Daydreams and Shrivelfigs PV Sarah Lightwood closed

Interacting with @Alina Rosier
English • #2E8B57 | Welsh • #0080BF | French • #804080

Herbology certainly wasn’t Sarah’s favourite class she was taking here at Hogwarts. It was no match for the excitement she felt when she mastered a new spell in Charms or feeling she got when she perfectly bred a potion, but Herbology had its charms. She loved to learn - an admittedly very Ravenclaw trait of hers, though one she embraced wholeheartedly - and so learning about new plants and their magical properties and how they faired in different weathers was to some degree interesting. But today’s lesson had managed even to bore her.

Instead of the usual class, their professor had instructed the students - a class of Slytherins and Hufflepuffs - to prune the Shrivelfigs. Gardening, they have us gardening, Sarah thought, rolling her eyes to herself as she stood up. Complain and grumble as she might, she was going to do the work assigned to her. She wasn’t in the mood for another disagreement with a professor, especially not about gardening. She bent to retrieve a pair of gloves when her eyes caught sight of a Hufflepuff sat at the desk next to hers.

Sarah immediately noticed her wide eyes, ones which looked slightly lost as they scanned the room. She cast her eyes down to the parchment on her desk which was covered in doodles. A slight smirk fell upon Sarah’s face as she realised the girl had been paying no mind to the lesson and was likely confused about why everyone had suddenly stood up. It was something which had happen to the Slytherin on more occasions than she dare admit. Taking pity on the girl, she moved to stand just beside her desk, making it appear as if she was grabbing something should Professor MacTavish notice.

“We’re trimming the Shrivelfigs. Come on, let’s go find a plant before MacTavish comes over,” she said to the girl quietly, a small smile on her lips, before quickly adding, “and as wonderful as those drawings are, I’d put them away before they cost you any house points.” She grinned, letting out a light chuckle as she made her way over to a nearby plant pot. Sarah looked back at the Hufflepuff. She looked somewhat familiar, Sarah having seen her around the school and in classes a few times, though she wasn’t certain if they’d ever spoken. She inclined her head in the direction of her plant pot, a silent offer for the girl to come and join her.

Interacting with @Alina Rosier
English • #2E8B57 | Welsh • #0080BF | French • #804080

Sarah smiled inwardly as she saw the girl quickly closing her notebook and coming her way. The mention of house points always seemed to make students listen - Sarah included. It wasn’t so much that she cared about gaining house points herself, she’d spent much of her life purposefully annoying those who had authority over her, namely her father. But being in Slytherin gave her a certain sense of belonging and she’d never want to be the one to ruin it for her house.

“Yeah, Shrivelfigs,” Sarah said with a small frown on her face as she looked down at the plant. “Apparently we’re gardeners as well as students now,” She chuckled, trimming one of the less healthy looking branches. She felt the girl looking at the side of her face and brought her own eyes up to meet her once she’d finished with the part of the plant she was trimming. There was something familiar about her that wasn’t just from seeing her in classes. Rosier, she mused over the name for a moment before she made the connection. “Bella’s sister, I assume. How is she?” She said. Not having known the girl well, but she’d spoken to the girl in passing multiple times.

“Oh, and I'm Sarah Lightwood,” She said after a moment pause, forcing a smile, always mildly dubious when giving her last name. Her father was a fairly well-known Pure-Blood who had a particular distaste for anyone who wasn’t. She’d often been subject to pre-made opinions because of it.

Alina’s words made her laugh, glancing around the room quickly to see a few Paris of eyes glancing over in her direction. She forced back a blush, momentarily thankful for her years of experience of hiding her emotions. “I’m fairly sure MacTavish just sees us as free labour,” She agreed, having discussed this on numerous occasions with one of the Slytherin third years she was friends with. She paused for a moment, the pair trimming the plant in a comfortable silence, before she spoke. “I meant what I said before, bye the way. Your drawings really were good. Is art something you do often?” She asked, her curiosity always one to get the better of her.

Interacting with @Alina Rosier
English • #2E8B57 | Welsh • #0080BF | French • #804080

Sarah nodded, glad to hear that Bella was doing well. No, she may not have known her well, but she had always been of the understanding that doing what made you happy was the right thing. And if being at Beauxbatons made the ex-Slytherin happy, then so be it. Sarah just couldn’t imagine herself there - it all seemed too rigid. She caught the slight sadness on Alina’s face and felt bad for the girl. Being separated from a sibling was difficult, let alone a twin. “I know I’m meant for here too. Being at Hogwarts, in Slytherin, feels like home,” She said, not quite realising how sentimental her words sounded until she replayed them in her mind and cursed inwardly. It was far too personal a comment to share with someone she’d just met and she was annoyed it had slipped out. She tried to focus on the Hufflepuff talk about her drawing.

“I wish I could draw. My mother used to love art but I didn’t get the gene,” she smiled, remembering the many times she’d walked in on her mother in an apron, covered in paint, as she painted her latest piece. Sarah’s favourite had always been the landscape of the grounds she’d painted one Christmas when the grass was covered in snow. It hung above her bed at home. She pulled herself out of her memories with a question. “Is Herbology your favourite class then? Or do you just enjoy drawing plants?” She asked curiously, idly playing with the sheers in her hand, her attention no longer on the plant. She paused for a moment. “Oh, and I’m sure he’d probably appreciate it. Definitely worth asking at least.”

She considered Alina’s question for a moment, a sarcastic retort slipping past her lips before she could stop it. “Oh, you mean other than going around scaring first years?” She asked with a teasing grin. The Slytherin stereotype was more funny than not to her. Sure, Sarah wasn’t the best conversationalist, nor was she the best at putting up with people who bored her, but she was fiercely loyal and wouldn’t hesitate to stand up for anyone who needed it - irrelevant of their house. She shook her head, realising not everyone shared her dry sense of humour and her sarcasm was often unwanted and misunderstood. “When I’m not dancing, I spend most of my time in the library or Charms classroom,” She said with a smile, glancing around the classroom to make sure they’d not missed any new instructions. “I’ve always loved spell casting,” She added.

Interacting with @Alina Rosier
English • #2E8B57 | Welsh • #0080BF | French • #804080

At the mention of the dance club, Sarah found herself smiling. She’d been overwhelmingly happy when she’d discovered the club, excited to get back to dancing when she was at Hogwarts. She’d danced since she was youngish having started her ballet training at three years old. Her mother had been an avid dancer and it was something they had done together. Now, whenever she danced she felt close to her mother again, used it as an escape to forget about the accident and her loss. Though ballet had been her first love, she was also proficient in latin and ballroom, and a few more modern styles of dancing - much to her father’s chagrin.

“Ballet and ballroom are the main focus,” Sarah admitted, though at their last meeting it had been clear that there were dancers of all abilities and styles. She hoped the other styles would be furthered explored, though the leader of the group, Ana Beckett, wasn’t exactly the sort you could argue with if she didn’t. “But no not everyone has to wear tutus,” She chuckled softly, knowing that as much as she loved ballet, she absolutely abhorred having to wear those itchy skirts. “At our last meeting, we practised for the ball, which was expectedly hilarious,” She smiled at the memory, humour flooding her eyes as she remembered the overly exaggerated bowing and curtsying they’d ended up practising instead of dancing.

“Do you dance?” She asked when she managed to pull herself out of her thoughts. “If you’re interested, you’d be more than welcome to come to the next meeting to try it out,” She offered excitedly, always eager to pull more people into the club. “Obviously, you don’t have too. And if you did there’d be no pressure to join,” she was quick to add, not wanting to seem too forward. She silently wished that she too had a lemon drop to silence her ramblings.