SnitchSeeker.com - View Single Post - Lesson: Herbology

sweetpinkpixie · 05-23-2026, 01:13 AM

Nyle arrived to Greenhouse 2 earlier than he had wanted to, shoulders drawing a little tighter as he crossed the threshold with a body in conflict with his internal dialogue. There had been a lot of that when it came to lessons, had been since last term, and the sixth year chalked it all up to still struggling with routine.

Professor Hawkins should have felt like a clean slate ― especially this much into term and with how... colorful and wonderfully eccentric a personality the woman had. A chance to simply be another student again rather than the boy associated with whispered conversations, missed lessons, and an incident people still carefully stepped around in conversation. Yet his mind kept snagging on the possibility that someone had warned Professor Hawkins before term had even begun about...well... him.

Difficult student. Unstable judgment. Skipped Herbology often enough to be concerning. Nearly destroyed his own common room with dangerous plantlife and drove a ghost into retirement.

None of it helped that this was Herbology of all subjects. The one place he used to feel most certain of himself.

The warm air and the scent of damp soil that greeted him as he stepped fully inside had helped a little, enough that some of the tension in his posture eased and he looked a little less like a giant trying to squeeze through the average door. His gaze moved instinctively toward the plants first rather than the people gathered around them: Bubotubers. Fanged Geraniums. Healthy and thriving specimens too. That lifted his spirits a little.

"Good day, Professor Hawkins. Garfield. Toby," he greeted politely as he stepped timidly about.

A handful of his housemates had already arrived as well, but Nyle hesitated before drifting toward a a vacant table further in the back and all the way off to the side. Not out of dislike. Merlin, no. The opposite, perhaps, if you understood the mental gymnastics the blond performed. But he was in a losing battle as of late with the persistent feeling that he had somehow been grafted incorrectly back onto the wrong branch. Still attached, technically, and still alive... but not settling the way he ought to.

Except for Gobstones mentoring. Outside of playing classical and jazz music for his plants, helping his younger peers ― whether they were aspiring or just curious ― engage with the sport in a low pressure environment nurtured something inside him. Or perhaps it was simply that, during those moments, he could pour his attention into something careful and precise that existed entirely beyond himself. Professor Amstern continued to be a beacon of sorts as well, steady enough that, eventually, he’d found the courage to press his hands back into the soil in the first place.

Everything, and everyone, else though... he kept a little distance. Maybe more than a little.

As he slid into his seat, something small slipped from the pocket of his robes and hit the greenhouse floor with a soft clatter and dull dragging sound as it rolled away. Nyle blinked, then bent awkwardly beneath the table to retrieve it, nearly knocking his knee against the bench in the process, only to find that whatever it had been was long gone and likely somewhere near the flowerbed in front of him. "Brilliant," he muttered under his breath as his long fingers felt inside is pockets for a hint of what it may have been ― though he was now suspecting it to be a particularly picturesque acorn he had collected the other day. "Let's hope that doesn’t turn into a Kobus Hendrik situation."

The words left him automatically before he properly thought about them. He still didn't entirely know what the phrase actually meant ― which should have been his first clue not to use them so willy nilly. Someone in the common room had muttered it weeks ago while looking at him like he was something liable to just shrivel up due to poor watering habits. He had never asked for clarification. Partly because nobody had sounded particularly eager to explain it, and partly because he suspected understanding it fully might somehow make thing worse.

Straightening again, surrendered the search and settled into the seat, long limbs adjusting twice before finding something marginally comfortable. His attention drifted immediately to the plants settled on his table. The restraint to not touch them still came more easily than it once might have.

"Good day to you, Christofern. Piper."

Not a fern but he could appreciate a good plant pun.

05-23-2026, 01:13 AM	#4 (permalink)
sweetpinkpixie SSRPG Admin Gladrags Mod Quibbler Mod Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor Sea Serpent Join Date: Aug 2010 Location: The Paths Posts: 41,560 Hogwarts RPG Name: Professor Cox Ravenclaw Graduated Hogwarts RPG Name: CJ Miller Gryffindor Fourth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Nyle Harden Hufflepuff Seventh Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Iris Harden Ravenclaw Seventh Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Jae-hyuk Anouilh Slytherin Seventh Year Ministry Department Head: Charles Hollingberry Minister's Office Ministry Department Head: Airey Flamsteed Mysteries Diagon Alley Proprietor: Victor García Massey Ollivanders x12 x12	Nyle Harden \| Hufflepuff astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK \| & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf Nyle arrived to Greenhouse 2 earlier than he had wanted to, shoulders drawing a little tighter as he crossed the threshold with a body in conflict with his internal dialogue. There had been a lot of that when it came to lessons, had been since last term, and the sixth year chalked it all up to still struggling with routine. Professor Hawkins should have felt like a clean slate ― especially this much into term and with how... colorful and wonderfully eccentric a personality the woman had. A chance to simply be another student again rather than the boy associated with whispered conversations, missed lessons, and an incident people still carefully stepped around in conversation. Yet his mind kept snagging on the possibility that someone had warned Professor Hawkins before term had even begun about...well... him. Difficult student. Unstable judgment. Skipped Herbology often enough to be concerning. Nearly destroyed his own common room with dangerous plantlife and drove a ghost into retirement. None of it helped that this was Herbology of all subjects. The one place he used to feel most certain of himself. The warm air and the scent of damp soil that greeted him as he stepped fully inside had helped a little, enough that some of the tension in his posture eased and he looked a little less like a giant trying to squeeze through the average door. His gaze moved instinctively toward the plants first rather than the people gathered around them: Bubotubers. Fanged Geraniums. Healthy and thriving specimens too. That lifted his spirits a little. "Good day, Professor Hawkins. Garfield. Toby," he greeted politely as he stepped timidly about. A handful of his housemates had already arrived as well, but Nyle hesitated before drifting toward a a vacant table further in the back and all the way off to the side. Not out of dislike. Merlin, no. The opposite, perhaps, if you understood the mental gymnastics the blond performed. But he was in a losing battle as of late with the persistent feeling that he had somehow been grafted incorrectly back onto the wrong branch. Still attached, technically, and still alive... but not settling the way he ought to. Except for Gobstones mentoring. Outside of playing classical and jazz music for his plants, helping his younger peers ― whether they were aspiring or just curious ― engage with the sport in a low pressure environment nurtured something inside him. Or perhaps it was simply that, during those moments, he could pour his attention into something careful and precise that existed entirely beyond himself. Professor Amstern continued to be a beacon of sorts as well, steady enough that, eventually, he’d found the courage to press his hands back into the soil in the first place. Everything, and everyone, else though... he kept a little distance. Maybe more than a little. As he slid into his seat, something small slipped from the pocket of his robes and hit the greenhouse floor with a soft clatter and dull dragging sound as it rolled away. Nyle blinked, then bent awkwardly beneath the table to retrieve it, nearly knocking his knee against the bench in the process, only to find that whatever it had been was long gone and likely somewhere near the flowerbed in front of him. "Brilliant," he muttered under his breath as his long fingers felt inside is pockets for a hint of what it may have been ― though he was now suspecting it to be a particularly picturesque acorn he had collected the other day. "Let's hope that doesn’t turn into a Kobus Hendrik situation." The words left him automatically before he properly thought about them. He still didn't entirely know what the phrase actually meant ― which should have been his first clue not to use them so willy nilly. Someone in the common room had muttered it weeks ago while looking at him like he was something liable to just shrivel up due to poor watering habits. He had never asked for clarification. Partly because nobody had sounded particularly eager to explain it, and partly because he suspected understanding it fully might somehow make thing worse. Straightening again, surrendered the search and settled into the seat, long limbs adjusting twice before finding something marginally comfortable. His attention drifted immediately to the plants settled on his table. The restraint to not touch them still came more easily than it once might have. "Good day to you, Christofern. Piper." Not a fern but he could appreciate a good plant pun. __________________ We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back......................................... But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass..................................... The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like