The morning had only just begun to stretch across the castle grounds when Evander found himself walking the familiar path towards the greenhouses, his leather satchel resting neatly against his side. A veil of dew lingered upon the grass, turning each blade into a tiny prism beneath the soft autumn sunlight. The air carried the unmistakable scent of damp earth, rosemary, and freshly watered herbs, while birdsong drifted lazily through the gardens as though the world itself had not yet fully awakened.
He had arrived early. It was a habit his father had cultivated long before Hogwarts had ever entered the conversation. If someone gives you their time, arrive before it. Finding an empty bench near the greenhouse entrance, Evander carefully set his satchel beside him before taking a seat. His eyes wandered over the gardens that surrounded him, lingering upon flowering shrubs, ivy-covered stone, and the gentle sway of lavender dancing in the morning breeze. Herbology had always possessed a peculiar familiarity, one that reached beyond textbooks and lesson plans.
Without realising it, a quiet melody escaped him. "We have forgotten how to be good guests... how to walk lightly on the earth as its other creatures do..." He hummed the words beneath his breath, scarcely louder than the leaves stirring overhead. His mother had sung that melody throughout his childhood. Whenever the weather permitted, Vivienne would abandon the drawing rooms in favour of the Beauchamps' sprawling gardens, where lessons were exchanged for wandering footpaths lined with roses and ancient oak trees. Her hand, always gloved yet impossibly warm, would gently guide his much smaller one as they paused to admire every bloom they encountered.
Whenever young Evander reached to pick a flower simply because he found it beautiful, she never scolded him. Instead, she would kneel beside him with that same patient smile she wore so effortlessly.*"The earth is kind enough to share its beauty with us," she would whisper. "Our task is not to take all that we admire, but to leave enough behind for tomorrow. We are only guests here, Evander. Good guests always leave a place as beautiful as they found it." He had never forgotten those words. Even now, years later, the melody returned whenever he found himself surrounded by greenery, as though the gardens themselves carried echoes of home. A faint smile settled upon his lips.
Reaching over, he brushed a stray leaf from the bench beside him before placing his notebook neatly upon the wooden seat between them. Professor had paired him with Cecilia Merrick for a year-long Herbology project, one that promised countless mornings spent tending magical plants together. Most students would have sighed at the thought of working alongside the same partner for an entire year. Evander found himself rather looking forward to it. After all, gardens had a curious way of introducing people to one another. Perhaps friendships, much like flowers, simply needed the right conditions to bloom.
