November 10th, 1892 - Hogwart's Greenhouses
Millie Potts

Mason had gone through a fair few Potts sisters and cousins during his tenure at Hogwarts, so having to ask the youngest, Miss Millie, to come in to make up some work was unusual. It was rare he needed to help one of them in his class, they always seemed to excel naturally, given their family proclivity for it, but he supposed it did not have to be that way for all of them. If he remembered right, Miss Dahlia had not been so overtly interested either. He couldn't fault them, everybody needed their own enjoyment after all.

He had a couple of other students working on projects in Greenhouse Three, between his classes that afternoon as the mid-November sunlight filtered in through the roof, warming up the greenhouse nicely in the oncoming chill of winter. Miss Bixby and her cohort were working with their fanged geraniums at the moment and he was keeping a wary eye out for bites. This batch of the red flowers seemed to be extra bitey. He was sorting some supplies for his next lesson, with his attention half on the gaggle of sixth years, when he heard the door creak open and the young Ravenclaw arrived.

"Miss Potts, thank you for coming. I wanted you to take another look at your shrivelfig assignment before they shed fully for the winter." The class had been working on correctly harvesting and peeling the fruits to be used in potion making and Mason wanted her to have another go at it to see if she needed more instruction or if it was something else. He had a new shrivelfig on a table with all of the necessary tools for her to use to redo the assignment.

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   Millie Potts

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magic by MJ the magnificent

Hurried footsteps tramped through the frosted undergrowth of the grounds. The grass refused to die even this late in the season, and it made her wince to hear some of the louder crunches from under her boots. It couldn't be helped, and she clung tighter to the books in her arms to pick up the pace. It wasn't her free hour and she had to hurry, the third year had only convinced her Charms professor to let her go early once she had demonstrated the day's assignment to satisfaction.

Millie needed all the time she could get to make up her Herbology assignment.

"BeggingyourpardonProfessor,thiswastheonlytimeIcouldgetaway." The explanation came out hurried from breathless lungs, her mouth dry from the exertion and the chill in the November air. Millie pressed the books against her stomach, quelling the growing urge to hiccup, taking long, quiet breaths to leave room for the professor's explanation. He didn't look put off at all by her rapid appearance, getting quickly to the task at hand. A diligent nod came from her chin as she grasped his meaning, and her eyes found the waiting materials before glancing back to Professor Skeeter.

Herbology was not always her best class, despite her family's reputation otherwise. Millie willed herself to stand straight, rather than shrinking down as she had in the past years, withering easily under the professor's towering height or expectant gaze. The young lady knew by now that she wasn't the best Potts girl to have sat in his classroom, she had tried to come at a time when her cousin wouldn't be there for comparison. On her own, with enough time to spend on the assignment, maybe Millie could live up to her family's famous green thumb at last.

"Thank you, Professor, I—" She looked at the plant again, it was in far better shape than she had kept hers this term. Her eyes sank to the floor, betrayed by the reminder of her last attempt at the assignment. It was all she could do not to live in the memory of a moment at home, when Millie had been younger and more fascinated by the Herbologist work her father did. When he came back after setting her to cut the blooms from a cutting of Moly flowers, he had just laughed and scooped up the ill-prepared pile of petals separated from their stems and pistil both.

At the time, Millie thought her father had enjoyed her clever approach to the task. When he never asked her to help with it again, she took a different view of the experience. Now, faced with Professor Skeeter's offer, Millie held a chance to truly redeem herself. The new plant was a fresh start, and one she was going to do her best at harvesting and peeling the fruits this time.

No, not her best.

She brought her gaze up to the table again, taking full view of the scope of her promise. "I'll do better this time."

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Mason was not one of the professors who could instill fear into any of his students (except that group that had put the mandrake in Gus' office) and so when students started acting some kind of nervous around him, he never knew quite what to do. Besides Gus, he was probably one of the more affable professors, so when students got flustered with him, he felt awkward.

"Not a problem, Miss Potts, I know everyone is busy with the end of the term approaching next month." He had a ton of grading to do himself and he needed to start getting their final exams for the term set up. It was a never ending cycle really and truthfully he was never actually caught up on grading. Ever.

Refocusing on the student before him, Mason pass her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'm sure you can handle it. Do you have your notes, or would you like me to demonstrate?" Generally Mason preferred the students try for themselves without him giving too many pointers, it was a good way to learn, especially with things like this where the kids really needed to get the feel of some of the actions of taking apart the fruits. He'd always been the kind of student who needed to learn by doing, and each of them was different, but so far he'd had pretty good luck with these sorts of lessons.

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   Gus Lissington, Millie Potts

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magic by MJ the magnificent

Sturdier breath reverberated in her chest at the professor's graceful patience, allowing her a caution's worth of respite. She managed a glance toward him, though it disappeared with a solemn nod. Winter finals drew nearer with every passing week, making it critical that Millie was caught up with the work she had so far. And if Herbology was not a class the young lady received a good mark on next month, it would deal her a crushing blow.

She refused to be the one to tarnish the Potts family name in that manner.

"Thank you, sir." Millie loosened her grip, bracing the books on one arm so she could rifle through them with another. Withdrawing one slim notebook, she set it on top and pried it open to the correct page. Her notes were full of additions with a few cross-ed out lines, courtesy of borrowing notes from her roommate, Philomena, for the day in question. "I should have everything in my notes now."

That had been her error in the first place, not taking the right notes. Professor Skeeter had demonstrated already once to the class, on a day when Millie found herself bored by the material. Had her parents not done this a hundred times in front of her at home? The young lady was so sure she could replicate the results by memory alone, she simply forgot they weren't her memories to rely upon. The finished product she turned in did not at all resemble her classmates assignments.

"The shrivelfigs must be pinched off the stems, not cut," she read aloud, squinting at some of the words she had written hastily. "And wearing gloves, since the fruit skins will stain otherwise. Then..." Millie read some more, and nodded. This is where she had gone all wrong during class. "the fruits must be peeled, not sliced," she added for the benefit of her own reminder, "and any runoff juice collected with the fruit."

Millie looked up, hoping to judge her accuracy from the professor's reaction. She didn't look past to the sixth years chattering away over their fanged geraniums, or down to her boots this time. The only way she was going to learn was by getting real feedback.

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Mason nodded along as Miss Potts read her notes back to herself. He wasn't going to hover, he found that didn't help, but if she asked he would certainly help keep her on track. He did prefer they try for themselves where applicable, it was the best way to learn. That repetitive practice gave them more confidence.

Mason continued to putter around the next table, preparing for his next lesson while Miss Potts prepared herself for the shrivelfig. It was a bit messy, but not entirely too complicated. It would be on their practical exam however, and was often included in OWLs, so he wanted to make sure they were prepared. "Peeling is better, but you can start with a little slice near the top to get it started." He suggested as he sorted the pots and trowels for the incoming first and second years.

"All of the things you need are in that crate there," He motioned to the small crate he had set aside for the task at hand. Mason had learned over the years to give them all the tools they needed to succeed, including the know-how, but it was entirely up to them to make it work.

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   Millie Potts

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magic by MJ the magnificent

So she hadn't been completely off!

Fulfilling breath renewed the young witch, who even managed a smile at the notes in her hand. Her gaze stayed fixed there, only a finger moving to tap the line as a reminder to herself. Millie's head bobbed a few times as she noted the tools she needed, only looking up after a moment to realize that the professor was still standing there. "Oh, thank you Professor."

Millie hurried to get to work, head down to avoid the gaze she felt on her crimson cheeks. Her thoughts steadied a bit once she had all her tools gathered and her gloves on, ready to start her work. The young witch had been prepared to abandon all of the intuition gleaned from working closer in her mother's kitchen until the advice from Professor Skeeter. With an eager slice on the top of a shrivelfig she had pinched from the stem, Millie started peeling the rest of it. The gloves on her hands made the work more tedious than slicing, though the first slice gave her fingers a reliable place to start.

She checked her notes as she carried through the first fruit, focused intently on the goal. Millie needed this better grade and, as she grasped the next fruit still on the stem, she felt much closer to it now than the moment she had entered the greenhouse.

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It seemed as though Miss Potts was on her way now and so Mason, after she thanked him, moved around the table to spread out the gloves the second years would need for their lesson later that afternoon. Normally their dragonhide gloves would be fine, but he tended to assume students would either forget or may want the kind he had with the extra insulation.

"Bixby if that geranium gets you, I will not plead your case to the matron." He huffed out with a laugh as he watched the Gryffindor almost get bitten by her fanged plant. It wouldn't be too bad, but as Bixby was wont to do, she wasn't paying too much attention to what she was doing. Luckily, as he was pretty sure she worked hard in most of her other classes, thanks to the elder Miss Potts' assistance, she didn't seem to do poorly in his class at least.

He cast an eye back on the young Ravenclaw and her shrivelfig, but she seemed to be doing alright now, paying close attention to her notes. He didn't want to disrupt her, so continued to putter about setting up his lesson.

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   Millie Potts

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magic by MJ the magnificent

Millie tried to work diligently, with caution in every step to get it right. The young witch tried not to think of the shorter time she had to complete her work, when the current class of sixth years was done she had to move on as well. The gloves made it difficult, but as she set down the second fruit, peeled and oozing juice into its collection jar, she took a moment to allow herself a satisfying grin at the outcome.

Halfway now, there were only a couple more to do. She pinched the next fruit off its vine, then glanced down at it with a wary, hazel eye. It squished easily in her palm, its delicate skin threatening to break and squirt its juice all over her if she pressed too hard. Millie might have set it aside as too ripe in class, here she needed all the points she could get. With a dragging sound from the back of her throat, she positioned it over its collection jar and got to work.

Carefully, very carefully, Millie managed to peel about half the shrivelfig before her fingers felt numb inside her gloves. One of the peels broke as it came away, leaving most of it still stuck on the fruit. She hated shrivelfigs, she decided, hated them and their awful skins and their dangerous juices.

The young witch shook off one of her gloves, using her fingernails to pull the rest of the peel from the fruit. It didn't come away cleanly, spattering her hand and the cuff of her robes with the juice. Millie stared at them, hazel eyes haunted by the sight, trying desperately hard not to cry. She so wanted to cry!

Instead, Millie swallowed and put the peeled fruit in its jar. Discarding the other glove bitterly, she grabbed the final fruit with her bare hands, hating it even more now. She only had a few grains of the hourglass left, so it was time to work quickly. Dabbing at the corner of an eye with her wrist, the young witch got to work again, even if it ruined her robe's sleeves.

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Mason had gotten caught up in his preparation and keeping a leery eye on the sixth years mucking about that by the time he noticed what had happened with Miss Potts, it was too late. "Bixby out, you have class soon." He dismissed the Gryffindor with an uncharacteristically stern eye and she was wise enough to skedaddle.

"Miss Potts, why don't you slow down," He softened his tone for the young Ravenclaw, approaching the table once more to find the shrivelfig mostly harvested, but her hands and sleeves were stained purple from the juice and Mason was concerned for the moisture in her eyes. Mason crouched so he was more eye-level with the table, leaning his arms flat on the edge as he passed her a more reassuring smile.

He wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but he assumed she had gotten frustrated and Mason was absolutely no good with upset teenage girls. None whatsoever. "Take a deep breath, you can stop there." He added, thinking he had seen enough to boost her grade.

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   Millie Potts

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magic by MJ the magnificent

"Miss Potts, why don't you slow down?"

Purple juice dripped from the young witch's hands, leaving deep, bruise-like stains where it ran. Her arms wiggled, tempting the delicate balance between shuffling her sleeves away from further ruin and inviting it to run right up inside them instead! Catching her elbows on her side, Millie finally found enough purchase to drag her ruined sleeves to relative safety high on her arms. Frantic eyes turned up to meet her professor's, and for a moment the young witch held her lips in a tight line.

His face filled her view, and for a moment the young witch rocked back on her heels. Uncertainty plagued her mind, holding her hands hostage. The shrivelfig remained frozen in her palm, dripping onto the table until his gentle words stirred her into motion again. Millie obeyed instinctively, filling her lungs with life-giving air, and set the fruit down in its jar.

"Did I—?" The Ravenclaw girl found herself suddenly aware of the quiet between them, and in the greenhouse itself. Her eyes darted to the tables where the Gryffindor class had been tending projects, widening at their vacant surroundings. Her lungs held onto its breath for dear life, a life that would soon be ended if she wasn't at her next class on time. Millie wished desperately that the professor would say something, or do something.

Or just look away so she could pack her things and hurry back up to the castle.

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Mason moved slowly, taking the juiced shrivelfig from Miss Potts gently and setting it down in a nearby tray. He the retrieved a clean towel and mopped up his now-purple hands. That was easily taken care of, but there was no sense in cleaning them now as they would only get dirtier in his next class anyway.

Instead he passed it to Miss Potts. "That was much better, you're getting the hang of it." He assured her softly. "Let's get you cleaned up before you set off. You have a few minutes." The walk back, if taken quickly, wouldn't be more than 5 to get back to the castle itself, it just depended on where she was to have to go from there.

"Would you like me to take care of your sleeves?" He would hate for her to get it any trouble with the etiquette teacher for having stained robes. Not that it was all that visible on the black, but it would be uncomfortably sticky too, he knew.

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magic by MJ the magnificent

With her burdens lifted from her hands, Millie let herself breathe again. It took a moment for her to come back to her senses, taking the towel from the professor when she did. Her lips hesitated with the question of a smile, perhaps a word of thanks, something to show her gratitude. Instead, the young witch quietly wiped off her hands, dabbing at the stains on her sleeve.

The towel turned a light shade of lavender as she worked, with sleeves that still carried the stubborn stain of the shrivelfig's juices. Millie kept at it, with her expression turning more and more dour until she looked, exasperated, up to the man's kindly eyes. He seemed to sense that his words weren't having much effect on the flustered third year, and she heard him better the second time he made a suggestion.

"Would you like me to take care of your sleeves?"

Millie gazed at the professor numbly for a moment. She was almost resigned to it now, it was one less set of robes she'd be able to wear until the holidays. If she could make it through the rest of the day without becoming the talk of the third years, that is. Her eyes traced over the stains on her sleeves, and then lifted back to the professor with a renewal of hope.

"Could you? I didn't know what spell to try, and we aren't going to get to household spells 'til next year in Charms, I think." Her eyes fell again, hoping this wasn't another test or assignment. "I could just go to the library, I'm sure there's a book on it to learn from..." No, she decided, the professor's words trickling back to her. He'd already assessed her work as improved, and none of her teachers had ever played pranks with grades like that. Millie didn't know what possessed her to think such things, and she stopped talking before Professor Skeeter really did find something to mark her off on.

Hope flooded through the young witch as she offered her sleeves up to the professor, letting them open to their full length to reveal some of the stains as high as her elbow. She nearly blushed again at the sight, nerves tickling the urge to giggle at the misfortune, holding back if only to wait for the relief she would feel when it all vanished away in a moment or two.

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Mason was very familiar with dirt and stains. He could clean just about anything these days, whether it was magically or the with a little elbow grease, he was quite capable. Of course it came from a place of practice, he was particularly messy when he was working in or on the greenhouses.

"Not a problem," Mason waved his wand slowly over her robes, sucking the shrivelfig juice from the fabric easily enough. "There we go, all set." He passed her another reassuring smile as he stowed his wand back into his pocket. "I spill a lot of things, have a lot of practice with that one." He chuckled good-naturedly. Herbology was messy and fun, it was supposed to be hands-on and practical, there was no avoiding the inevitable smears of dirt and plant extracts.

Mason then checked his pocket watch, pleased to see Phil hadn't nicked it yet. Gus' new niffler was going to be a pesky little miscreant, Mason just knew it. "I'll clean this up, I don't want you running behind to your next class. Nice work today Miss Potts." It had gone a little askew at the end, but had been been an improvement from the time before that. A little more practice and she would be able to do it in her sleep. 'I'll see you in class tomorrow."

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   Millie Potts

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magic by MJ the magnificent

The spell washed over her as a bitter relief, scrubbing her robes clean of the deep colors from the shrivelfig. Her professor smiled at the ease of it all, but all Millie wanted to do now was cry. She tipped her eyes quickly, biting her lip as she gathered up her things. Her head nodded as the professor continued, fearing she might bleed before he was all done with her.

"Mhmmm, she managed, slinging the bag over her shoulder. The young witch turned away from the table, her grades reassured but her temperament uncertain. Why was she so upset at a little stain? She picked up her feet, hurrying quickly from the greenhouse, setting herself back on the way to her next class. Her feet nearly tumbled over each other as her head swam, floundering without an answer from her heart.

Remedial lessons in Herbology was bad enough, but to embarrass herself in front of Professor Skeeter like that? He knew exactly what the Potts were capable of, and Millie had done whatever she could to prove that wrong today. It didn't make sense why the class didn't come as easy to her as it did to her siblings, much less her perfect cousins. Never again, Millie decided, she was never going to get to that point again in Herbology.

Even if she had to find a tutor, or ask Calla for help. She'd bite that wand, and whatever else came with it to make certain she wasn't embarrassing her family anymore. Or herself.

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