Herbology was a tedious subject.

Probably because Adam was never good with caring for anything - pets, plants, human beings. Pets were smelly, plants were dirty, and human beings were complicated. And as an only child, Adam had the excuse to not possess the skill and patience to care at anything else beside himself. He had enough things to think about without having to worry about those.

Things like NEWT, things like graduation, things like career.

Things like Graham Bombay, who decided to make them (him) care for plants for the whole term.

Adam's face scrunched as he recalled the man.

Shaking the thought off, his fingers pinched his nose as he stood up. Arm stretched out, as far as his skinny limb allowed, he carried the bucket of Mooncalf dung toward the wooden desk at the side of the classroom. With a loud thud and a too  obvious excitement to have the bucket away from him, he set it under the table, nudging it further inside with his shoe before tossing a cloth to cover the bucket. Removing his gloves, he cast another quick look at his plot, his plants growing steadily, healthily and a smile tucked at the corner of his pale pinkish lips, certain that they would be fine when he spent his winter break home.

Contented, he slipped his right hand into his pocket, extracting a piece of parchment, folded neatly. Unfolding it, he found the letter he had written once, and yet read hundredth of time and as if the hundredth time was not enough, his eyes skimmed the words in it again. After all, it wouldn't hurt to make sure that his internship application for the summer at the apothecary back home was nothing less than perfection.

Repeating the words softly to himself, he turned his head only when he heard the door swung open.

The greenhouses of Hogwarts had been standing for longer than Graham could guess.  The large glass panels had withstood ages of storms, magical battles and generations of children.  They were impenetrable, full of knowledge that Graham himself envied.  They were stalwart guardians of all he held dear and the closest things he had to family on the grounds.

Like Graham, however, at times they showed their age.  His potions cabinet was not as well stocked as he would have liked, and his favorite warming spell required an infusion with spices not commonly found on Hogwarts property.  He had been forced to order them from an old pal in Bolivia.  After fetching them from the owlery, Graham descended back down to the greenhouses only find them already occupied.  It was good to see his older students taking responsibility for their projects, and to find it was one of his Ravenclaws was expected.  Although of course, Adam Reed could use a bit of extra time with his plot. 

Graham set his package on the table, unwrapping the brown parcel paper as he spoke gruffly to the boy. "Don't use it all, that's my last bucket before the next moon."  Graham set out the glass bottles, turning over each bottle as he examined it.  He tapped the bottom of the Heliog jar, freeing some of the crushed grains from the sap lining the bottom. 

Graham glanced back at the boy, realizing he also held a slip of parchment. Pieces of parchment suspiciously handled by students and professors alike never boded well for him.  "Let me guess, Fraiser wants to use you for his book?" He huffed, hand extended, asking for the parchment.  "What is he doing now, exploring the bordellos of Amsterdam? In the name of science of course.  It's a wonder Snark hasn't spoken to him yet," Graham added, mumbling the last part.  It seemed all Isaac Fraiser wanted in life was to exploit Graham's Ravenclaws. In Graham's eyes, Sasha Schlagenweit's descent into trouble started the moment Fraiser asked him on that damned expedition.

Sometimes, when he wasn't too busy doing, too engrossed in accomplishing, too absorbed with achievements, Adam would find himself troubled by the thoughts of graduating. It was also probably why he had been occupying himself with school works, the orchestra and anything else he could get his hands on. But even with all that, it was, of course, inevitable to realise that at the same time next year, he would be somewhere else, doing whatever it was he wanted to.

Problem was, he wasn't sure what he wanted to do.

Of course, if he was to look around him, he would realise that half (or even more) of his peers would have the same concern. But then, they didn't have a family who lived in the muggle world when clearly they could have easily fit in the magical community. They didn't have a father who expected his son to continue on his footsteps, taking care of their business when he graduated. They didn't have the same passion Adam had with Potions.

And those made a whole lot of difference.

His blue eyes traveled along as the professor advanced into the room. The piece of parchment held idly on his hand, forgotten momentarily when the professor unpacked the bottles. He too, observed the potion, though lack the attentiveness of the man. Instead, a puzzled expression coloured his face as he tried to figure out what they were. But of course, as a seventeen years old, Adam lacked the potions knowledge to do so.

"Hmm?" A soft mutter escaped his lips as the man spoke. His gaze reluctantly drifted from the potions to the professor before realising that he was talking about his letter. "Oh, no, Sir. I hardly think Professor Fraiser would need anything from me." Adam had never taken Muggle Studies since he attended the school. Beside, it wouldn't be much fun learning about muggles through the eyes of Adam Reed who had been living with muggles for his whole life.

"Especially not if he was to explore the bordellos of Amsterdam."

He continued, eyeing the man before promptly returning his attention to his letter. It was safer to look at.

"This is my internship application to an apothecary back home." came his reply as he offered it to the man, "I heard they have an opening, I think it's a good opportunity. I think."

Throughout the years, Graham had cataloged many personalities within the Ravenclaw house.  There were the high-maintenance perfectionists who utilized their intelligence for the pursuit of vain, selfish glory; the brash, resourceful fellows who balanced wit and brawn, only lacking the arrogance to make them of Salazar's kin had often come and gone; but the majority of Rowena's brood made up the quiet, shy ones who waited for everyone to kill each other, surviving to take the gold left standing unprotected. It was those he was most proud of, and Adam Reed certainly fell within the last category.  Sometimes the petite boy reminded him of himself, except less hairy.

Setting down his own potions, Graham took the offered paper, reading over their required qualifications.  "Give yourself more credit, Reed.   You could probably write Fraiser out of a career." Of course the following thought was unvoiced, but Graham was determined that his next stab at a manuscript would be one to blast Fraiser's Witches Weekly winning smile right out of the lake.

"Is this your father's shop?" Graham asked casually, noting the request for references.  He was familiar with most of the apothecaries in London proper, and even a few outside, but this one escaped him.  Of course, his own short-lived apothecary hadn't made Graham many acquaintances, hence his downfall.  "Or are you trying to branch out, see how the competition lives, eh?" It was a smooth idea, sending out the most loyal spy to gain an objective eye of the potions industry.  Graham probably would have done it himself if he had a child.  Then again, the idea of having a child was too awful to consider despite the benefits. 

"I can write a letter of recommendation, if that's what you're after.  I don't have a problem giving one of my top students a leg up.  You've got a good start with this.  Not many students do more than scratch their nose and wonder why they're going to be living on the street in a few months."  Graham rolled his eyes, thinking distinctively of the Hufflepuff house.  They weren't particularly known for their successes, despite a few shining pupils.