July 9th, 1895 - Hogwarts Greenhouses

"I really appreciate your help so that I could assist Mrs. Skeeter with this." Morwenna Skeeter was made of stronger stuff than Gemma could ever imagine, but even then, Gems knew that it must have been damn near impossible to bury a son and then go through his things to get rid of. Professor Skeeter had always been good to her, nurturing her fondness for plants and helping get her through what she needed to in order to become a successful herbologist. She sort of owed him her career, so this was the least she could do.

The greenhouses looked much the same as they had when she had been in school here, and it still felt oddly personal to go through Professor Skeeter's things like this, but she didn't want to dither either. Most of it was going to be left to the new herbology professor, it was just some of the personal things, his gardening gloves and tools, some of his things from his desk. She had to find Pepper too, who had been left to Professor Lissington, which I suppose helped that he was already here.

"I'm sorry Professor Lissington, I'll try and make it quick," she added, after a moment looking around the classroom with nostalgia. "I assume his inside spaces have been cleared out?" The house elves would have been tasked with taking care of that, she supposed. Mrs. Skeeter had said it was just a few things left at the school for her to pick up.

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Gus Lissington

  

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He felt like an intruder as he stood in the greenhouse, his heart already caught inside his throat. Gus knew he couldn’t avoid the space forever but he hadn’t expected to be standing here so soon. It felt like people were already trying to erase Mason from existence even if rationally he knew it was his family taking his belongings and doing whatever they did with items that belonged to the dead. Gus just wasn’t ready to be standing here.

At Miss Simpson’s voice, his stance softened. Gus gave a small nod. He didn’t trust himself to speak because he was entirely sure what he’d even say to her – don’t touch that, why are you here, he’s not really dead, is he? She was trying to be helpful and Gus was trying his best not to be in the way. Maybe he ought to look for Pepper so they could be out of here faster. Gus let out a small breath as he finally turned away from Ms. Simpson to poke at a giant leaf from a plant. Pepper wasn’t hiding there.

“No need to rush.” Gus finally said, glancing toward the back table, where some of the tools had been neatly lined up, others still scattered like they'd been dropped mid-lesson. He must have been organizing them. “And yeah. The house elves cleared most things out around and left…” He paused, swallowing around the lump in his throat. This wasn’t fair. “They left some personal things that I’m sure they didn’t know what to do with.” Maybe if he was lucky, Gus would walk away with something to remember him by.

He cleared his throat, voice still hoarse when he said, “It doesn’t feel right. Him not being here.”

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Nodding, Gemma pulled the list from the pocket of her trousers to start looking for the items that had been requested. "No, no, I don't want to be a bother, I'm sure you have plenty to do." Truthfully, if she lingered too long, she would tear up and Gemma hadn't cried in a long, long time. No need to start now.

"I'll take them with me, I'm sure Mrs. Skeeter will be looking for some things." Merlin it was so strange, his desk, as disorganized as she remembered as a student, half-covered in things that were likely only half-complete, like he would be in tomorrow to finish the tasks. "It's very strange." Gems agreed quietly, looking at the nearest plant with watery eyes. "I only had him from fifth year on, but it's hard to picture anyone else here." She had practically lived in the greenhouses during those last few years and he had always been there puttering around, working on his own plots, working on lessons, helping students.

Letting that fill the air for a moment, Gems checked her list and started looking through the drawers. She found a couple of things she needed to collect and paused as she remembered the cat again. "I'm supposed to ask you about Pepper." She passed him a wry sort of smile. "I can't take her and I don't think Mrs. Skeeter can either." The cat had been here at Hogwarts for so long it would be hard to relocate her. "Do you think she could stay here?" The large grumpy manx haunted the greenhouses, keeping an eye on pests and gnomes alike. Gems would hate to take her from her home.

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Gus nodded. It would be strange to picture anyone else in the greenhouse and he wasn’t sure he did want to see anyone else here. Not this year, at least. Of course that wasn’t feasible and it wasn’t fair to punish the students for his own heartache, so Gus kept those comments to himself, too. Whoever took over would have big shoes to fill, and much like Mason was a mentor to him his first year, hopefully he’d be the same to the new person.

When she mentioned Pepper, the corner of his mouth twitched. “I think it’d be wrong to move her. She’d never forgive us, and frankly I’m afraid of her enough as it is.” Not that was mean, Gus loved the cat, but he couldn’t imagine how well Pepper would take being moved somewhere she didn’t know. “She’s as much a part of this place as Mason was.” Gus swallowed hard, turning away from her for a moment. He hated speaking about Mason in the past tense.

Gus glanced at her a moment later. “Do you want a hand sorting?”

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This time Gemma sighed in relief. That was one thing to cross of her list. She didn't envy the job of keeping track of the cat, but was glad Pepper would get to stay where she was comfortable. If Gemma remembered right, she probably didn't have many years left anyway, this was the best case scenario. Hopefully it wouldn't be too much to add to the professor's plate.

"Ah sure," She nodded at the offer of assistance. "Mrs. Skeeter wanted his tools gathered, said there's an engraving of his initials on the handles?" It would make sense. They were a personal thing and it wouldn't do to leave them to the next person, unfortunately. Gemma had the sinking, suspicious feeling she was going to wind up with them, which was fine, it was lovely to think that he (or Mrs. Skeeter) would entrust her with them, but it also made her feel guilty. "And his gloves?" Those were quite worn and beloved, but were of value, she was sure.

There wasn't too much in the desk left for her to get. She was mostly looking for any personal correspondence that the new professor wouldn't need, though she was sure the house elves would also be set upon the classroom to set it up for Professor Skeeter's successor, this was probably easier in the long run. Gemma didn't mind doing this, it was just a little more heartbreaking the more she went through his things. "I take it you were friends?" Gems cast a sideways look at Professor Lissington with a sad smile.

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Nodding, Gus stepped closer to the desk, letting his hand rest light on the edge of it as his eyes scanned the items still remaining. He didn’t immediately see the gloves or tools, but that would defeat the purpose of helping Miss Simpson if they were just out in the open, huh? Gus reached past her to open a shallow drawer,finding nothing but quills and a handful of loose parchment inside of it, although he started to carefully shift aside some of the parchment to see if anything lay beneath it.

Gus let out a quiet breath, his gaze flicking to her, just to see her sad smile. “Yeah, we’re good friends. Were, at least.”The corner of his mouth twitched as he referred to Mason in the past tense – something that Gus still wasn’t used to. He hated it. Mason would never smile at him, or roll his eyes when Gus said something stupid, and Phil… oh, Phil was going to miss terrorizing him in the greenhouse.

Gus swallowed hard. “How’d you know him?” Gus asked after a beat. His eyes stayed on her, steady, although it was mostly because he couldn’t stand to keep rooting through a dead man’s things. “Was it here? Or before?”

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It was easier to think of Professor Skeeter in her own past and so she smiled at his question. "His first year was my fifth year here at school. I was a bit of a mess, not a very good student overall, but I did and still do, love herbology. I'm a herbologist by profession, now." She had been afforded some incredible opportunities, in part thanks to Professor Skeeter's patience and dedication. "He kept me busy, challenged in a way I hadn't been before and I found something I was good at besides flying." She'd always been a natural mover, learned better by doing (except Potions, that was a disaster), so it had really worked out that she had found this to turn into her life's passion.

"I don't envy being around here without him," she sighed softly. Professor Lissington would certainly have that added on and she was glad she did not. Even though she'd spent more time at Hogwarts without Professor Skeeter than with, he'd been there for her most important years and it was hard to even picture someone else in this space. "But I'm sure whoever steps in will do wonderfully." It was such a fun subject. If she had an sense of organization or even an inclination, she might have considered it herself, but Gemma was far too entrenched into her field work and travel that it really wasn't even an option.

Finished with the desk, she put the last of the things she'd collected into the crate she'd brought with her before moving into the cupboard on the closest wall.

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Gus leaned against the edge of the desk, letting her fill the space with her memories. Mason always had a knack for reaching the difficult students and his greenhouse had become a sanctuary for a lot of people; he wondered if it would remain like that, or if the new professor would put a stop to random students hanging around. When Miss Simpson mentioned not envying those who’d have to remain at Hogwarts without Mason, his jaw tightened just a fraction.

“It’s hard to imagine this place without him.” Mason had been one of the few reasons he’d stayed beyond his first year when he felt like he couldn’t (and wasn’t) doing anything right. His eyes drifted briefly toward the cupboard she was moving toward before he turned to root through a cabinet next to his desk. The door was jammed so he began working to wiggle it open. “I expect it’ll take more than a few months for the place to feel like it belongs to anyone else.”

It gave way, finally, although Gus winced at how loud it was when he yanked it open. “Did you ever consider applying for the position yourself?”

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Gemma could only nod; she did not envy anyone having to step into the position or those who remained here without Professor Skeeter. Professor Lissington was right, it would not feel the same.

At the question about applying, Gemma pulled a bit of a face. "Very briefly," she had, but knew she could not do the position the justice it deserved. Gemma was not inherently organized or all that good at explaining things and she wanted the students to have someone who could instill a love for the class in addition to the right academic knowledge. She could probably do the former, but not the latter. "I'm not built to teach, I like to travel and honestly, I'm not all that organized or good at explaining." Not to mention the paperwork or the lessons. Surely that was a lot of work. Gemma wouldn't even know where to start.

"I'm sure someone much more qualified would fit better." Gem smiled sheepishly. "Plus I'm not sure Headmaster Black would hire someone who started a food fight in the Great Hall in seventh year." Lestrange had deserved it.

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Gus nodded. He understood the desire to travel and see the world, and even though he’d settled into the position (and had to put down real roots, given that he had three children under his care now), the itch still crept up on him. He and Mason had gone to some exotic places together and that had been enough to scratch that itch – idly, now that he was gone, Gus wondered how he was going to keep himself yearning to go places. Maybe he’d take the kids to Russia to see where their mother had walked the streets over Christmas break. He hadn’t been there in a very long time.

“It really is a grind.” He hated the paperwork and still did his best to give out the least amount of written work he possibly could, simply because he didn’t want to grade it. Gus leaned more to the practical side, because what good was learning a spell if you didn’t learn how to put it into use? Being able to say an incantation and flick your wand didn’t mean that the spell was going to go exactly how it was planned. Maybe it was a little different for Herbology, but he hadn’t ever really had the desire to learn it in depth.

He laughed then before he shook his head. “I bet a food fight is the least of what Black’s has had to overlook over the years.” If he went around blacklisting every student who’d caused a scene in the hall, well, half of them wouldn’t be allowed back after their first year. As he spoke, Gus pulled out what he thought might be the shears they were looking for. Gus set them on top of the cabinet before he started to root toward the bottom.

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Gemma was sure she'd made the right decision; she might have thought about how much it would mean to Professor Skeeter, but the follow through would have been disappointing. As much as Gemma loved herbology, she didn't want to get burnt out on it either. That was what she loved about her current path, the travel, the new places, new people, new experiences, it was never boring.

"I should have tried harder then." She smirked. In truth, Gem had never specifically tried to be a pain in anyone's ass; it had just come naturally, she was sure. Plus, Lestrange had deserved it. He really had. (It had been accidental, but she hadn't felt bad about it at all, and he'd retaliated!)

There wasn't much in the cupboard besides supplies, and so Gem moved back to check her list. It looked like Professor Lissington had found the shears, so she added them to the box. "I don't mind finishing up, if you have other things to do." She was grateful for his help, but if this was too hard, she could finish up on her own.

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