Herbology~Afterhours

Kyden moved away from the table with the plants and sat down at an empty table. He dug in his bag and pulled out some paper and began to draw. Soon he was completely sucked into what he was drawing and not paying attention to anything that was happening around him. Every now and again he would sneak a peak at Rhys the bird and then look back at his drawing. He dug in his bag for some colors and then laid them out neatly on the table. After awhile he started to color in what he had drawn. If anybody came to close he quickly hid what he was drawing. He wanted it to be a complete surprise for Professor Wright. He folded up his picture and looked around. Wow he had been drawing for a little bit. He looked around the room spotting Professor Wright. Kyden quickly packed up his bag and stood. He hesitated for a bit trying to decide if he really wanted to give his drawing to the Professor. Finally he made the decision that he would. He then walked across the room to where Professor Wright was standing. He smiled and then spoke. "Um Professor Wright. I drew something for you. I really hope you like it."

A young boy stood at the door of greenhouse one. He slowly scanned around the lush area, his sparkling eyes floating around the room. He soon snapped out of his daze, looking the teacher in the eye. Although he was not very close to the desk, he noticed her expression was both annoyed and... hopeful, maybe? The tall, scrawny child stepped out of the doorway and into the greenhouse, closing the door behind him and straightening the papers that he had slid under his arm.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything, Miss Wright," he said with his thick Irish accent. He quickly strode across the greenhouse, careful not to trip over his own long, spindly legs. Stopping right at the corner of her desk, he took the papers and held them over his chest, showing off the "O" graded homework. "I would like to thank you for this. I never thought I was a perfect student, but your apreciation is helpful to me." The child attempted a smile, but it was quick and emotionless. I need to work on that. He continued, "I'm sorry if I bothered you, but I'm on a mission to get the best grades I possibly can. I am very thankful that you like my work."

The towering boy stood there, his expression mostly blank, but a bit anxious. For a moment he was quiet, as if thinking of anything else to say. Suddenly, his eyes widened. He smacked himself in the skull. "Oh, snap! I completely forgot to introduce myself!" He straightened his posture, put the graded papers under his left arm, and held out his right hand to shake Sorrel's. He'd been working on better introductions with his father before he came here. Hopefully it pays off. "My name is Ferren Jamsone, first year, Hufflepuff."

The boy's accent was thick, but not indistinguishable to the herbology professor, who had heard a variety of strange accents over the years, due to her travels all over the world in the name of herbology. He was sorry for interrupting? How polite of the boy. Sorrel found herself smiling slightly, arms leaning forward on the desk to study the tall boy, and his head of curls, nodding her head along to the ramblings coming out of the hufflepuff's mouth.

He was a new student, and had some interest in herbology, if he had decided to visit her in the middle of her office hours to show an O graded homework, which Sorrel assumed was well deserved, if he had gotten an O. She had received far too many complains about her grading scale, which was absurd to Sorrel. All she wanted was to teach children, but apparently, some of the gryffindor trouble makers couldn't handle getting the grades they deserved.

His smile was mildly alarming, and Sorrel muffled a giggle at the expressionless brooding look he was giving off, before he smacked himself in the head and introduced himself, leaning in for a hand shake. Sorrel actually laughed at that point, shaking her head, before shaking his hand briefly, dropping the contact between them, as quickly as possible. "You haven't bothered me, in the slightest. It's wonderful to see students with an interest in herbology, and I'm sure you deserved the Outstanding.I'm glad you have the willpower to go through with getting the 'best grades possible' and I look forward to seeing your future homework pieces."

Ferren was stunned for a moment after hearing the beautiful giggle that had escaped from the professor's lips. At first, he had thought he did something stupid. Of course, not introducing yourself at the beginning of the conversation is not exactly the way to start. He almost smiled at the thought of what he appeared to be infront of her. Just a ridiculous Hufflepuff. He studied her for a moment, searching the pretty professor's eyes and trying to scan for emotional reactions to him. Quickly he snapped to reality again, realizing he might've made an awkward face when analyzing the woman's reaction to his introduction.

Ferren noticed she had talked about him loving Herbology. "I really do like Herbology, I guess," he began. He quickly scanned the desk, thinking of his reason why. "I grew up around plants and animals and things like that, so I believe that's where this came from. My father taught me all kinds of things about that, along with..." he trailed off for a moment. No time for emotions, Ferren. This is your education. "...I'm sorry. Along with my mother. She, uh, taught me about the magical side of things be for she died." He straightened himself again, tall and proud-looking, just the way his father stood whenever he talked about his beautiful and incredible wife.

Sorrel leaned back in her wooden chair, letting the wood creak against the floor of the classroom, as she folded her arms on the desk, expression of muted interest on her face. The child was interesting enough, but he seemed emotionally distance, focused on grades instead of interaction, which made the conversation seem strange. Why was Ferren coming to talk to Sorrel, when he clearly had troubles upholding conversation, and seemed to shut down, making faces and zoning off.

Sorrel attempted a smile, pressing her lips together, in what was her best attempt at a kindly expression. Nodding her head along to his words, the professor's folded hands tapped against the desk, still clasped together, just bouncing up and down to a rhythm that only she could hear. "I'm glad to hear about a family that taught you about plants and animals. That sounds like a lovely life." Sorrel nodded, encouraging the boy to keep talking, as he paused, a dark look passing over his eyes.

When he mentioned a dead mother, Sorrel's hands unclasped themselves, as she rummaged around in the desk drawer, pulling out a candy bar of Hogsmade chocolate. Standing up, Sorrel pressed the candy bar into the boy's hand, a flustered expression on her face. "I'm sorry for your loss, um, have some chocolate? I can't offer much support, and I know you might not want some boring old teacher to be talking about your personal life with you, but I can always give chocolate.

Ferren flinched when the little chocolate bar was placed into his hand. He stared at it for a moment, searching for answers. He listened to the professor's words, trying to block out the voices that told him it was only pity that she does this. It usually is.

After a moment of deathly silence, Ferren looked up to the young woman. Was she... smiling? Frustrated? Intrigued? Whatever.
He noticed it was still silent and began desperately searching for something to say. What could he say? How would someone react to this?

"Um... I... thank you," the boy mumbled, a soft and quiet tone, almost exposing the "sweetheart" people always said he had. When I was little. He began slowly sliding the chocolate bar into his back pocket. He shifted his graded papers from one arm to the other, using his left hand to "comb" through his head of shiny curls. He couldn't think of anything else to say. What do you say? She... shared with me?

Ferren was confused. Why him? What was so great about Ferren Jamsone? This had never happened, at least not recently. Something inside Ferren was... bubbling? This feeling he didn't like. It was scary and unnatural for him. Was this the "stomach full of butterflies" girls always talk about? He even smiled back at the young woman across the desk, something he never did often. Was this the happiness he's been missing? Ridiculous. It's the professor. It's only a dumb chocolate bar anyway. But it doesn't feel like that, though... "I, um... I don't know what else to say," he stuttered, reaching to rub the back of his neck. A nervous but soft smile spread across his face. He could already feel the anxiety boiling inside of him.

There was nothing wrong with being a shy little boy. For gods sake, Sorrel was a shy, rather tall woman with pain of her own, festering in her chest. Still, it pained her to see one so young struggle so freely. A year ago, Sorrel might of turned her face away from the boy's plight, still privy to thoughts about her own upbringing, and the way the children of Hogwarts had once treated Sorrel, but Sorrel finally understood what her grieving heart could not understand, and could not learn from the petals of flowers or the sap of tree bark. The children of Hogwarts right now were not the children of her past, and were not going to laugh at Sorrel. She was a grown woman, able to control herself and her emotions. Children were just children, and her bad experiences with them had been over 20 years ago. These children's parents could of been Sorrel's bullies, but they were not their parents, nor were they Sorrel's nightmares.

Had her mother known that Sorrel would grow to love her job, and the children of the castle, when she had forced Sorrel to take the job? Most likely. The fact that Sorrel now cared about the children of the school made the pain of the boy's grief even stronger to Sorrel, who could not offer anything but herself and a chocolate bar. She had been a child once, but her childhood had been pretty idle. There had been no family deaths for Sorrel, just a struggling sexuality and parents who hadn't supported Sorrel's unwavering love of plants.

Everything had worked out for Sorrel, in the end, but would it work out for this poor boy in front of her? Sorrel's hand, which had hung limply at her side after the boy took her bar of chocolate, reached up to clutch at her heart, protected under the pink folds of her ruffled dress. Watching Ferren run a hand through his hair, Sorrel waited, patiently.

When he finally broke the silence, saying he had nothing to say, Sorrel breezed back over to her desk. Catching the boy's small smile, Sorrel returned it with a large one of her own. Her grin was large, as the woman was almost shocked that the boy could still smile, after admitting a death in the family.

"You don't have to say anything, if you cannot think of something to say. If you'd like, my greenhouse is at your disposal, as long as you touch nothing without asking permission, and watch out for the green pile of feathers sleeping in the corner."

Ferren couldn't tell anymore. Happiness? Anxiety? Confusion? This feeling in his stomach was uncontrollable. He managed to calm it a bit for the time being, but then he saw her smile. The professor had a wide and beautiful white smile across her face. Immediately, the feeling came back, only this time, it was much stronger. Questions began flooding his mind: What is she doing? Why is she smiling? Is it something I said? Something I did? What is this? Ferren tried figuring it out, but the voices in his head kept telling him that this feeling was his Social Anxiety at it again. This is different, though. Sure, his anxiety was out of control right now (and he's learned to cope with it), but this didn't feel the same.

Ferren shook everything from his head and focused on the smiling lady. Once she had finished talking, he processed for a second what she had said. He noticed she had spoken about the "pile of feathers sleeping in the corner." The bird! Ferren sucked in a short breath of air at the thought. He looked over to the corner that Miss Wright has mentioned, and indeed saw the green bird sleeping peacefully on a perch. He gasped, noticeably this time. "How pretty," the boy whispered, taking in the fascinating and shiny feathers of the little bird.

Ferren stood there for a moment as thousands of joyful childhood memories came rushing into his head. Memories of galloping horses, playful dogs, soaring birds. Memories of his parents, memories of home. Memories he had long forgotten until now. The "butterflies" grew stronger every second he looked at the sleeping animal. Suddenly, Ferren realized this feeling he had in his stomach matched the one in his childhood memories. Wonder. His eyebrows raised, his mouth barely curled, he looked back a Sorrel, wonder beginning to flicker in his eyes. "Rhys, right?"

Some stated that Sorrel cared too much, and most students assumed she cared too little. There was no in between, not when Sorrel was concerned. The child in front of her was one of the few who earned Sorrel's true personality, instead of the facade the woman struggled to put up, willing the children away. Sorrel had been burnt by humans far too many times, and like the plants she adored, Sorrel had learned to adapt, over time. It was strange for her to have a child alone in her classroom, and it was even stranger to waste her ever-growing supply of chocolate on one of the Hogwarts brood.

This boy was not one of the typical brooding class of Hogwarts students, though. Sorrel shrugged, watching the little boy, Ferren. Or perhaps, she truly didn't know the typical class of Hogwarts students as well as Sorrel assumed she did.

Ferren seemed impressed with Rhys, as most children were. There was nothing as splendid as a child inquiring about something new, which was what Sorrel aspired to do in her classroom. Even if only one children was awed or amazed by her plants, or even her bird, Sorrel had done her duty as a teacher.

The bird let out a groan from his place on the stand, amber eyes flashing open to study the inquisitive boy, before they fluttered closed again. The green bird was in a state of laziness, black and green feathers ruffled and dirty, with dirt from flowers he had secretly snacked on. The grey of his underbelly was exposed, as the sleeping bird moved to the side of the stand, closer to the sunlight streaming through the glass of the greenhouse windows.

Sorrel smiled at the bird, easily impressed by her beloved pet. "Rhys, yes. He was named when I was younger, after Reese's Pieces. It's spelled R-h-y-s though, simply because it sounds more fancy." The professor sounded out the letters of her bird's name, grin still on her tanned face.

It had been quite a while since Ferren had felt the incredible magic and sensation of wonder. As the boy observed the bird, his gaze began to shift around the sun-lit greenhouse. All kinds of plants reflected the incoming light, making the whole greenhouse seem to glimmer.

Back at the farm, Ferren used to be obsessed with taking care of all the animals. He loved the outdoors, and went exploring almost everyday. He was peppy and rebellious, only until his mother died. It all went downhill from there; Ferren locked himself in his room for days, refusing to eat, go outside, or socialize. Ferren wanted to feel this way again and again. However, that peppy, excited, adventurous boy was fighting to escape the cage he was locked in. A cage that Ferren didn't have the key to.

"I thought that the Care of Magical Creatures class would be my favorite," he said, his voice distant but dreamy. He continued, "I'm not having that class this year, so I thought Herbology was the closest I could get." He looked back to the professor, his face glowing, although struggling to show any emotion. "I think... I think I'm gonna like this class."