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xx | It was nearly the end of the third week of classes, and first-year Kahira Valerian was coming to the quick but steady realisation that she did not like Herbology. They had been preparing to repot Mandrakes, learning about the whole "which pot size makes them most comfortable" and "what type of soil they deserve" bit, for the last few classes. The redhead had tried to pay attention and follow along, really she had, but honestly, Mandrakes were only used in antidotes, and Kahira's family wasn't in the business of brewing those. Sure, they occasionally dipped their toes into healing potions, but for the most part, the Valerian Consortium dealt in the changing of the physical, not in the fixing of the physical. Perhaps it was just that Kahira wasn't so interested in plant growth when her Maman wasn't around; having come from a long line of Herbologists on her mother's side, the redhead had always been expected to help out in the greenhouse and the gardens at their Cotswolds estate, but without any parent to impress in the immediate vicinity, her intrigue in the subject fell rather flat. On this particular morning, she was the first of her mates to show up at Herbology class, though - not because she was particularly excited for yet another day of wearing earmuffs (seriously, one of fashion history's least flattering inventions - fur? on a headband?!), but rather because she was starting to get into the habit of trying to get to breakfast extra early so as few people as possible had to see her sitting at the (gag) Hufflepuff table. As more and more of her classmates started to filter in, Kahira sent many of them away from the saved seat beside her with withering stares - in essence, sit here, and I shall make your life miserable. If she had to deal with repotting a whiny baby, she'd rather have done it with a person who wasn't in and of themselves a whiny baby. But soon there were only a few spots left, and as the last few wandered into the classroom, it began to dawn on the fiery little redhead that she might end up having to deal with a partner that was less than ideal for today's assignment. Ugh. Isn't that just my luck? |
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Last edited by Kahira Valerian on 17 Aug 2026, 20:28, edited 2 times in total.
| kahira valerian second gen | _____________________ | shop | ___________________ |
Saving Seats
Late. That was the first thought rushing through Morgan's mind as he quickly, but carefully tried making his way to the Herbology class, moving through students and the castle quickly towards his destination. It was the third week and he still had been having trouble finding his way around the massive castle even if he had been to his classes already, the constant changing stairs and roves of students made the place feel like one giant labyrinth.
He was really moving quickly though because he absolutely did not wish to be late for Herbology because he had found out, rather quickly, that he quite enjoyed the class. In all his previous schooling he had never had really any classes that focused on plants but here, there was a whole class dedicated to them and they were magical which was even more fascinating. They had recently been learning about some kind of plant known as Mandrakes which could apparently be quite dangerous, which did concern Morgan a slight bit, but everything he had learned sounded fascinating. and he was very eager to properly repot one as they apparently were supposed to be doing at some point. Walking faster, he really just didn't want his notes to be completely and utterly useless if he missed half the class so he picked up his pace.
Eventually, slightly out of breath, he managed to make it to the classroom. Much to his surprise, class hadn't quite started which meant he wasn't late but to his dismay, most, if not almost all the seats were about taken up. Not wanting to cause much of a fuss or scene, he quickly tried to fix his tousled dark hair slightly, as it had become rather askew in his frantic move to get to class, and quickly moved to the first open seat he saw.
In the seat next to the one he had moved towards, he saw a girl with red hair who he was pretty sure was also in Hufflepuff. He had definitely seen her in class of course but, admittedly, he had mostly been keeping his head down when it came to interacting with people so there was honestly no telling. He couldn't help but feel as though she looked a bit... annoyed? Angry? Morgan couldn't quite tell, he wasn't always the best at reading people, but figured maybe he should ask her if it was okay to sit in the seat beside her before just plopping his stuff down.
"Uh... hi, would it be alright if I sat here," Morgan asked in his characteristically kind of monotone voice that he had, figuring it never hurt to be a little polite.
Dialogue: Morgan - #786012
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xx | The antsy tapping of her heels against the dirty floor of the greenhouse clicked an increasingly nervous tik-tik-tik as the time, too, ticked on. Any moment now, the class would be starting, so where were the people she actually liked? Kahira ground her teeth together in frustration, then quickly fixed the posture of her jaw, lest someone see. It was in this moment that she heard the approaching footsteps, and the voice - male, and unfamiliar, asking permission to be seated. That was a good thing, at least - someone who knew that they couldn't just sit next to her without permission, for there were unfortunately those with the gall to simply assume an empty seat beside her meant an open invitation - but that was essentially the last good impression of Morgan Faughn that Kahira Valerian would have during this class. She turned to peer judgmental dark eyes up at him, her frustration about her friends' lateness coming to weigh full force upon his slender shoulders, as though it were - apparently - her "fellow" Hufflepuff's fault that they hadn't arrived yet. The redhead's gaze tore over his taller frame, taking it apart piece by piece - Ill-fitting clothing, disheveled hair, boring voice, panting like he actually cares about being here on time - and, as she was rather prone to doing, immediately made a decision about him based on that millisecond of observation. Absolutely not. And yet, the class was starting, and everyone else seemed to have found their seats already. She heaved an annoyed sigh, then used the two inches of block heel on the bottom of her right shoe to kick the chair a short distance back away from the table. "Fine," she muttered under her breath, turning her gaze away from him. He could sit down or not; watch and see if she'd care. (She would not.) A bit of the lesson progressing would reveal that today they'd actually repot Mandrakes for the first time. As if being without her mates wasn't bad enough, now she'd have to be visible wearing earmuffs in public. Gag. Kahira pulled her fuzzy pair from her bag, gingerly pinching the band between two darkly-painted nails - at least they were emerald green, one of her favourite colours. Smoothing out a mat that had popped up in the fluff along one side, she cast a sideways glance at her seatmate for the first time all class. "Don't tell me you'll need to use the professor's," she said, darkly, perhaps giving the same impression as if he had been needing to eat garbage. |
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@Morgan Faughn
| kahira valerian second gen | _____________________ | shop | ___________________ |
Saving Seats
Morgan's eyes watched the chair move slightly back from the table as the redheaded girl kicked it and very seemingly reluctantly agreed to let him sit. His attention moved back to her for a moment about to thank her despite the less than welcoming reaction she had given but the girl had seemingly already turned her attention away, very much giving the impression that she could care less. Okay, fair enough, he thought, simply nodding slightly and pushing the chair slightly closer back to the table so he could at least reach it before sitting down.
It wasn't an unfamiliar situation for him, people being indifferent or outright ignoring him so it didn't particularly bother him that the girl beside him was perhaps a bit... cold. At the very least, the girl had agreed to let him sit and had saved him the embarrassment of having to try and find somewhere else to sit. Positivity, try to be positive and look at the bright side is always what his father would say and... well Morgan wasn't always the best at it but he was certainly trying.
Focusing back, he carefully began taking his journal that was filled with notes for class out of his bag and placed it on the table, a few sticky notes he had brought from home sticking out brightly from between some of the pages. He continued looking through his bag for the rest of his supplies when he heard the redhead speak again with a sound of disdain possibly as she asked if he would need to use something belonging to the professor.
Confused for a moment, his attention turned back to the girl beside him as he saw her holding a pair of earmuffs and realized she had been asking if he would have to borrow one of the pairs that the professor had for those who needed them. He tilted his head slightly as he observed her and the way she held her own earmuffs as though they were some kind of slimy creature that might try and bite her. He then looked at the actual earmuffs themselves and it clicked slightly in his head why her tone had sounded the way it did as he thought she was probably against the idea of using old, possibly used earmuffs that weren't her very own as those earmuffs looked kind of fancy, possibly expensive. They were definitely fancier and more expensive than any of the clothes or earmuffs he had ever owned, which wasn't hard as most of the things he owned were hand-me-downs but nonetheless. He could, of course, be wrong but just looking at her, her clothes, and accessories made him think he was probably on the right track.
"I mean yeah I'll probably use one of the pairs the professor has for us. I would have bought a pair when I got my school supplies but I didn't remember seeing it on the list," he responded flatly, looking back in his bag as he continued searching for his supplies, "and besides they're just earmuffs. I'm fine using them as long as they work to protect against the mandrakes. Wouldn't want to pass out or get hurt, right?"
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xx | Having finally looked at him again for more than just a few milliseconds of judgmental staring, Kahira's first impressions were only being confirmed. The dark-haired boy had pulled something unfamiliar out of his bag, a sort of book that seemed to be filled with blank pages or what she assumed to be his scribbled handwriting instead of printed text. Small scraps of brightly-coloured parchment stuck out at strange angles off the page. Whatever this invention was, it was foreign to her, and that meant it was likely lesser. What had ever happened to a simple scroll of parchment for note-taking? "And what is that?" she added on to her previous question about the earmuffs, flicking one finger lazily in the direction of the Muggle notebook. Perhaps he'd have a satisfying answer... but she doubted it. Of course, he could have strange note-taking materials but not know that he needed to bring his own earmuffs. Kahira eyed the pile of earmuffs on the central table disdainfully, one corner of her lip curling up in disgust; she could only imagine how many students had worn the matted, faded things over the years, mashing them over their ears and into their hair. She could practically hear the wax and lice on them, and she wouldn't be touching any of the shared earmuffs with a ten-metre pole. "Of course you would. They're over there." Again, a dark nail flicked in the pile's direction as she looked him up and down. "Do yourself a favour... and don't get orange." Kahira wasn't usually one to offer her fashion advice for free, but she could simply not be seen interacting in public with a style disaster, and this boy was already edging dangerously close to that label just with his standard existence. An eye roll accompanied the boy's response about not wanting to pass out or get hurt. "Don't be ridiculous. They can't hurt you until they're fully grown," she said dismissively, folding one leg over the other and leaning back slightly in her chair. "But while you're up, you may as well fetch the one we need to repot. I won't be handling dragon dung with this manicure, thank you very much." |
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@Morgan Faughn
Last edited by Kahira Valerian on 5 Aug 2026, 18:20, edited 1 time in total.
| kahira valerian second gen | _____________________ | shop | ___________________ |
Saving Seats
Confused was a good way to describe Morgan in this general moment as he listened to the redhead next him talk in that rather dismissive, almost snarky tone that she seemed to have, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he observed her. She seemed appalled at the idea of him using the class provided earmuffs and also for some strange reason maybe didn't know what a journal was, and Morgan really just didn't know what to think of this girl.
His green eyes moved towards the direction of where the pile of earmuffs laid as well as towards where the potted mandrakes where before returning his gaze towards the redhead. He pointed at his journal and said rather flatly, "Well this is a journal... for notetaking and also contains sticky notes for more... organization. It's where I keep my notes together for class." He pushes his chair back slightly and stands, turning to go grab a pair of earmuffs and he supposed their potted mandrake, "Maybe if you had a journal for notetaking you would remember that while the baby mandrakes can't outright kill us, they can knock us out with their cries if we weren't protecting ourselves with the earmuffs which could then lead to us to getting hurt."
Perhaps he had come across as a bit more passive-aggressive than he had meant to but, at the same time, he felt as though he was only matching the redhead's energy. Plus, he didn't exactly want her to not realize the dangers that came with baby mandrakes even if they would just knock them out. He had heard one too many stories from his mother about people ending up at the hospital because they had passed out, hit their heads, and then seriously injured themselves. He, personally, didn't want to have that experience and also wished to avoid seeing other people experience such a thing.
With a slight sigh, he grabbed a pair of rather ruffled earmuffs that might have been a brighter color at one point but had faded to a sort of greyish-blue before carefully picking up the potted baby mandrake they would require. He was very gentle, ensuring not to jostle the poor thing too much, not minding as a bit of the dirt got on his hands, before carefully making his way back to the table where he prepared to face the redheaded wrath that seemed to be who he would unfortunately be paired with for the rest of class.
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xx | A 'jer-nil'? Kahira had certainly never heard of one of those, and it began to dawn on her - complete with a slow, horrifying realisation, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly - that perhaps this unfortunate partnership had not just landed her with a pureblood with horrid fashion sense, but rather, someone even worse. Someone culturally different. Genetically different. There were several ways to sniff out an impostor, and though the redhead's sense of smell was excellent and honed to an extent that only a future potioneer would have wanted, none of them involved her nose. Use of unfamiliar technology was certainly one of these important manners... as was lack of decent fashion sense, among others, both of which the dark-haired boy in front of her was giving off like a glowing non-magical beacon. Most importantly, however, was name recognition. Someone who had been in the wizarding world for longer than a few months - specifically, an entire life - would react to Valerian much in the same way as Muggles did to Rockefeller. And so, she mostly ignored the boy's jab about not taking notes or knowing about young Mandrakes. She knew about them full well, of course. "There's no need to write anything down in a practical," she sniffed, not able to help herself on responding at least a little. "And of course I'm most aware of that. That's why I came prepared," swinging her earmuffs on one finger lazily in the boy's direction. "A Valerian always comes prepared." There it was - the gauntlet, thrown down on the dirt-covered table between them. Kahira watched the boy's face closely, looking for any signs of recognition (or awe, if he had any sense at all). If he lacked the proper respect and deference for her family name, then she would know if this bloke was tolerable... or if he was to be avoided and downtrodden for the rest of their Hogwarts career. |
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@Morgan Faughn
| kahira valerian second gen | _____________________ | shop | ___________________ |
Saving Seats
Feeling as though he was just being dug deeper, and deeper into a hole, as the red-headed girl said 'Valerian" he had a sinking suspicion that that was suppose to hold some weight. Of course, it didn't for Morgan and he just looked at her, eyebrows knitting together slightly in confusion. The way she said it, he was going to assume it was very likely her last name and not just the plant as bringing up the plant would make no sense in this context.
He had quickly come to learn in his short time at Hogwarts, and just within the magical world, was that people from certain fully magical families, Pureblood is what they called them he was pretty sure, took their last names and weight of their last names very seriously as they were fully magical and many looked down upon those who weren't. He was still getting used to trying to remember all the specific terms people used. Of course, there were a number of students and people who were from pureblood families who didn't hold themselves up as 'superior' but, if his suspicions were correct and he was pretty sure they were, he was pretty sure this girl was probably wielding her name as someone who came from one of those families and she definitely thought she held some level of importance.
Setting the mandrake pot on the table in front of them, he turned to look at the girl again, debating on how to respond. Perhaps he shouldn't have said what he was about to say, very likely digging his own grave, but the words left his mouth, "Right... I assume that's your last name and you are not talking about the plant. I am also going to assume that it usually holds some weight from the way you talk but... it really doesn't mean anything to me. I mean I could do that to with my last name. A Faughn always takes notes but, I mean, using a last name to prove a point seems kind of old-fashioned."
The young Hufflepuff was just adding more nails to the coffin, he could often accidently be blunt with his words but right now it would probably be a lie if he said he being wasn't purposefully being blunt. Morgan usually kept to himself, preferring not to just avoid confrontation or people who annoyed him slightly. At the same time, however, there were times where he could have a bit more of a backbone than many might believe.
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xx | The confused look on the dark-haired boy's face when Kahira said her surname was enough for the ginger girl's suspicions to be confirmed. That was how most Muggle-borns (or the occasional clueless half-blood) reacted to a name-drop of such importance - like they had been presented with a riddle to which they most certainly did not know the answer. She pursed her lips together, making a mental note to avoid this weird little fellow in any of their future shared classes. Working with a Mudblood once was bad enough... if she had to do so twice, he'd probably end up having to clean vomit off those scuffed shoes. What happened next, though, as the boy set the pot on the table and turned to her, was unlike any reaction she'd ever received from a Mudblood. (Granted, she hadn't spoken to very many of them, but still. Unexpected.) Kahira's glossed lips dropped open into a small, perfect O as he had the absolute nerve to speak to her like that. Sure, some magical folks had decided to respond to her obvious betterness with the sarcasm and frustration that clearly just stemmed from never being able to measure up to her (@Jeremy Slater, for one), but never someone who was so obviously lesser. A shocked laugh, bitter and sharp, bubbled up from her throat. "If it doesn't hold weight with you," she retorted, curtly, "I pity the rude awakening you are going to have. I presume you have been in the wizarding world, what? Two weeks?" Dark eyes raked him harshly up and down, her lips curling into an evil sneer. "I would wish you the best of luck with your acclimation, but... I don't think anything I could do would help." She leaned back in her chair, crossing her ankles demurely, and took a small nail file from her bag, lazily fixing the corner of one perfectly polished index finger. For good measure, she pushed her earmuffs up over her curly pigtails, both to save herself from being knocked unconscious (though perhaps that would have been an excellent way to get out of this class) and also to prove very clear to this pretentious Faughn pretender that she was, in fact, done with listening to his irritating, bothersome little voice. |
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@Morgan Faughn
| kahira valerian second gen | _____________________ | shop | ___________________ |
Saving Seats
Eyebrows furrowing slightly again, Morgan had come to the decision that he really did not like this girl. It wasn't like he wasn't used to people being a bit rude or outright cold to him but this girl, she was something else entirely. A clear sense of superiority and a definite belief that she was actually better that people, it was... insufferable. He had always been told growing up not to judge a book by its cover and you can't always judge off one just one interaction, but he was pretty sure more interactions with this girl were not going to change his opinion on her much.
He held his tongue as the red-head spoke, knowing he would only put more nails in the coffin if he wasn't careful and, at this point, really wanted to avoid interacting with her. Maybe you need a wake-up call, he thought to himself, green eyes narrowing as he watched the girl lean back and go on to ignore him, effectively ending their conversation for now, which was honestly probably for the best.
Putting his own earmuffs on, he took a deep breath to calm himself as he sits back in his own chair and begins flipping to his notes on mandrakes within his journal. There was no point in staying annoyed or putting his energy towards focusing on the red-head, not when he could put his focus on a class he enjoyed and was good at. Of course, they were obviously going to have to work together possibly at some point for class but there was no point in dwelling on it. Despite this however, he couldn't help but slightly mumble under his breath, "You probably won't even touch the dirt or plants so I don't think I'm going to be the one who needs help 'acclimating' or whatever... I might be new to this but at least I'm willing to put in the work." Perhaps it was unfair, making the assumption that she wouldn't do anything but given the interactions, it was sort of hard to believe that she probably would. Pushing his dark hair back from his face slightly, he took a another breath. It was going to be a long class...
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