Running from the rooms to the Great Hall, I decided that it was time to
actually think about whom to try next. Clearly my instincts where terribly
wrong. I pulled out a piece of parchment and quill and set to work making a
list of all things absolutely necessary in a guardian.
1. Someone with more then one room. Hagrid and McGonagall had
shown the horrors of sharing, and quite frankly I'd had enough
molesting and voyeurism to last a life time.
2. Some one messy. Someone who did not like triangles, or
circles or squares for that matter. Someone who could live
happily in the randomness of nature. . .
Then it hit me. Like a bolt of lightning to the head an idea took root and sprung forth. The perfect teacher to live with! Professor Sprout! The dumpy little witch with her tattered robes and dirt blackened nails. Hair flying every which way in an almost straw like manner as if she were a scarecrow left in the field after her farmer had decided to abandon his crop. She had clearly sprung forth with life to tend to those beloved shrubs herself. The mild mannered witch, favourite of Neville Longbottom (who if nothing else only liked the most demure of teachers) was almost definitely asexual and without the magical talent for animal transfiguration and the consequential bestiality issues. Not only that, but she lived in large and well known accommodation that was filled with plants and dirt and all things not symmetrical, parallel or even slightly neat. She was prefect!
I picked up my quill and ink bottle and returned them to a small bag I had decided to take out of my trunk so that I might carry a few important things without unpacking. . . unpacking was bad. . . and then made my way to the green houses. Trudging through mud and grass and a batch of squirming mandrakes I found Professor Sprout tenting to her plants out the front, singing little songs to them and patting their leaves. Her soft voice was that of a devoted nanny, she was the epitome of the maternal figure.
"Hello, Professor Sprout! I was wondering. . . I mean if you don't mind, the Headmaster said I could choose a teacher to live with. . ." my face flushed red with embarrassment, asking to stay with someone was actually quite hard when given the time to think about where you stay. The old witch straightened up with a loud crack from her back and smiled a chubby faced smile as she dusted her hands off. "So I was wondering if I could stay with you?" I finished almost lamely. If my luck where to persist, she would say no. Or perhaps ask who exactly I was.
The old witch seemed to preen at the suggestion and started to thank me profusely for the company. Her cheeks tinting a shy red and her smile as welcoming as Molly Weasleys as she removed her dirt covered apron and gloves to show me my new rooms.
Ushering me inside the house and offering lemonade and cookies I was happy with my choice. The insides looked almost like an underground rabbit borrow, walls of jagged stone covered in moss and weaving vines and small seats before a heath made from hollowed logs. She showed me to my room and suggested that should I get bored my assistance would be most appreciated in the garden later on. When she left me to pack, still slightly paranoid, I watched suspiciously through a crack in the door until her figure had trotted back outside before turning to inspect the room. A plush bed sat near the side of the small but comfortable quarters, thick with layers of patched blankets and branding the Hufflepuff crest in the centre. On the side was an old cottage like armoire with an ornate mirror on the front and leaves carved into the woodwork. The door creaked when I deposited my bag inside, but I found that little imperfection perfect right then.
After finishing the lemonade and cookie I made my way outside to help in the garden and happily wiled away the hours watering and re-potting and most definitely not clipping anything into a triangle hedge. Sprout was rather fond of the random shape of her belongings and wouldn't trim them at all unless the species demanded it.
Later that night, sitting next to the hearth, I felt a tickling on my neck and startled around to find a vine curling towards me in the most menacing way a vine ever had before. I got the feeling that even though it was a lone length, it was somehow flipping me the bird. The long and finger like stem was bald of leaves but seemed to stem from an extensive growth covering the walls of almost every room. Tinny little hairs along it's tips stood up in warning. The plant was most definitely threatening me.
"Don't mind him, dear. Rupert gets a little jealous of company is all. I'm sure he'll get used to you soon enough." she rushed reassured me, but the nervous glint in her eye gave her away. 'Rupert' the vine made another dash for my neck was swatted away by the professors hand. A slight whining noise could be heard, form god only knows where, as it retreated to its place on the wall. Only slightly creped out, I continued to talk.
That was until a tightening around my ankle made me painfully aware that Rupert had returned. "Ahhh!" I yelled out in alarm as I tried furtively to tug my foot from the chair, under which the vine had made his way. I was the man on death row with one ankle band in place when a fire started and everyone abandoned me. If only that one vine would let go I could flee to safety! Lifting the leg of my trousers the thick vine could be seen winding ever tighter, like a python, as my foot slowly turned red and the soft skin of my ankle creased under pressure. The smoother surface of the greenery cutting slightly as I moaned in mounting pain.
"RUPERT!" Sprout yelled out at the offending plant, "What do you think your doing? Let young Harry go at once!" and with that she fell to her knees and started to wrestle the tight vine from my ankle. I sat in fear as her large and patch covered bottom bobbed in the air before me, small grunting noises sounding below. I felt most uncomfortable. Her messy grey hair blocked my view of the struggle for my foots freedom but from the feel of it she was slowly making headway, and circulation was slowly returning. When she finally worked it free I had merely enough time to scream in surprise before a larger vine made its' way from behind her to tug her robes backwards and away from my risqué. "Rupert! Stop it at once! He's just a student! Your being ridiculous!" She stumbled backwards as the vine held tight to it's beloved human. Rupert, apparently, disagreed with her assessment of my threat. Many more smaller vines snakes out to hold the witch in place without so much as scratching her as the previously attacking one made haste to my neck and lifted me slightly off the ground. A retched scream left my lounges as I realised that I just might die from this territorial plant. Madam Sprout wiggling across from me, her dumpy little hands pulling at the non responsive vines holding her in place as she tried fruitlessly to reason with the murderous thing. "Rupert, I swear, he's just a student! You can't kill him! They'll fire me! We'll see how lonely you get once your all alone! Not many teachers would put up with this!"
Water started to sprout from my eyes and the beat of my heart was rushing through my ears. The rhythmic thumping seemed to make my face heavier with each rush against the insides of my ears and eyes, my toes just barely scraping the ground when Rupert suddenly dragged my gagging form from the room and threw me quite violently out the front door. I stumbled on the ground gasping for air as the vine retreated with a last flick, and I was once again left with the feeling that it had made some fauna type of rude gesture. A smash from a side window seconds later and my bag was tossed from the opening before a coverage of vines engulfed every opening and closed of the still tutting Professor inside. Clearly I was not welcome.
Slightly thankful that I had not fallen asleep with her 'darling' plants, I made my way back to the castle to sleep in a corridor instead. In the world of Hogwarts being homeless was better then being an orphan.
1. Someone with more then one room. Hagrid and McGonagall had
shown the horrors of sharing, and quite frankly I'd had enough
molesting and voyeurism to last a life time.
2. Some one messy. Someone who did not like triangles, or
circles or squares for that matter. Someone who could live
happily in the randomness of nature. . .
Then it hit me. Like a bolt of lightning to the head an idea took root and sprung forth. The perfect teacher to live with! Professor Sprout! The dumpy little witch with her tattered robes and dirt blackened nails. Hair flying every which way in an almost straw like manner as if she were a scarecrow left in the field after her farmer had decided to abandon his crop. She had clearly sprung forth with life to tend to those beloved shrubs herself. The mild mannered witch, favourite of Neville Longbottom (who if nothing else only liked the most demure of teachers) was almost definitely asexual and without the magical talent for animal transfiguration and the consequential bestiality issues. Not only that, but she lived in large and well known accommodation that was filled with plants and dirt and all things not symmetrical, parallel or even slightly neat. She was prefect!
I picked up my quill and ink bottle and returned them to a small bag I had decided to take out of my trunk so that I might carry a few important things without unpacking. . . unpacking was bad. . . and then made my way to the green houses. Trudging through mud and grass and a batch of squirming mandrakes I found Professor Sprout tenting to her plants out the front, singing little songs to them and patting their leaves. Her soft voice was that of a devoted nanny, she was the epitome of the maternal figure.
"Hello, Professor Sprout! I was wondering. . . I mean if you don't mind, the Headmaster said I could choose a teacher to live with. . ." my face flushed red with embarrassment, asking to stay with someone was actually quite hard when given the time to think about where you stay. The old witch straightened up with a loud crack from her back and smiled a chubby faced smile as she dusted her hands off. "So I was wondering if I could stay with you?" I finished almost lamely. If my luck where to persist, she would say no. Or perhaps ask who exactly I was.
The old witch seemed to preen at the suggestion and started to thank me profusely for the company. Her cheeks tinting a shy red and her smile as welcoming as Molly Weasleys as she removed her dirt covered apron and gloves to show me my new rooms.
Ushering me inside the house and offering lemonade and cookies I was happy with my choice. The insides looked almost like an underground rabbit borrow, walls of jagged stone covered in moss and weaving vines and small seats before a heath made from hollowed logs. She showed me to my room and suggested that should I get bored my assistance would be most appreciated in the garden later on. When she left me to pack, still slightly paranoid, I watched suspiciously through a crack in the door until her figure had trotted back outside before turning to inspect the room. A plush bed sat near the side of the small but comfortable quarters, thick with layers of patched blankets and branding the Hufflepuff crest in the centre. On the side was an old cottage like armoire with an ornate mirror on the front and leaves carved into the woodwork. The door creaked when I deposited my bag inside, but I found that little imperfection perfect right then.
After finishing the lemonade and cookie I made my way outside to help in the garden and happily wiled away the hours watering and re-potting and most definitely not clipping anything into a triangle hedge. Sprout was rather fond of the random shape of her belongings and wouldn't trim them at all unless the species demanded it.
Later that night, sitting next to the hearth, I felt a tickling on my neck and startled around to find a vine curling towards me in the most menacing way a vine ever had before. I got the feeling that even though it was a lone length, it was somehow flipping me the bird. The long and finger like stem was bald of leaves but seemed to stem from an extensive growth covering the walls of almost every room. Tinny little hairs along it's tips stood up in warning. The plant was most definitely threatening me.
"Don't mind him, dear. Rupert gets a little jealous of company is all. I'm sure he'll get used to you soon enough." she rushed reassured me, but the nervous glint in her eye gave her away. 'Rupert' the vine made another dash for my neck was swatted away by the professors hand. A slight whining noise could be heard, form god only knows where, as it retreated to its place on the wall. Only slightly creped out, I continued to talk.
That was until a tightening around my ankle made me painfully aware that Rupert had returned. "Ahhh!" I yelled out in alarm as I tried furtively to tug my foot from the chair, under which the vine had made his way. I was the man on death row with one ankle band in place when a fire started and everyone abandoned me. If only that one vine would let go I could flee to safety! Lifting the leg of my trousers the thick vine could be seen winding ever tighter, like a python, as my foot slowly turned red and the soft skin of my ankle creased under pressure. The smoother surface of the greenery cutting slightly as I moaned in mounting pain.
"RUPERT!" Sprout yelled out at the offending plant, "What do you think your doing? Let young Harry go at once!" and with that she fell to her knees and started to wrestle the tight vine from my ankle. I sat in fear as her large and patch covered bottom bobbed in the air before me, small grunting noises sounding below. I felt most uncomfortable. Her messy grey hair blocked my view of the struggle for my foots freedom but from the feel of it she was slowly making headway, and circulation was slowly returning. When she finally worked it free I had merely enough time to scream in surprise before a larger vine made its' way from behind her to tug her robes backwards and away from my risqué. "Rupert! Stop it at once! He's just a student! Your being ridiculous!" She stumbled backwards as the vine held tight to it's beloved human. Rupert, apparently, disagreed with her assessment of my threat. Many more smaller vines snakes out to hold the witch in place without so much as scratching her as the previously attacking one made haste to my neck and lifted me slightly off the ground. A retched scream left my lounges as I realised that I just might die from this territorial plant. Madam Sprout wiggling across from me, her dumpy little hands pulling at the non responsive vines holding her in place as she tried fruitlessly to reason with the murderous thing. "Rupert, I swear, he's just a student! You can't kill him! They'll fire me! We'll see how lonely you get once your all alone! Not many teachers would put up with this!"
Water started to sprout from my eyes and the beat of my heart was rushing through my ears. The rhythmic thumping seemed to make my face heavier with each rush against the insides of my ears and eyes, my toes just barely scraping the ground when Rupert suddenly dragged my gagging form from the room and threw me quite violently out the front door. I stumbled on the ground gasping for air as the vine retreated with a last flick, and I was once again left with the feeling that it had made some fauna type of rude gesture. A smash from a side window seconds later and my bag was tossed from the opening before a coverage of vines engulfed every opening and closed of the still tutting Professor inside. Clearly I was not welcome.
Slightly thankful that I had not fallen asleep with her 'darling' plants, I made my way back to the castle to sleep in a corridor instead. In the world of Hogwarts being homeless was better then being an orphan.