28 Apr 2020, 16:18
Plastic Pots for Poor Plants
Ginevra stood at the entrance of the greenhouse. This place ought to look pretty in green and have a soothing atmosphere, but in reality, it was a total opposite.
The greenhouse had become something sad to behold.
Dust, dirt, and grime covered its windows. The floor was carpeted with dirt. But the saddest view happened to be the plants themselves: they were no longer in pots, they were lying on the floor for they had been toppled off the planks, and the remains of their shattered pots were merely fragments of stone scattered here and there.
To be honest, Ginevra felt like crying just by accidentally looking at the plants on the floor and the pots.
"Poor things," she whispered to herself as she knelt beside the plants, making sure that at least they were still alive. The girl breathed a sigh of relief upon finding out that nothing serious had happened to the poor plants.
Standing up again, she tried to rack her brain. "Well," thought the Hufflepuff, "there must be something I can do..." Just then, her eyes fell onto the stack of pots Professor Boniface Murtagh MacTavish - the Herbology professor, that was who he was - had put in one corner of the greenhouse. "Yup, I definitely can repot the plants," the first year student said - but only inside her head, so no one could hear it but her.
She was about to reach out for one of the pots when abruptly, she stopped herself. Something occurred in her mind: The poor plants and the broken pots were scattered all over the greenhouse floor because someone had done it on purpose. Maybe bad students who had attempted several break-ins.
Ginevra clicked her tongue.In this case, the girl thought, merely repotting the plants will not be a good solution, because I am pretty sure the same kind of incident will occur again in the future. In fact, I bet my bottom Sickle that it will happen again multiple times!
For quite some time, the blonde Hufflepuff just stood there and did nothing except thinking. It was as if there were pulleys, gears, and levers in her brain, and right now, all of them were labouring in full speed to the point that those around Ginevra could hear the buzz from her brain. (Well, that was, if there was anyone around her. But certainly, the plants counted, right? They really could hear anyway, Muggle studies had shown this.)
Finally, the first year student came with a solution. Perhaps it was not the best solution ever, perhaps there were much better solutions out there, but this was the best this eleven-year-old girl could come up with right there and at that time.
When she first arrived at Hogwarts, Ginevra had some plastic pots with her. At that time, she had been considering keeping her own flowers, which was why she took them to school; but the plan was soon forgot because she had been kept busy even since the beginning of the new term. So yeah, she decided to use her plastic pots to repot these poor plants. At least, this way Professor MacTavish would not need to keep changing the pots, even if they were toppled.
The girl ran to the Hufflepuff dorm to fetch her plastic pots. Running back to the greenhouse, she worked as fast as she could while still being careful, repotting the plants one by one, transferring them from the broken stone pots to the brown plastic pots. And as she performed this, she actually felt much better and started humming, one song after another.
It took time, but finally Ginevra finished repotting all plants. Satisfied, the brown-eyed girl smiled and looked around the greenhouse. It was still not perfect, sweeping and dusting would certainly needed. But they had to wait. For the moment, the sun had set and it was time for dinner. Ginevra returned to her dorm, washed her hands, and changed her clothes for supper while thinking about cleaning the greenhouse tomorrow.
Word count: 672
The greenhouse had become something sad to behold.
Dust, dirt, and grime covered its windows. The floor was carpeted with dirt. But the saddest view happened to be the plants themselves: they were no longer in pots, they were lying on the floor for they had been toppled off the planks, and the remains of their shattered pots were merely fragments of stone scattered here and there.
To be honest, Ginevra felt like crying just by accidentally looking at the plants on the floor and the pots.
"Poor things," she whispered to herself as she knelt beside the plants, making sure that at least they were still alive. The girl breathed a sigh of relief upon finding out that nothing serious had happened to the poor plants.
Standing up again, she tried to rack her brain. "Well," thought the Hufflepuff, "there must be something I can do..." Just then, her eyes fell onto the stack of pots Professor Boniface Murtagh MacTavish - the Herbology professor, that was who he was - had put in one corner of the greenhouse. "Yup, I definitely can repot the plants," the first year student said - but only inside her head, so no one could hear it but her.
She was about to reach out for one of the pots when abruptly, she stopped herself. Something occurred in her mind: The poor plants and the broken pots were scattered all over the greenhouse floor because someone had done it on purpose. Maybe bad students who had attempted several break-ins.
Ginevra clicked her tongue.In this case, the girl thought, merely repotting the plants will not be a good solution, because I am pretty sure the same kind of incident will occur again in the future. In fact, I bet my bottom Sickle that it will happen again multiple times!
For quite some time, the blonde Hufflepuff just stood there and did nothing except thinking. It was as if there were pulleys, gears, and levers in her brain, and right now, all of them were labouring in full speed to the point that those around Ginevra could hear the buzz from her brain. (Well, that was, if there was anyone around her. But certainly, the plants counted, right? They really could hear anyway, Muggle studies had shown this.)
Finally, the first year student came with a solution. Perhaps it was not the best solution ever, perhaps there were much better solutions out there, but this was the best this eleven-year-old girl could come up with right there and at that time.
When she first arrived at Hogwarts, Ginevra had some plastic pots with her. At that time, she had been considering keeping her own flowers, which was why she took them to school; but the plan was soon forgot because she had been kept busy even since the beginning of the new term. So yeah, she decided to use her plastic pots to repot these poor plants. At least, this way Professor MacTavish would not need to keep changing the pots, even if they were toppled.
The girl ran to the Hufflepuff dorm to fetch her plastic pots. Running back to the greenhouse, she worked as fast as she could while still being careful, repotting the plants one by one, transferring them from the broken stone pots to the brown plastic pots. And as she performed this, she actually felt much better and started humming, one song after another.
It took time, but finally Ginevra finished repotting all plants. Satisfied, the brown-eyed girl smiled and looked around the greenhouse. It was still not perfect, sweeping and dusting would certainly needed. But they had to wait. For the moment, the sun had set and it was time for dinner. Ginevra returned to her dorm, washed her hands, and changed her clothes for supper while thinking about cleaning the greenhouse tomorrow.
Word count: 672