7 Apr 2018, 07:56
Nostalgia
If one wasn't looking carefully at the tiny golden-haired woman walking through the halls, they might of mistaken her for seventh year. But once one got close enough to really see her, the state of her dirt stained robes and the Augurey on her shoulder gave her away as a professor, not a student of Hogwarts. She wasn't in a particular classroom or corridor though, just wandering. It had been years since Sorrel had traveled the upper halls of Hogwarts, and having a free day, she had decided to explore the halls of Hogwarts.
The woman was lost in thought, tracing the elegant patterns on the paintings, to the dismay of the moving inhabitants. Sorrel didn't seem to notice their complaints though, simply taking a step away from the wall and continuing to walk through the halls. It was hard to believe that she had spent 3 miserable years at this airy castle, and was now back to teach. It was almost unbearable, but yet there was something strangely nostalgic about the halls of the Scottish Castle. Sorrel Wright had spent her childhood in these halls, dreaming about the day she could leave and travel the world. Now a seasoned traveler, she had found herself back at the castle of childhood terrors and childhood dreams alike.
Not really knowing where she was going, Sorrel found herself growing more and more agitated. These damn moving stairs! They were so impractical. If Sorrel was the Headmaster, she would get rid of all the moving stairs and replace them with good old fashioned not moving stairs. The stairway she was on currently seemed to be moving to yet another tower.
Another thing Sorrel would change if she was headmaster. She would make it so the castle was easier to walk around. Honestly, not being allowed to use apperation was such an inconvenience to the herbology professor, who wished nothing more than to be able to apperate in and out of the castle. Instead she had to walk everywhere. At least she was getting in a daily workout. Not that she wanted one though.
The stairway deposited the little professor off at yet another flight of stairs. This stairway was long and windy, leading up to a tiny trap door. Sorrel's interest was peaked immediately. In her three years at hogwarts, never had she seen the little trap door. Had it always been there, or had she simply not gone up to look? Her interest was diminished by the fact she would have to walk up so many stairs, but gritting her teeth, Sorrel started the ascent up the stairs.
The stairs were bloody miserable. Just like Sorrel knew they would be. Gritting her teeth, Sorrel climbed up the stairs. Rhys, on the woman's shoulder, cawed at her to go faster. "Honestly, you try walking up these stairs and see how you do. Feather brain." Sorrel replied to her bird's caw, scowl depending as she trucked up the final flight of stairs. Sorrel's comment earned her a faint peck on the shoulder from Rhys, who then started pruning his feathers like nothing had happened.
Chuckling at her bird's antics, Sorrel finished climbing the stairs. Panting heavily, she paused to catch her breath before opening the trap door. She climbed up, and stared at the room with an expression of interest and exhaustion.
At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside the room, which wasn't as small as Sorrel expected it to be. All the tables were surrounded by what looked to be armchairs, and the windows were covered by dark red curtains. It was stiflingly warm, but that didn't bother Sorrel. She had gotten used to the heat, after spending much of her school years in Brazil. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with an array of objects used in divination and an even larger array of teacups. So many teacups. Sorrel had never liked tea, and now she was fairly certain that whoever used this room really did love tea.
It dawned on her that the room was most likely used for teaching Divination, or for a Divination club. As she searched the room, wondering what else could be around in the stifling hot room, which reminded Sorrel of her grandmother's living room, she spotted a brown haired woman and a fluffy white cat. The woman looked to be busy doing something, so Sorrel edged forward to see what the woman was so focused on.
The woman was lost in thought, tracing the elegant patterns on the paintings, to the dismay of the moving inhabitants. Sorrel didn't seem to notice their complaints though, simply taking a step away from the wall and continuing to walk through the halls. It was hard to believe that she had spent 3 miserable years at this airy castle, and was now back to teach. It was almost unbearable, but yet there was something strangely nostalgic about the halls of the Scottish Castle. Sorrel Wright had spent her childhood in these halls, dreaming about the day she could leave and travel the world. Now a seasoned traveler, she had found herself back at the castle of childhood terrors and childhood dreams alike.
Not really knowing where she was going, Sorrel found herself growing more and more agitated. These damn moving stairs! They were so impractical. If Sorrel was the Headmaster, she would get rid of all the moving stairs and replace them with good old fashioned not moving stairs. The stairway she was on currently seemed to be moving to yet another tower.
Another thing Sorrel would change if she was headmaster. She would make it so the castle was easier to walk around. Honestly, not being allowed to use apperation was such an inconvenience to the herbology professor, who wished nothing more than to be able to apperate in and out of the castle. Instead she had to walk everywhere. At least she was getting in a daily workout. Not that she wanted one though.
The stairway deposited the little professor off at yet another flight of stairs. This stairway was long and windy, leading up to a tiny trap door. Sorrel's interest was peaked immediately. In her three years at hogwarts, never had she seen the little trap door. Had it always been there, or had she simply not gone up to look? Her interest was diminished by the fact she would have to walk up so many stairs, but gritting her teeth, Sorrel started the ascent up the stairs.
The stairs were bloody miserable. Just like Sorrel knew they would be. Gritting her teeth, Sorrel climbed up the stairs. Rhys, on the woman's shoulder, cawed at her to go faster. "Honestly, you try walking up these stairs and see how you do. Feather brain." Sorrel replied to her bird's caw, scowl depending as she trucked up the final flight of stairs. Sorrel's comment earned her a faint peck on the shoulder from Rhys, who then started pruning his feathers like nothing had happened.
Chuckling at her bird's antics, Sorrel finished climbing the stairs. Panting heavily, she paused to catch her breath before opening the trap door. She climbed up, and stared at the room with an expression of interest and exhaustion.
At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside the room, which wasn't as small as Sorrel expected it to be. All the tables were surrounded by what looked to be armchairs, and the windows were covered by dark red curtains. It was stiflingly warm, but that didn't bother Sorrel. She had gotten used to the heat, after spending much of her school years in Brazil. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with an array of objects used in divination and an even larger array of teacups. So many teacups. Sorrel had never liked tea, and now she was fairly certain that whoever used this room really did love tea.
It dawned on her that the room was most likely used for teaching Divination, or for a Divination club. As she searched the room, wondering what else could be around in the stifling hot room, which reminded Sorrel of her grandmother's living room, she spotted a brown haired woman and a fluffy white cat. The woman looked to be busy doing something, so Sorrel edged forward to see what the woman was so focused on.
Sorrel Wright
hopeless chocolate addict & head of gryffindor house. tarapoto tree-skimmers fan.
7 Apr 2018, 19:16
Nostalgia
The day had been planned out since two days ago. Matilda would have a day off from students, and so she planned to use it to scry something from the plenty of resources she kept in her classroom, but so far, fortunes had been a little.. off. There was plenty of misfortune, and it put her off. She huffed as the tarot cards just repeated the same things she had been getting the whole time. And all of it was out of her control. She put the cards to the side, bringing her hands up to rub away at her eyes.
At first glance, one could say that the mademoiselle looked tired. She had faint bags under her eyes from staying up a little later than she should last night, causing her to sleep for less hours, and her normally straightened hair was a mess of waves, tied up into a loose bun. She turned from the table in front of her to look at a white ball of fluff - Jasmine, her cat. The two had been partners in crime since Matilda's seventh year at Beauxbatons, and have been basically inseparable since. Though recently, Jasmine has been annoyed with the brunette woman for not allowing her out of the classroom. It was for her own safety, though. God forbid someone hurt one of Matilda's most prized possessions.
The next, and unfortunately last, method the woman could try for the time being was crystal-gazing. She had to go into her office to grab her personal crystal ball, and brought it out to the table she had been stationed at beforehand. Hopefully, this would give her something good. If anything at all. Sometimes, the crystal liked to cloud the visions she got out of it. It wasn't the best outcome, obviously, and she dreaded the chance. Yet, she sat down in her seat again, pulling the crystal ball closer to her. The room had been darkened by the thick curtains covering the windows, meaning that it would be prime scrying time.
Before she could begin, she heard someone walking up behind her. She turned her head to look behind her, seeing that Jasmine had already done the same. There, in front of them, was a short woman with golden blonde hair. Matilda was able to recognize her as the new Herbology professor. Why Professor Trollope had been relieved of her position was unknown to the Divination professor, but it was an interesting event that the new professor would stumble into the Divination classroom of all places.
Matilda turned her body towards the woman, a smile gracing her lips. When she spoke, the French accent was heavily laced through each syllable, "Hello! I do not think we have met," She rose from her seat then, walking the rest of the distance between her and the other professor. Crystal-gazing could wait for now. There was someone in Matilda's company, and she was never anything short of a good hostess. "I am Matilda, and what should I call you?"
To say her English was a little off was pretty accurate, but to be fair she had been out of practice for a while now. She was still getting into the swing of speaking the language constantly throughout everyday, even seven months into getting settled in. She gestured to the other seat at the table, "Would you like to have a seat? I can get tea and.. biscuits?" She offered, not really sure as to what she could offer. She didn't speak with a lot of people often. There was only ever really Ackerley, and even then those times were limited. The idea of socializing was a little foreign to her in this form.
At first glance, one could say that the mademoiselle looked tired. She had faint bags under her eyes from staying up a little later than she should last night, causing her to sleep for less hours, and her normally straightened hair was a mess of waves, tied up into a loose bun. She turned from the table in front of her to look at a white ball of fluff - Jasmine, her cat. The two had been partners in crime since Matilda's seventh year at Beauxbatons, and have been basically inseparable since. Though recently, Jasmine has been annoyed with the brunette woman for not allowing her out of the classroom. It was for her own safety, though. God forbid someone hurt one of Matilda's most prized possessions.
The next, and unfortunately last, method the woman could try for the time being was crystal-gazing. She had to go into her office to grab her personal crystal ball, and brought it out to the table she had been stationed at beforehand. Hopefully, this would give her something good. If anything at all. Sometimes, the crystal liked to cloud the visions she got out of it. It wasn't the best outcome, obviously, and she dreaded the chance. Yet, she sat down in her seat again, pulling the crystal ball closer to her. The room had been darkened by the thick curtains covering the windows, meaning that it would be prime scrying time.
Before she could begin, she heard someone walking up behind her. She turned her head to look behind her, seeing that Jasmine had already done the same. There, in front of them, was a short woman with golden blonde hair. Matilda was able to recognize her as the new Herbology professor. Why Professor Trollope had been relieved of her position was unknown to the Divination professor, but it was an interesting event that the new professor would stumble into the Divination classroom of all places.
Matilda turned her body towards the woman, a smile gracing her lips. When she spoke, the French accent was heavily laced through each syllable, "Hello! I do not think we have met," She rose from her seat then, walking the rest of the distance between her and the other professor. Crystal-gazing could wait for now. There was someone in Matilda's company, and she was never anything short of a good hostess. "I am Matilda, and what should I call you?"
To say her English was a little off was pretty accurate, but to be fair she had been out of practice for a while now. She was still getting into the swing of speaking the language constantly throughout everyday, even seven months into getting settled in. She gestured to the other seat at the table, "Would you like to have a seat? I can get tea and.. biscuits?" She offered, not really sure as to what she could offer. She didn't speak with a lot of people often. There was only ever really Ackerley, and even then those times were limited. The idea of socializing was a little foreign to her in this form.
- 𝑀𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓁𝒹𝒶 𝐵𝒶𝓇𝓇𝑜𝓌𝓈, 𝒟𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓇.
7 Apr 2018, 21:30
Nostalgia
The woman, who Sorrel was faintly certain was named Matilda or Madeleine turned around to stare at Sorrel, along with the ball of fluff by her side. Sorrel offered a weak smile at the woman, not happy to have been caught snooping. The other professor didn't seem to mind though, as she smiled and introduced herself as Matilda. Honestly, Sorrel had just wanted to see what the woman was doing, and then leave. She didn't feel like striking up a conversation with another professor, but now it was too late to run down the stairs screaming.
It was painfully obvious that the other woman wasn't English. Her heavy french accent, and difficulty with the English words gave her away as French. Not that Sorrel minded in the slightest. In her years traveling the world, Sorrel had gotten used to heavy accents and different languages, and Matilda's accent wasn't the worse one she had heard. A man in Russia had the pleasure of that particular honor, as Sorrel couldn't even tell what he was saying half the time.
"I'm Sorrel, and no, I don't believe we have met before." the herbology professor replied, as the other woman came closer to her. Once Matilda was closer, it was easy to see that she was exhausted. Her hair was a wreak, and there were bags under her eyes reminiscent of the ones on Sorrel's face as well. Teaching was a difficult job, even though Sorrel was new to it. She had spend many sleepless nights pouring over her predecessor Edwina's lesson plans, and revising them. If it was up to Sorrel, she would have the little first years learning about all the dangerous plants she owned, but of course, she couldn't damage the little things. Without losing her job, although, it was always a backup plan to have a dramatic plant vs child battle. If she was to get fired, she would do it style. By making 11 year old children fight Snargaluffs.
There was a pause as Matilda offered tea and another longer pause before she offered biscuits. Sorrel was not a fan of tea, having discovered coffee in Brazil and America, and loving it instantly. Of course, she was British though, and to decline tea was basically as bad as killing the queen yourself. At least, that was the general option of everyone British Sorrel had conversed with in recent years. Maybe french people were less crazy about tea.
"Tea and biscuits sounds lovely." Sorrel declared, in her usual quiet voice.
It was painfully obvious that the other woman wasn't English. Her heavy french accent, and difficulty with the English words gave her away as French. Not that Sorrel minded in the slightest. In her years traveling the world, Sorrel had gotten used to heavy accents and different languages, and Matilda's accent wasn't the worse one she had heard. A man in Russia had the pleasure of that particular honor, as Sorrel couldn't even tell what he was saying half the time.
"I'm Sorrel, and no, I don't believe we have met before." the herbology professor replied, as the other woman came closer to her. Once Matilda was closer, it was easy to see that she was exhausted. Her hair was a wreak, and there were bags under her eyes reminiscent of the ones on Sorrel's face as well. Teaching was a difficult job, even though Sorrel was new to it. She had spend many sleepless nights pouring over her predecessor Edwina's lesson plans, and revising them. If it was up to Sorrel, she would have the little first years learning about all the dangerous plants she owned, but of course, she couldn't damage the little things. Without losing her job, although, it was always a backup plan to have a dramatic plant vs child battle. If she was to get fired, she would do it style. By making 11 year old children fight Snargaluffs.
There was a pause as Matilda offered tea and another longer pause before she offered biscuits. Sorrel was not a fan of tea, having discovered coffee in Brazil and America, and loving it instantly. Of course, she was British though, and to decline tea was basically as bad as killing the queen yourself. At least, that was the general option of everyone British Sorrel had conversed with in recent years. Maybe french people were less crazy about tea.
"Tea and biscuits sounds lovely." Sorrel declared, in her usual quiet voice.
Sorrel Wright
hopeless chocolate addict & head of gryffindor house. tarapoto tree-skimmers fan.
9 Apr 2018, 20:06
Nostalgia
The appearance of the Herbology professor reminded the Beauxbatons alumni of the tale of La Belle aux cheveux d'or. Or, in English, The Beauty With Golden Hair. Another name the story went by was The Story of Pretty Goldilocks. It was a story about a beautiful princess with golden blonde hair, in which a neighbouring king fell in love with her, simply by the description of her appearance. When he had sent an ambassador to propose to Pretty Goldilocks, he was disappointed to hear that she had declined the offer, insisting that she did not want to be married yet. A young courtier and royal favorite, named Charming, told his friends that if he had gone, she would have accepted, and the king threw him in prison. When the king allowed a hearing, Charming said that he would have drawn such a picture of the king as to make him irresistible to her, and the king decided to send him. On the way, Charming helped a carp that was out of water, a raven being chased by an eagle, and an owl caught in a net; each one promised to help him.
In the end, Pretty Goldilocks had been convinced to marry the king. Though, Charming's enemies were quick to inform the king that Pretty Goldilocks was rather fond of Charming, and that he should be jealous. The king threw Charming in the tower, and accidentally rubbed a potion on his face - which he thought had been from the Fountain of Health and Beauty - that was actually a poison used to execute nobles, by rubbing it on their face. Needless to say, he had passed away, and Pretty Goldilocks released Charming from the tower, marrying him instead like she had wanted all along.
Matilda didn't have to guess to know that Sorrel wasn't close to being Pretty Goldilocks, but seeing as that was the French woman's favourite story her mother had read her before bedtime, it was easy to be reminded of it. A fond smile occupied the brunette's face, and she snapped back into reality once the other woman had agreed to tea and biscuits. "Oh, right!" Matilda muttered, her cheeks tinting a hue of pink. She used her wand to cast accio on the teacups and little plates, placing them in front of the two professors. She would have to go in her office to retrieve the tea she had brewed earlier, though. She had already taught tessomancy this year, and there was no real reason for her to brew tea. Not to mention, she had already practiced that form of Divination today.
She came back from her office mere moments later, with a porcelain teapot in hand. It was still steaming slightly from the spout, and she had to steady the lid to make it stop moving around in its spot, making clinking noises. Pouring the tea was easy, and Matilda was quite efficient at it. After years of her family giving her etiquette lessons, she knew just about anything now. She placed the teapot inbetween the two ladies before sitting back down in her spot, lifting her own teacup to her lips. She sipped at the hot liquid, her lips and tongue well-used to the burning by now. She hadn't ever added sugar or cream to her tea, either. But she was sure that she had some around here somewhere if Sorrel had ended up wanting some.
"How are you getting used to the school?" The woman wondered, just as her teacup came back in contact with the china plate that served as its saucer. She then noticed that she had forgotten biscuits - how? She used her wand again, reluctantly casting accio once again. In seconds, a plate of homemade cookies sat itself next to the teapot. Matilda had made them in the kitchens last night, and left them out on her desk by mistake. It was better to finish them sooner rather than later, or else the freshness would most likely fade. "Everything has been easy for you so far, oui?"
She had a knack for making sure everyone was comfortable in their environment. And if she could, Matilda would help with anything she could. She may not know much about Herbology, but she could try. She sipped at her tea again, silently hoping that Sorrel wouldn't actually need any assistance. Making a fool of herself, trying to figure out which plant is which, would be rather embarrassing for the French girl, and she'd rather not drown in said embarrassment.
In the end, Pretty Goldilocks had been convinced to marry the king. Though, Charming's enemies were quick to inform the king that Pretty Goldilocks was rather fond of Charming, and that he should be jealous. The king threw Charming in the tower, and accidentally rubbed a potion on his face - which he thought had been from the Fountain of Health and Beauty - that was actually a poison used to execute nobles, by rubbing it on their face. Needless to say, he had passed away, and Pretty Goldilocks released Charming from the tower, marrying him instead like she had wanted all along.
Matilda didn't have to guess to know that Sorrel wasn't close to being Pretty Goldilocks, but seeing as that was the French woman's favourite story her mother had read her before bedtime, it was easy to be reminded of it. A fond smile occupied the brunette's face, and she snapped back into reality once the other woman had agreed to tea and biscuits. "Oh, right!" Matilda muttered, her cheeks tinting a hue of pink. She used her wand to cast accio on the teacups and little plates, placing them in front of the two professors. She would have to go in her office to retrieve the tea she had brewed earlier, though. She had already taught tessomancy this year, and there was no real reason for her to brew tea. Not to mention, she had already practiced that form of Divination today.
She came back from her office mere moments later, with a porcelain teapot in hand. It was still steaming slightly from the spout, and she had to steady the lid to make it stop moving around in its spot, making clinking noises. Pouring the tea was easy, and Matilda was quite efficient at it. After years of her family giving her etiquette lessons, she knew just about anything now. She placed the teapot inbetween the two ladies before sitting back down in her spot, lifting her own teacup to her lips. She sipped at the hot liquid, her lips and tongue well-used to the burning by now. She hadn't ever added sugar or cream to her tea, either. But she was sure that she had some around here somewhere if Sorrel had ended up wanting some.
"How are you getting used to the school?" The woman wondered, just as her teacup came back in contact with the china plate that served as its saucer. She then noticed that she had forgotten biscuits - how? She used her wand again, reluctantly casting accio once again. In seconds, a plate of homemade cookies sat itself next to the teapot. Matilda had made them in the kitchens last night, and left them out on her desk by mistake. It was better to finish them sooner rather than later, or else the freshness would most likely fade. "Everything has been easy for you so far, oui?"
She had a knack for making sure everyone was comfortable in their environment. And if she could, Matilda would help with anything she could. She may not know much about Herbology, but she could try. She sipped at her tea again, silently hoping that Sorrel wouldn't actually need any assistance. Making a fool of herself, trying to figure out which plant is which, would be rather embarrassing for the French girl, and she'd rather not drown in said embarrassment.
- 𝑀𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓁𝒹𝒶 𝐵𝒶𝓇𝓇𝑜𝓌𝓈, 𝒟𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓇.
10 Apr 2018, 06:00
Nostalgia
The other professor seemed deep in thought. Deep enough that she had forgotten the biscuits. In other circumstances Sorrel might of laughed at the woman's forgetfulness, but she was too shy too. It wasn't every day you accidentally stepped into the room of another professor, hoping to explore your childhood haunts, only to get caught by said-professor and invited to tea.
Sorrel was glad the large array of teacups was being put into use, as she watched Matilda set down cute little teacups and plates. Smiling slightly at the woman's retreating back, Sorrel picked up the little teacup and matching plates with a steady hand, that was covered in a slight bit of dirt.
Regretting not cleaning up before coming to explore the castle, Sorrel watched the dirt on her fingers rub off onto the pristine white teacup. Wincing slightly at the dirt, Sorrel attempted to rub it off. Pretty soon, there was dirt all over the mug. Looking behind her to make sure Matilda wasn't in the room yet, Sorrel quickly pulled out her wand and muttered the incantation to clean objects. "Tergeo" Sorrel watched the dirt vanish off the cup and into thin air.
Just in time. A minute after Sorrel had cleaned up the cup, Matilda burst into the room carrying a tea kettle in her hands with grace and ease. The other professor glided over to Sorrel, pouring the tea with a practiced hand, that Sorrel would never be able to replicate, even if she wanted too. The other professor started to drink her tea, but Sorrel first held the cup in her hands, savoring the unexpected warmth, even though the room was warm already.
Finally, Sorrel took a sip of the steaming drink. It wasn't that bad, but Sorrel still would of preferred coffee. She relished the burning sensation on her tongue, and the favour of the tea. Still craving coffee though, Sorrel set down the teacup on the little saucer.
She smiled slightly at the other professor, running a hand through her hair. "The castle is lovely, I guess. I really do miss Castelobruxo," Sorrel studied Matilda, hoping she would know what the Brazilian school of magic was. Deciding that the French woman didn't know what the school was, Sorrel added, "The Brazilian school of Magizoology and Herbology. I went there after my third year at Hogwarts. Honestly, I never thought I would come back here but then Rosemary offered me the position.. ." Sorrel droned off, not wanting to admit her deep dislike of the British school and it's students to a professor who might of felt a passion for the school.
Putting her cup back up to her mouth, Sorrel took another sip as Matilda asked if things had been easy so far. She set the cup down slowly, having to think of an answer. Things had been easy, if not dull and tiresome. "They've been easy, but geez, some of these students don't know anything about Herbology!" Shaking her head in mock disappointment, Sorrel smiled slightly. The smile of a shy professor, trying her best to not seem as anti-social and weird as she really was.
Sorrel was glad the large array of teacups was being put into use, as she watched Matilda set down cute little teacups and plates. Smiling slightly at the woman's retreating back, Sorrel picked up the little teacup and matching plates with a steady hand, that was covered in a slight bit of dirt.
Regretting not cleaning up before coming to explore the castle, Sorrel watched the dirt on her fingers rub off onto the pristine white teacup. Wincing slightly at the dirt, Sorrel attempted to rub it off. Pretty soon, there was dirt all over the mug. Looking behind her to make sure Matilda wasn't in the room yet, Sorrel quickly pulled out her wand and muttered the incantation to clean objects. "Tergeo" Sorrel watched the dirt vanish off the cup and into thin air.
Just in time. A minute after Sorrel had cleaned up the cup, Matilda burst into the room carrying a tea kettle in her hands with grace and ease. The other professor glided over to Sorrel, pouring the tea with a practiced hand, that Sorrel would never be able to replicate, even if she wanted too. The other professor started to drink her tea, but Sorrel first held the cup in her hands, savoring the unexpected warmth, even though the room was warm already.
Finally, Sorrel took a sip of the steaming drink. It wasn't that bad, but Sorrel still would of preferred coffee. She relished the burning sensation on her tongue, and the favour of the tea. Still craving coffee though, Sorrel set down the teacup on the little saucer.
She smiled slightly at the other professor, running a hand through her hair. "The castle is lovely, I guess. I really do miss Castelobruxo," Sorrel studied Matilda, hoping she would know what the Brazilian school of magic was. Deciding that the French woman didn't know what the school was, Sorrel added, "The Brazilian school of Magizoology and Herbology. I went there after my third year at Hogwarts. Honestly, I never thought I would come back here but then Rosemary offered me the position.. ." Sorrel droned off, not wanting to admit her deep dislike of the British school and it's students to a professor who might of felt a passion for the school.
Putting her cup back up to her mouth, Sorrel took another sip as Matilda asked if things had been easy so far. She set the cup down slowly, having to think of an answer. Things had been easy, if not dull and tiresome. "They've been easy, but geez, some of these students don't know anything about Herbology!" Shaking her head in mock disappointment, Sorrel smiled slightly. The smile of a shy professor, trying her best to not seem as anti-social and weird as she really was.
Sorrel Wright
hopeless chocolate addict & head of gryffindor house. tarapoto tree-skimmers fan.