Attack of the Bulbs PV Edwin Westbridge Finished

Avis slid down the side of the slightly jerking box in exhausted triumph as Edwin collapsed on top of it. She slumped onto the floor to catch her breath, her chest heaving up and down. She shot her companion a look at his suggestion, but after a moment of quick contemplation, she shrugged.

"No harm done, really, so I wouldn't be opposed," she replied and then took a glance around the greenhouse to assess the damage truly.

In retrospect, it seemed there had been harm done and Avis grimaced at the smashed pots and littered greenery strewn throughout the previously tranquil setting. She strained her neck towards Edwin who was still draped over their last capture. The box jerked again and the Ravenclaw thumped the side of it with a closed fist.

"Do you suppose we should clean up a bit? Or just vacate the premises before a prefect finds us and clarts their pants?" she thought aloud, shifting against the box to crane her neck for another view around the greenhouse. Bollocks it was a disaster in here.

She sighed in relief at the sight of the untouched mandrakes. At least those had remained snugly in their pots. She cocked her head. If one truly thought about it, most of this experience had been rather fun and she'd perhaps gained a new friend... well... more of a colleague really. A co-worker one might say.

Avis sighed and climbed to her feet, her body bruised and aching. "At least we managed to miss all the murderous plants," she continued, stretching slightly and wondering if she should start picking up bits of clumpy spilled fertilizer.

Edwin was in no mood to immediately reply as Avis pondered aloud, continuing to lay atop the final box, utterly defeated by the hard work he had been forced to take part in. What a terrible series of events, he thought to himself, his breath finally starting to return to him. Two things had been made clear by this incident: he should force himself to do at least a bit of excercise as not to get this tired, and that he was correct to have always hated this subject. The safe plants were boring, the dangerous plants made him work hard. What was there to like?

After a moment of silence, he rose with a defeated sigh, taking a seat ontop of the box. At her question, he glanced briefly around the greenhouse, surveying the damage they had caused. Or well, the bulbs had caused, but they were responsible indirectly. "I think the correct answer is that we should clean up," He began, briefly appearing as a shining example of the selflessness and good nature that a Gryffindor should display. However, just as quickly, he shut all that down by continuing, "however I cannot be bothered. If we are not spotted leaving, there is no way they will know it was us."

He rose to his feet, dropping his not so trusty wand into his pocket, and brushing the dust from his robes that had been built by his continued tripping and diving. "My whole body hurts." He said dramatically, beginning to hobble over towards the door they had snuck in through. His foot really did hurt, though he was certain it had no actual damage and would just be bruised for some time.

"That is true," He muttered, glancing over towards the plants that had remained potted. "That would of been horrifying if theyd been hit.. Not sure what we even could of done, to be honest."

As he drew closer to the door, he was struck by a completely unfamiliar feeling as he glanced back briefly towards the damage they had caused. This feeling caused his brows to furrow, a frown appearing on his expression. "I have this strange feeling," He began. "I am feeling terrible about this damage, and I'm unsure why." He continued, describing the feeling of guilt that was completely unfamilair to him. Having never truly been told off as a child, and often validated even if he misbehaved, Edwin was expericing something entierly foreign as he was forced to witness what he had done, with no one to quell his worry.

"There is this.. I feel we should clean up," He eventually declared, even taking a step forward before stopping himself. "But I can't be bothered.. But I should clean up. Oh, the horror." He sighed dramatically, idly scratching at his chin, pondering what it is that he should do. "Whichever you want," He eventually said, rooted to the spot by indecision.

ooc - it's fine dw, i had exams all through that month so I wasn't really writing in that month anyway.

Avis smirked at the extremely unfamiliar look of remorse on Edwin's face. Merlin, the boy was the lazy to the point of avoiding feeling certain emotions because they took too much effort. Or perhaps led to making an effort. Probably that.

She watched his face contort as if he was just now realizing actions do indeed have consequences and she furrowed her eyebrows. The Ravenclaw supposed that was a good thing: a young boy gaining the beginnings of a heart... or perhaps consciousness, although she briefly wondered what his childhood had been like to only be realizing that now.

"I believe it's called guilt, if I'm not mistaken. Common human emotion, although it seems some of us weren't born with it," she replied good-naturedly, the same feeling coursing through her as well, tightening her throat in stress for a moment. It truly was a disaster in here. But that question now was did she feel the stress because of the need to clean up the mess or was she worried they'd be caught?

A yawn caught her mid-thought. It was getting awfully late. And no one had come yet. Perhaps they still had time to leave before the keeper of keys happened by on his late night rounds. But her thoughts of escape were banished by Edwin's sudden good will. A most Gryffindor trait. She sighed, making the decision for him as he grappled with his moral dilemma.

"Alright, I suppose we can make it look less 'post-tornado'," she grumbled.

The two spent the next hour or so collecting broken pots and various debris, and shoving them into trash bags they'd found under a workstation in the corner. After Avis had grabbed hold of a broom and Edwin finished stacking the bags against the wall (away from the dubiously still-active crates), the two students crept back out the door and into the frozen night, exhausted but not all together regretful.