1995-02-24: As The Years Turn


Aelwen_icon.gif Jackson_icon.gif

Scene Title As the Years Turn
Synopsis Jax offers to remedy Aelwen's not-enough-free-time problem.
Location Greenhouses
Date February 24, 1995
Logger Jax

[HGW] - Greenhouses

The Herbology classes of Hogwarts are taught in a series of greenhouses located out off the main courtyard. From the outside, these greenhouses look like any old greenhouse you would find in someone's garden. The structures are made from glass and metal, of course they are magically enhanced to prevent breakage as well as controlling the inner temperatures. Depending upon your class year depends upon which greenhouse you study in. The contents of these rooms almost appear normal, save for oddly colored foliage that occasionally try to teeth on passing students. Tables and shelving units containing the smaller plants are set up in neat rows, while larger plants occupy corners in their own pots and personal space. Some of these errr, miracles of nature are quite volatile. Arranged down the center aisle are a series of tables for students to work at.

Outside the weather is blustery and freezing, but in the greenhouses the environment is pleasantly warm. Class has recently finished, in one classroom, and most of the younger students who were attending have left. One tiny Hufflepuff first-year lingers at his table, a sketchpad open in front of him rather than any work. Jax has pruning shears that have, evidently, been used to trim a flutterby bush that is nearby, but for now he is just staring at the bush with a rather daydreamy expression.

"I can't believe our O.W.Ls' are right around the corner." Aelwen can be heard commenting as a troupe of fifth years start gathering in the greenhouse. Moving towards the flutterby busy, she blinks suddenly, and grins. "Flutterbys? Wow, I hope we're not going over them again…" Another voice, in the back, chimes up; "Probably not, I think the First years just left." Gently parting the leaves of the the trimmed bush, Aelwen peers. "Hellooo, out there?"

Jax blinks in slight surprise as his bush starts speaking to him. "Hi! Gosh. I hope my scissors didn't hurt you none." He hops off his stool and takes a step towards the bush. His brow creases as he peers back through the leaves, and he grins brightly a moment later. "Oh! /Hello/. You're not a bush at all, are you? That makes a lot more sense, really."

Aelwen laughs. "I'm not hurt, no." The fifth year walks around the table to pear at Jackson, with a grin. "You may want to hurry, unless you've got the afternoon off…" She says, wryly. "You've still got a bit though before the bell rings, so." She shrugs, then. "First year?" she asks. "I haven't done Flutterby bushes in ages…. since our review, anyways."

"I like them! They're — twitchy." Jax pokes at one of the fluttering leaves of the bush. "And pretty." He scoops his sketchpad up off the table — a rendition of the bush has been sketched on the page in a rather skilled hand, the inky leaves of the sketch quivering just like its real-life counterpart. "First-year, yes, miss. I'm Jax. You were on my team yesterday!" He brightens still further as he recalls this, and his cheer doesn't diminish as he adds: "We lost after you left."

Aelwen groans. "I always knew having George as a chaser was no good. Tell me, who'd they get to replace me, Ginny?" She inquires, wryly. "I can't blame you for losing though, having to switch out Seekers. I'm Aelwen, Gryffindor, fifth year." She notes.

"Ginny, yeah. She had one of those terrible school brooms too though. Bean had a great one. The school ones go all wonky at inconvenient times. She crashed into me and we almost fell to the ground and /died/," Jax informs Aelwen with earnest exaggeration, "but then we just got all bruisey instead. I never realized how violent Quidditch is! Do you play much?"

Aelwen grins. "I'm on the sub-list as a Chaser since I started going out for the team three years ago." She says, placidly. "Which is when I started my electives." One of the other fifth-years, in the background, quips; "You mean since you gave up fun, Aelwen?" Aelwen winces. "Taking ten classes doesn't give me a lot of free time."

"Woo-oah." Jax's eyes widen, impressed. "/Ten/? I have my hands full with seven! What do you want to do when you get out of here?" His nose crinkles as his smile widens. "Hopefully something that gives you a bit of free time. It sounds like you need to catch up."

Aelwen places her hands on her hips, an impish smiles on her face. "I happen to know that whatever I do I will be good at it." She says, giggling. "Auror, magical catastrophes, a Healer…" She shrugs lightly.

"You're going to make catastrophes?" Jax bounces slightly on his toes. "I'm good at making catastrophes already and I've hardly studied at /all/! It's a natural talent."

Aelwen groans. "No, my job would be fixing yours, Mister Natural Disaster." She says, firmly. "Trust me, it's better that way." She smiles, and rubs her forehead lightly. "I miss seven classes."

"Oh." Jax's forehead crinkles. "/Fixing/ them." His expression suggests this is a novel idea to him. He tilts his head to one side, peering up at Aelwen thoughtfully. "We could switch," he offers lightly, "but somehow I think your teachers would notice if you mysteriously shrunk nearly a foot and turned into a boy. Maybe."

Aelwen says dryly, "I wouldn't even want to pull that trick on our Headmaster, much leass the Head of my House. Professor Mcgonagall is liable to make me stay a boy, and we won't go into what Professor Sprout can do." She giggles.

"It's not so bad being a boy." Jax grins teasingly. "I bet you'd get used to it. I think it'd be fun trying out being a girl for a while. I don't think I could keep up with your homework yet though."

Aelwen lightly taps Jax's nose. "I have my O.W.Ls at the end of the year, as well. You SURE you want to go through those?" It's a challenege! "However, I don't envy you first years. Life was easy."

Jax's nose crinkles again at the tapping. "Wellllll," he says, "I think I'd fail O.W.L.s miserably. But I'd be failing them in your name!" he adds with a laugh. "So it'd just be a good practice run. By the time I'm /really/ your year I'd ace them! But then you'd be a poor penniless dropout begging on the streets of Hogsmeade for spare Knuts so you can get your next Firewhisky, all cuz a silly Firstie failed your exams for you."

Aelwen wriggles her nose. "Which is exactly why it's not happening, Hufflepuff." she says. "I like my grades, thank you." She says, grinning. "I don't plan on failing my O.W.Ls, not at all."

Jax scuffs his fingers through his hair and giggles, too. "Good! It'd be sad if you did. But I'd give you some knuts if I saw you begging," he says impishly. "It'd be the least I could do."

Aelwen grins. "I wouldn't beg. I have my own account at Gringotts." She says. "Plus a broom!" She is pleased with this. "So, see, I wouldn't need to beg."

Jax's eyes brighten, excited. "Your /own/ broom? That's so awesome." He looks a little wistful. "One day, maybe. I'd never even /ridden/ one before coming here." He fidgets, shifting restlessly from one foot to the other and back. "I didn't even know kids could have their own bank accounts," he admits sheepishly. "— Are you rich?"

Aelwen shakes her head. "Not really. I was playing with my mum's Cleansweep Five and I JUST got my Nimbus 2000 over this past summer." She sighs.

"Coooool. See, if you switched places with me for a day, you'd even have lots of free time to enjoy your awesometastic new broom!" Jax says, smile wide and playful as he bounces slightly on his toes.

Aelwen grins. "No I wouldn't, cause then it would be YOUR broom." Aelwen points out the flaw in Jacksons' logic."

Jax's nose crinkles in brief puzzlement, and then he laughs. "Then /I/ would skip class to enjoy /my/ awesome new broom!" he says, hands clapping together. "/Even better/!"

Aelwen laughs. "No thank you." She says, firmly.

Jax laughs, too. And then looks abruptly alarmed when he notices how full the room has gotten. "— Eep, I'd better get going or I /will/ be skipping class!" The worry in his expression suggests he isn't /really/ as much a slacker as he's been joking about. He hitches his bag up onto his shoulder and wiggles his fingers in a wave. "Bye!" he chirrups brightly.

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