the Professor on his arrival back to school.  The woman must just be a substitute.

Though unable to hear much of the conversation, he watched the body language of both the woman and Figaro with open, obvious curiosity, lifting his eyebrows inquisitively as the Hufflepuff regained his seat.  Distracted, he'd been unaware of Harper's arrival until a heavy thud sounded right behind him.  He jumped in his seat, pivoting in the direction of the sound, muttering, "Zum teuf- You're filth-" before quickly turning away, embarrassed of Harper's state for him.  Harper was among the ranks of students Sasha expected more trouble from for his now public status as a 'fake wizard.' 

Slowly, he turned back to his flashcards, trying to maintain his 'lay low and shuddup' strategy. 

He heard as much as saw (as much as heard other students' reaction to) Neely's entrance and glanced up from his top most card.  It was highly likely she (wasn't watching) wouldn't notice the gesture but he offered her a warm grin in greeting before tucking his cards away as class began.

The woman, Dazmond apparently, offered her introduction, shedding some light on the mystery of her presence (and Professor Bombay's absence).  She worked out of Knockturn?  She calls Professor Bombay Graham?  But, confusions aside, she was his professor for the day and all the new 'behave at all costs' rules still applied.   Without hesitation, he turned his attention to note taking as she introduced the plants at the front of the room.

Communicative power - blossoms - alluring aroma - deepest throes of love.  Scarlet blossomed on Sasha's face but he couldn't resist a quick, inexplicable glance in Neely's direction.  Distracted, it was a few moments before he realized he was missing out on an opportunity to answer a question and make a very important good first impression.  As both Dark sisters grew quiet, Sasha quickly lifted a hand into the air, pushing himself politely to his feet before offering an answer when acknowledged. 

"The third pot from the left, I suspect, has a violet-toothed Sarracenia, ma'am.  It's usually found among North-facing scree slopes in the Alps."  He'd found a few specimens back home.  Painfully aware, as he often was in front of new professors, of the harsh germanic edge to his accent, he continued.  "Related to mundane pitcher plants, it is also a carnivorous plant.  It's identifiable by the small peanut-shaped growths at the bottom of the mouth-bowl which it uses to lure rodents in.  The violet teeth along the bowl scratch at the animal as it tries to climb out.  The teeth produce a venom-like bacteria that inhibits blood clotting causing the animal to bleed out in the plant's bowl." 

Quickly, he sat back down before sounding too much like a brown-nosing prat.  He refrained from admitted he'd been tempted to take a sample of it and culture it in a muggle laboratory.  Who knew the medicinal properties of some of these magical plants?

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Mysti hurried down and out of the castle. She had run down to the Hufflepuff common room to change shoes before going out to the greenhouses.  Today was a special guest lecture day.  Mysti didn’t want to miss it, so changed shoes quickly.  As it was now November, and getting quite chilly outside, she decided heels were not a good option. She slipped on some comfortable boots, and grabbed her new trench coat before heading back out of the girls’ dormitory.

Of course, Mysti had just walked out of the exit of the common room before realizing she left her backpack on her bed. Mumbling a few choice words, she headed back into the common room and into her dorm.  Mysti grabbed her bag and pulled out the books in order to insert her herbology tools.  Now, making sure she had everything this time, she paused before heading back out.  She walked fast in order to make it to the greenhouse in time.

Nearly running into the greenhouse, Mysti settled herself in with the crowd just moments before Dazmond Wiedman began talking. Mysti nearly groaned when she realized she was sitting near a few Slytherins. Not exactly how she wanted to spend this workshop. She just hoped it wouldn’t be too bad. Quieting her mind, Mysti pulled out her notebook and quill and listened to what Miss Wiedman had to say.

The plants seemed quite dangerous, and the Hufflepuff girl wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with them. She’d never been particularly good at herbology, but was getting better. Of course, Mysti kept quiet as Bellatrix, Beatrix, and Sasha named the plants that Dazmond had pointed to. The girl just wrote her notes and tried to play close attention to what was being said. She had a feeling that the information she learned today would be quite important.