Closed Of Plants and Men pv Dean Saunders

Dean shuffled into the greenhouse, his cheeks rosy from the brisk winter air outside. The warmth that greeted him was a pleasant surprise, enveloping him in a cozy embrace. He liked the greenhouses, not because he was particularly good at Herbology - far from it, actually - but because they were always warm, and the air was filled with the earthy scent of soil and plants. He was bundled up in his Hufflepuff scarf, his breath visible in little puffs as he exhaled.

As he walked in, he noticed someone, a fellow student, standing amidst the rows of plants, examining a bouncing bulb with a look of concentration. Dean wasn’t great at Herbology, but he admired those who seemed to have a knack for it. He often found himself struggling to keep up, forgetting the names of plants or the specific care they required. Yet, he tried his best, determined to improve.

The greenhouse was a serene escape from the hustle and bustle of the castle. The rows of plants and flowers, some swaying gently as if dancing to a silent tune, were a sight to behold. Dean loved how each plant had its unique characteristics, some with vibrant colors, others with peculiar shapes. It was like stepping into a different world, a quiet, peaceful world where time moved slowly.

He watched as the Ravenclaw talked to the plant, asking if it fancied a pint. Dean chuckled softly to himself. "That's one way to talk to them," he said, approaching her with a friendly smile. "Plants are pretty chill, aren't they? They don't care if you're the best wizard or not. They just do their thing." Dean reached out hesitantly to touch the leaves of a nearby plant, his fingers brushing against them gently. He was always a bit cautious around plants, especially after a slight incident with a Venomous Tentacula.

"Herbology's pretty neat, even though I'm not ace at it. It's like... they've got their own little world going on here, and we're just visiting," Dean mused aloud, his gaze wandering over the array of greenery surrounding them. The greenhouse felt like a safe haven, a place where he could escape and be himself, away from the pressures of classes and expectations. It was a place where he could just be Dean, the boy who tried his best, even if his best wasn’t always good enough. "My dad's a pro at it but I don't think I got his genes because it's kind of hard. They have these complicated names and everything...I can't keep up. What you doing?"

⋄ December 5th, 2023, Afternoon | Herbology ⋄
⋄ Interactions: @Dean Saunders | Mentions: None ⋄

𝓢he genuinely hadn't considered that anyone else would be in the greenhouse, which was rather thoughtless of her in retrospect. This was a classroom at the end of the day, even if it didn't always feel like one; of course other students were going to frequent it. She was a little startled by the unfamiliar boy who had approached her, but thankfully had kept a firm grip on the plant's pot. She set the pot back onto the table and turned to address the new arrival.

He seemed friendly, and had a nice smile, so she was optimistic that he hadn't approached her because it was his bulb that she'd been handling. Wouldn't that be embarrassing, to meet a new person and ruining their first impression of her by having to immediately take them to task for being a bad plant parent. Plants need love and nurturing to thrive, sure, but mostly they needed water.

"My step-dad Leo told me that talking to plants helps them grow, since they breathe in reverse. They make oxygen for us to breathe, and in return we give them carbon dioxide. So talking to them is like a little treat." She appraised the bulb in front of them, which she chose to believe looked at least a little perkier than before. "Also, I think they just like it, to be talked to that is. Who doesn't?"

She pondered his statement on plants living their own lives, regardless of their caretakers talent in magic. That's why she's here isn't it? Maybe she'll never be able to effortlessly turn a snail to a teapot, but plants she could learn. She might not be there now, but she could be. Maybe she just wanted to pour her love and effort into something she could physically see the returns of, or maybe it was just soothing to feel like she was good at school again. She was a Ravenclaw for goodness sake, what kind of Ravenclaw was only good at Flying? She wanted to be more, but she wasn't entirely sure that she was, or even could be. Wit beyond measure, supposedly, though she had begun to suspect that if one were to measure her wit, they would find it to be easily assessable with a standard ruler.

That was a lot to tell a strange boy in the greenhouse though.

"Yeah," she replied. "Plants are pretty cool."

At the boy's comment about not getting his dad's "plant genes" she couldn't help but think of Leo, whom she was not related to at all but had taught her all she knew about plants, before she'd arrived at school and had begun learning about the magical variety. Her actual dad had never shown much interest in plants beyond using them in potion-making, so perhaps it had less to do with genetics than the other boy assumed. She had hope that anyone could learn to take care of plants, was relying on it even.

She gestured to the pot that she'd been holding a moment ago. "The soil is way dryer than it should be, so I was thinking about watering it. It isn't my plant, but I doubt it's owner would mind if it means their plant will be healthier. Do you want to help?"

His cheeks rosy, Dean smiled a little wider, fingers intertwined with the flowers of a cute little dancing plant sitting by his side. He was always a little shocked by the amount of plants and varieties that were available here at Hogwarts. He'd often wondered just how much it cost to import such species into their greenhouses, species that didn't seem native to England at all, some probably coming from very, very far away. Ripping his eyes from the pink flowers, he watched his newest friend with a keen eye.

Her robes were blue, the sign of Ravenclaw itself, and her hair was curly like his own. She seemed sure of herself and yet, a little uneased here. Her words flew in and out of his ears and he did his very best to listen. Nodding a little, he shuffled to her side of the table, watching as she fiddled with the pot sitting in front of her. She seemed confident in her work, something he'd found a little hard to do during his classes here. Not that he disliked plants, no, he just didn't understand them well enough. But maybe, speaking to them like she had could do the trick.

His eyes wandered to the pot she gestured at and he grinned. "Yeah, for sure! How do you know it's drier than it should be? Is it about the texture? Or like the look of it?" he hummed, rushing to grab a watering can, his fingers gripping the metallic handle tight as to not drip water everywhere on the floor. He'd seen too many students drop to their backs here and he didn't want to be one of them.

Back by the Ravenclaw's side, he dug his finger into the pot, feeling the soil's dryness. His face lit up. "It's just really dry, like sand! I don't know how I just never thought of that before," he said before pouring a little water into the dirt, watching as it soaked it all up. He paused once more though, his eyes fluttering to his friend. "What happens if I put too much water, though? Won't it drown or something? I'm no good with that, you know? My mom's always like 'yeah you put too much water in my flowers and now they're all droopy' but honestly, they looked like they needed it and they never specify exactly how much you need to pour in either," Dean sighed, his head shaking, left and right.

He plopped the can on the table and held a hand out for the Ravenclaw to shake. "I'm Dean, by the way. Thanks for the lesson, too! You seem to have it together so honestly, I'll take any advice you have on this. My grades are...not great."

⋄ December 5th, 2023, Afternoon | Herbology ⋄
⋄ Interactions: @Dean Saunders | Mentions: None ⋄

𝓢he pushed a stray curl behind her ear, leaving a thoughtless trail of soil behind on her face. She wouldn't be surprised if she was covered in dirt from being in here, as she wasn't the most conscientious of gardeners. Or the most conscientious of people, just in general.

"I guess the texture of it? The soil, I mean. Or more, the uh, dampness of it, I guess. You want it to be noticeably wet to the touch, but not so much water that it's, like, swimming in there."

She appreciated his enthusiasm, nodding in encouragement as he grabbed a watering can. She felt a small amount of anxiety allowing him to take over the task, seeing as he had so readily admitted to not having any sort of clue what he was doing, but the best way to learn something was always to throw yourself right into the thick of it, in her opinion, so she'd just have to let him have a go at it. She appreciated his directness, at the very least. She took a moment to observe the curly haired boy as he mimicked her early actions, burrowing his fingers into the soil to measure it's worth. "Yeah, the soil's way drier than it should be for a growing bulb."

She began listing off the myriad of plant hydration related afflictions to the Hufflepuff boy as he carefully watered the plant. "Yeah, plants can drown when you water them too much, but it doesn't really look like how people drown. Sometimes they'll get these little blisters under their leaves, or their leaves will start to get brown or yellow. Plants can rot, too, and end up with mold in their soil. There's no nurse's office for plants, so it's important to try and take care of them before something goes wrong."

Bex brushed her soil-stained hands on her robes before reaching out to return Dean's handshake. "I'm Bex. I'm a first year." His assumption that she had any sort of grip on her academic life at the moment stung like a yellowjacket, and she instinctively shoved the encroaching thoughts about her ever slipping grades into a box deep, deep down in her brain. And then covered it with other boxes for good measure, just in case. The greenhouse was a sacred, failing marks free zone that she would bodily protect if necessary.

"Flying and Herbology I've got a lock on, if nothing else. So if you've got questions about those, I'm your girl."