7th year played by flu.
Group: BRAVE LION
Member No.: 21
Joined: 11-August 11
[Sorry, I wanted to get something up, but haven't had much time, so I used my sample, hope that's okay! I definitely want to get some Lily stuff rolling though, and should have another open thread up soon! It's just been a little hectic here. Hopefully this can get things started. C:]
According to One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by the esteemed Phyllida Spore, dittany claimed a long history of use for its magical qualities. Historically, it had been used for ailments from digestive upset to healing wounds and preventing scarring. Of course, the passage about dittany was one that Lily Evans was well acquainted with. Oh yes, the book had a very detailed account of what Lily assumed must be every instance that dittany had ever been used in the entire history of the magical world. However, what the book did not include was a detailed account of how to properly grow and cultivate the plant. No. That would have been all entirely too useful. If she had wanted a history of dittany, she would have asked Professor Binns, not consulted a herbology book, which should theoretically, in fact, be about herbs and not, in fact, history. Herbology. The study of herbs. But how was she supposed to study or utilize the herb if she couldn’t get it to grow?
It wasn’t as if she really expected it to grow within one day. Or two. Or three. Or six. Even she knew that the art of growing plants was subject to the element of time. And so Lily came to the greenhouses. Every day. She even had special permission to come after classes--and a note to prove it—a note kept meticulously next to her budding dittany should anyone feel the need to question her reasons for being here without a professor present. But it had been two months now and surely there should have been more in the stupid little pot than a tiny little sprig with one frail little leaf, curling over towards the soil. There had to be something wrong with it. Yes. Something wrong with it. There was nothing wrong with her. She had done everything right. Not that there were instructions to follow, no, none of the textbooks provided anything as useful as instruction, but there were certain elements of growing plants that held true for all plants and she had made sure to execute them all with absolute perfection. Sunlight. Plenty of but not too much. Water. Fill to just above the soil line and replenish when the soil quality becomes less damp. And love. She loved the plant. Of course she did. She spoke to it every time she came. Come on little plant, you can do it, you’re doing great, perfectly great, grow just a little more, growalittlemorebeforeIwrenchyououtofthepot, and throw you against the glass, little plant.
Patience. Patience was probably one of the most important, if not THE most important quality for someone wishing to successfully grow a plant, to possess. Lily Evans never did have any patience. Sinking back away from the counter, Lily turned her gaze outside, brushing the hair off of her face with a dragon gloved hand, and leaving a small smear of soil (yes she would prefer to call it soil as if she decided to use its true name, dragon dung, she would have to run to the sink immediately) across her forehead. The greenhouses were stifling. Kept at proper, warm, and humid temperatures throughout the year. Merlin forbid herbology follow the seasons. A heavy sigh collapsed her chest, a shiver radiating down her spine as she stared at the snow coating the grounds outside, tracing along the curves of each branch. It seemed unnatural to be sitting with her coat off, hat, mittens and scarf draped over one of the stools, socks pushed down around her ankles, cheeks tinged pink from the heat, while there was snow lying in perfect white waves all around her. Another oddity of the magical world.
With a huff, she turned her attention back to the plant in front of her. It didn’t look any different. In fact, it looked worse. Could a plant really look worse after only several minutes? Slumping forward, she eyed it carefully. Surely there was someway to save it. Something she could do. She had to do something. Had to keep going. Had to stay busy. Had to be the best. The halls of Hogwarts were becoming murkier by the second. More and more comments were being made about muggle borns and their validity. Still hushed, whispered, but lurking in the corridors, trailing after her and the others, never really fading away. A soft murmur in the air, thick. Well. She would silence them. Not that she had anything to prove. The idea that she had something to prove only gave the preposterous ideas credibility. No. She would just continue to be at the top of the class. As she always had been. Just…maybe not in herbology. Lily wrinkled up her nose, several strands of hair falling back into her face, and reached down for her wand, angling the tip just beneath the little leaf. “Grow, grow, grow,” she groaned. Bloody. Grow.