11 Nov 2024, 12:37
Shattered Pot Plants and New Connections
It was the first day of classes at Hogwarts, and Cassandra was determined to make sure that everything would go flawlessly.September 2nd, 2024 | Herbology Class, Greenhouse 1
Speech: #1f7f3c
Interacting with: @Conrad Wolverstone
She arrived in front of the greenhouse five minutes early, double-checking to make sure that she was in the right place and that her school uniform was still up to her standards of neatness. The Slytherin badge on the front of her robes, glinting emerald as she looked down at herself, still left her with a feeling of dread. Couldn't it just have been Ravenclaw? That would make life so much easier...
Still, it was what it was. She'd just have to make the most of it.
Other students started showing up one by one. She entered along with them, carefully choosing a spot to stand in - not too far away from where she assumed the professor would be standing to ensure that she wouldn't miss anything important, but not too close to the front, either, allowing her to observe the class without being the center of anyone's attention.
She had skimmed through her Herbology textbook beforehand to know what to expect. In parts, it had been a somewhat reassuring read. Even though the specific properties of the plants to be studied were very, very different from Muggle flora, the subject in general seemed very similar to a specific branch of what Muggles would normally call biology.
Mostly, Cassandra preferred the more abstract, less hands-on fields of science, like maths and physics - on the level she was currently studying at, those seemed much more predictable and logical than biology. But still... this was science. In a way.
She could handle science.
Cassandra listened intently as the lesson began, taking notes of what was said in her neat, careful handwriting. She liked that the teacher went over the safety precautions in great detail. Finally, someone with common sense. The world of witchcraft and wizardry seemed to be a dangerous place - one of the first pages in her textbook had been about a sentient plant whose cry was fatal to anyone who heard it - and Cassandra wanted to know exactly how she could make sure there were no unpleasant surprises.
Her first Herbology lesson was over sooner than she expected it to be, having lost track of time while noting everything down. The end of class was accompanied by a sudden outburst of noise as the other first-years started chattering with their friends and making their way to the exit.
Cassandra was reading through her notes as she walked towards the door, trying to figure out whether she had missed anything. Maybe it was not the best idea to fail to look where she was going, especially in a crowded room that was cluttered with pots and plants and all sorts of miscellaneous tools - which she only realized when it was already too late.
The first-year stumbled over an uneven spot on the ground, dropping her notes and quill. In an attempt to keep herself from falling, she tried to grab onto anything around her - unfortunately, the only thing her flailing arms could reach was a shelf with small plant pots. As she fell, she took several of the pots with her, which shattered on the ground.
Cassandra quickly got to her feet, shaking, her cheeks burning. She was mortified when she saw the mess she'd made - the plants that had been in the pots were mostly a jumble of broken stems and crushed leaves, debris and shards of clay had gone absolutely everywhere, and the shoes and robes of the boy who'd been walking in front of her were noticeably dirtied by the soil. As he turned around, she saw that he was a Slytherin as well. Off to a great start with your housemates, aren't you? It was all going so well up to now, and then you had to make a blunder like that in your very first lesson... What a bloody failure you are.
"I'm so, so sorry", Cassandra stammered. "It was an accident - I didn't mean to get dirt on your school uniform, I'll clean it for you, I swear! I was just reading my notes, and then..." She gestured to the wreckage in front of her. "Why do I have to be so clumsy?", she added quietly, more to herself than to her fellow Slytherin.
WC: 728/200
11 Nov 2024, 19:29
Shattered Pot Plants and New Connections
Still, any excitement he may have had for classes evaporated the moment his march to the greenhouses began. Soon filtering through the door with the rest of the first years—and avoiding them as best he could as soon as he was through. Some were in wonderous, or rather obnoxious awe, others looking like they were ready to leave five minutes ago. Conrad?—It wasn't transfiguration or charms—defence against the dark arts even... Really, any other class that, in his eyes, involved real magic. Whatever that may have been in his tiny soon-to-be twelve-year-old mind. The first chunk of the class was nothing but heaps of rules and rules and rules and ruuuules; honestly, it gave potions a run for its money. How dangerous could a few flowers be?
Very.
Luckily, in spite of his boisterous ego, he wasn't stupid. If the professor said they were dangerous, surely they had to have been. Even if the boy was as cynical as ever. But perhaps there was merit in the professor's words. Except, Conrad couldn't have predicted exactly what kind of dangerous lurked among the shrubs—and on the shelves. The worst kind...
Class, by Merlin's grace, ended as soon as it began. Whatever made that possible eluded the young Slytherin, but he was grateful all the same. Onto better, more worthwhile things!—CRASH! Filth, dirt, maybe even worms splattered all over Conrad's pristine and perfectly kept uniform—on his robes, his shoes, maybe even on his trousers somehow. He spun around on his heels. Absolutely mortified by the sight. The state of his attire. The mess on the floor. The clumsy Slytherin in front of him. Speechless.
He simply stared at her. Eyes wide. Watching as she profusely apologised for her felonies. Before his gaze fell on himself—a muted gasp was all he could muster. Their peers turned to the commotion, piercing looks burning holes through the boy's image he worked so hard to uphold. What would his parents say?
And was it really that serious? Of course not. Not to any normal person—but his family weren't 'normal' or average. Sure, he could just return to the dungeons, get changed, and forget it ever happened... while parading himself in these lovely, freshly muddied robes. The thought alone made Conrad shiver.
Finally, his gaze met the perpetrator's. Hers, full of regret and sorrow. One particular sentence stuck out among her stammering. Brows raised, his voice as soft as ever unfurled in an involuntary quip, "Why do you have to be so clumsy...? I'm also curious." It slipped out, his tone remaining flat and nigh emotionless. Anger, or frustration wasn't correct. Neither was annoyance—a numb feeling washed over the boy. The knowledge of the coming inevitable walk of shame across the castle, and worse, the common room. On the first day of classes, no less.
If there was a howler-worthy deed in his father's eyes, it was this.
