The New Year often brought new hope for most individuals, providing the means of looking at the future positively or with a fresh start. Unfortunately for Myrni Levartian, her new year did not speak with quite the same promise or optimism as years past. She was finding it difficult to look ahead to the future, since in many ways, it felt uncertain. The holiday season, particularly the encounters with the Whitman family, had not been kind to the arithmancy professor.

Following them, she had gone to great lengths to place some distance between herself  and Nathan and his family, hastily making an excuse to get away to Salem for the remainder of the time between Christmas and the start of the new year. When he suggested that he go with her so that they could spend some time together, she had protested and reminded him of his work at the Auror office.

Myrni had to think. She had to clear her head again of all the negative and doubtful thoughts that were creeping in. Was she really going to have to endure Oz and the rest of the Whitman clan for eternity. Could she handle it? Did she want to? Was love enough to choose that?

Sometimes she wondered if her inkling to say no to wanting to do that meant that she was not a strong enough person. But then she wondered if it suggested she was simply choosing a higher ideal?

After grading some papers in her office and working on some research for an upcoming scholarly publication, Myrni decided to get some fresh air. She bundled herself up in her warmest clothes and coat before heading out of the castle  and down towards the lake.

On her way there, she passed by the greenhouses and briefly her thoughts went to the school's Herbology professor, who had become more likeable in their recent interactions. Because of this, Myrni wondered if he might be around and would be a willing listener to some of her thoughts of late.

The snow crunched underfoot as she backtracked towards the door to the nearest greenhouse. She paused for a moment to listen for any sounds of another person around. After a moment, she finally cleared her throat and called, "Graham? Are you here?"

Ankles deep in fresh mud, Graham ignored the water pooling around his boots.  The Indian Wolfhound Firebrush had just come in, and Graham was quickly getting the plant adjusted to its new home.  Straight into the ground it went, with a good span of three feet separating it from the other foliage.  Despite the antagonistic name, Graham worked without gloves, missing the feeling of fresh soil upon his hands; both hands deep within the ground, caressing roots as he acclimated it to its new environment. 

The sudden entrance of a voice spooked the Herbology professor, and the shrub quivered in protest.  "Sorry," he muttered to it, slowly withdrawing his hands from its nether regions to softly push loose soil over it as cover, "Just a minute."  Why he felt the need to be more polite to his plants than humans was a mystery he refused to solve. 

He dusted his hands on his robes before using the elbow of his sleeve to wipe his eyes.  "Yeah," he called out, making his way to the door. Oh.  Oh!  "Hello," he spoke awkwardly, belatedly realizing that his voice was far too cheery.  He dampened the smile that had immediately sprung at the realization of her arrival.  "Come in, I was..."  Dirty.  He was untidy from head to toe and covered in topsoil.  And mud,"...just cleaning up."  He made his way to the small sink, moving the trays of seedlings from the basin.  "What can I do for you?" he asked politely, trying to hide his glee by washing his hands.

Myrni felt a wave of relief wash over her as she heard Graham's voice respond to her inquiry. She stepped closer to the greenhouse door. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but for some reason, seeing Graham a bit disheveled from his profession made him more endearing to her. It meant that he was passionate about something--enough to thrust his hands right into it without a care for the outside world. It humanized him.

"Oh don't stop working just because of me," she murmured. Her eyes roamed around his greenhouse with the wonderment of a child, realizing that she had probably not been inside a greenhouse such as this since her Hogwart's days. Even to her untrained eye, she could tell that there were many special plants in this little safehaven of his and it was impressive.

Myrni removed her gloves and stuffed them inside the pockets to her jacket before she approached a grouping of plants. She heard his question, but immediately she became preoccupied by their beauty. "Oh wow," she breathed, tentatively reaching out to lightly caress the nearest leaf. Her Gryffindor impulsiveness did not seem at all put off by the realization that doing so might be filled with a little danger. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Oh, 'course not," he spoke hastily, drying his hands on a questionably clean rag.  His hands tingled from the draft on his damp skin, as Graham hastily scanned the area for unmentionables.  After classes were done for the day, the greenhouses typically turned into his own living area.  One where he did not often expect visitors, if ever.

"Yes..." he spoke slowly, turning to see that Myrni stood a fair distance from where he had previously seen her.  She moved quick; and just as Graham realized where she was and what she was doing, he cried out.  "Careful!" he spoke, hands out as if to stop her although he stood a few feet away and out of reach.  He rushed over, already expecting a shriek or a cry or some other exclamation of pain, only to see she stood unhurt.  "Oh," he sighed, releasing the breath he did not think he still held, and only beginning to become aware of how fast his heart beat.  He stared intently at her hand, and at the plant, curious of its compliance to her touch.

"She...likes you."  He puzzled out, although it shouldn't have been any surprise considering Graham's own feelings toward the professor.  "Odd," he mused.  "And um, yes,"  he added, recalling her previous question, "It's an Indian Firebrush crossed with a variation on the wolfhound fern.  A friend of mine's been experimenting and I told him I'd like to keep one and see how it did."

Myrni felt a sense of accomplishment for having correctly identified the plant. It had been a long time since she had been in a herbology state of mind, but her memory was still quite sharp. She beamed and continued to affectionately stroke the plant's leaves, while her gaze lingered on its uniqueness.

Basking in that small victory was cut short, however, when Graham unexpectedly called for for her to be careful. A bewildered expression came over her face as her eyes flew to see the look on Graham's.  She was about to retract her hand from touching the plant because of it, but when relief replaced the worry on his face, she relaxed again.

"I guess it's a good thing she does," she breathed, half joking as her eyes flitted back and forth between the plant and the herbologist. She sheepishly added, "I suppose I shouldn't have done this without asking first if she was tame enough to touch. I'm sorry, Graham. I didn't mean to give you a start."

She gave the plant one last stroke before she stepped away. She clasped her hands in front of her, to keep from touching anything else like an impulsively curious child and instead glanced around the greenhouse. After a moment of silent appreciation, she declared, "You have a marvelous collection. I am envious."

Graham blushed at her apology, glad for the excuse of talking of his plants in lieu of scrambling for pleasant chatter.  He was never one for small talk.  "It's fine," he replied, "More of a habit, really, I usually only see students. They usually aren't much for common sense" he added with a sheepish shrug. 


As she stepped aside, Graham blushed at the compliment.  "Thank you," he replied modestly, "I'm quite proud.  It helps to be able to care about something here," he added, his blush reddening afterward once he realized what he said.  Care about.  Something like her.  "I mean...," he started, "It's...my sanctuary." Better.  Something that couldn't be construed to be about her.  Hooch said to focus on trust.  Graham was still unsure of how that was accomplished, but he had to be her friend first.  And be pleasant.


"I'm sure you'd have quite the collection as well, if...well, you know, there was anything to collect," he continued, absentmindedly ruffling the back of his hair.  As much as he hated it, small talk was required for friendship.  "So erm...can I help you with something?" He asked, hoping the desperate tone in his voice wasn't as obvious as he thought.  She couldn't be visiting just to talk to him, right?

Myrni simply smiled at him and resisted the urge to chuckle at his comments about the students. Perhaps being a Gryffindor and knowing how impulsive she had been as a student, she considered that it was easier to accept that some traits about students and teenagers in general -- muggle or magical born -- would always exist.

She nodded when he turned the conversation to the concept of having a sanctuary. "Oh I know what you mean, completely. I don't have something quite as large as this--" she said splaying her hands out to indicate to the spaciousness of the greenhouse. "--But I am quite protective over my own office. Since Graham seemed to be opening up a bit, she decided to divulge a little bit of information about what she collected. She stepped closer and cleared her throat. "There is actually something that I have been working on since I arrived here to teach."

She paused, her expressive eyes searching his face for the signs that she could trust him with the information she was about to share. For the briefest of moments, the orbs seemed to flicker with some doubt, but almost as quickly, it was replaced by reassurance. "I call it the Sticky Numbers Project. I have this big piece of parchment in my office," she began, careful not to share where exactly it was. She wasn't prepared for that just yet. "And I keep track of everyone on it in terms of what the numbers say about them. And then....also....reflections that I  have made about them in the time that I've known them...and whether I think the numbers are right or not."

Myrni ventured closer still to the Herbology professor. She didn't intentionally ignore his question about helping her; It was just that she was carried away with her attempt at sharing. "I must say....what I wrote in the beginning about you....I might take back."