Deeply Rooted PV Ruthie Greer Closed

She didn't like coming back here. In fact, she hated coming back here to the hospital wing. It was the one place in the school filled with some of her darkest memories. That and the ballroom. But she was getting better, and as her mother had reminded her over the Christmas holiday, the only thing worse than going back would be not going back. And she finally had a decent excuse to try and tackle the fear and it wasn't an unfortunate fall in the SWAG match.

It was an errand. A kind, gentle errand about spreading kindness. The task was simple: to place flowers around the school. She had gone by the greenhouses, but strayed outside, wanting to get a hold of some natural Scottish flora like heather, hawthorn and cross-leaved heath. She sprinkled this with Dittany to add a magical touch. It wasn't long before she had a decent amount, but her walk back to the school was cold and lonely. The last time she had been by the greenhouses on an errand had been with Shauna. The poor girl had nearly run into a Devil's Snare. Funny, walking into things turned out to be Shauna's Achilles heel. Even now, she missed her friend and housemate who had been so abrupt to begin with, but turned out to be friendly in her own once she had gotten to know her.

And so came the natural question of where to put her flowers. There were so many more places that were easy, convenient like the common room or the great hall. But in the months following both the ball and Shauna's demise, Ruthie had felt a desperate pull to be useful. So, she asked herself a simple question: where did people need cheer? The answer was all too obvious: in the single place where she had felt fear, pain and sorrow. And that was why she was coming back down the corridor towards the Hospital Wing.

But once she got close, she felt her body freeze up. Her walk slowed as if she couldn't quite make it; she couldn't go there, not when the memories still plagued her. And that was when she felt another body collide with hers. It wasn't too hard, certainly not a bludger, but hard enough for some of the flora to fall out of her leather satchel as well as some of notes, coincidentally on herbology. She should really be spending more time on Transfiguration considering she was barely passing, but it was things like Charms and Herbology were she both excelled and spent her time wanting to learn more. Herbology was particularly easy because of her background, growing up with a botanist as a mother. As such, her notes were extremely detailed, occasionally citing material not in the first year book, and held drawings of the plants. These were not artistic, but more scientific, focusing on things like proportion rather than beauty.

"It's okay," Ruthie chirped upon realizing her fear had gotten in the way of both herself and another student. A charming introduction. "Looks like we both had the same idea," she continued as she knelt down to help pick up the items, including flowers which were not her own. Furrowing her brow, she wanted to identify them, but she never quite had that extra second to be sure so she asked. "Which flowers did you go for?" she queried, "I did a bit of wild flower picking, myself. And I got some Dittany for good measure. Seemed appropriate to be bringing here." Dittany was, of course, well known for its healing properties. She smiled lightly, trying to make conversation rather than face the hospital wing. And that was when she got an idea: "Do you want to work together? We could probably get all the flowers up in hospital and have it well decorated more quickly." All of this was true and logical, as was often her mind. But it had the added benefit of her not being in the hospital wing alone. And that would be quite a boon indeed.

For @John Wolfe | WC: 685

The bluebells the boy had chosen were lovely. She'd always preferred blue as her favorite color, probably because it reminded her of the sea. The other flowers in his care were a mix of violets and heather, which complimented the bluebells well. "Wales, eh?" she asked, curious. The blonde had never left her mother country, Scotland. Even other parts of the UK remained a mystery. Though, of course, she knew of Scotland's fierce rivalry with England. Wales seemed okay though. Perhaps they hated the English too. That was always a useful thing to bond over as she had seen her parents do on countless occasions, usually concerning sports or politics.

"Ah..." she said, looking over his bouquet when he mentioned he had picked something local that he couldn't quite identify. Purple with a thin stem and that iconic curved shape rather like a whimsical umbrella. "Harebell," she identified it promptly, "Though it is rather early for them. Probably due to the fact it's been unseasonably warm." How warm it actually was might have been up to interpretation. For the Scottish girl, this had been mild though she had noticed other students trampling about the grounds, visibly uncomfortable.

"Yes, Dittany," she reply, "This one I have admit I also collected from the greenhouses. The nurses probably have plenty in store here, but it's probably all mashed up and turned into some medicine. I mean that's their job, but I rather prefer herbs unharmed." Perhaps it was an odd idea. Herbs and plants should be used, of course, but there was something about seeing them in their natural state, unplucked and untouched, that made Ruthie happy. She always cared for the environment and wished her fellow humans, magic and muggle, would too.

"Brilliant," she agreed with a light smile. If she was going to have to go in here, even if it was for the good of others, she much rather not do it alone. As Ruthie tucked the final mislaid papers back in her bag, she noticed his comment about being alone. Raising an eyebrow slightly, she considered the thought. It was odd to think this boy was often by himself, he seemed rather charming. She didn't know quite what it was about him--his manner or his smile--but there was definitely something. "Ruth," she introduced herself, "Ruthie Greer. I mean, that's what most people call me." To be honest, she was rather surprised he didn't recognize her. Most people did, after the ball. Perhaps he'd been lucky enough not to attend.

And that was when he held the door open for her like a gentlemen, holding some of her flowers, and asking the daunting question "Shall We?" Ruthie stood there for a couple of seconds, just staring at what was now visible behind the door frame. Peeking out she could see some of the beds. Which one had held Dymph just after the ball? Or Thora after she got knocked out in SWAG? Were there new sheets or were these ones that had held blood--so much blood--and they'd just been magically washed? And so she stood, staring and breathing before biting her lip and finally picking up her feet to scoot inside. Once she was in, she put a hand against the shelf by the door and looked back at John. "Sorry, I just needed a minute," she confessed, not wanting to look anymore awkward than she already had. "Bedside tables, yeah? That'd be a good place for flowers," she suggested. A task, she imagined, might help her better come to terms with this difficult place.

NB: Harbell is an excellent choice!
For @John Wolfe