January 29th, 1892 - Hogwarts Greenhouses
Gus Lissington

Mason had been at Hogwarts near a a decade now and while he thought he'd be used to it by now, he was still surprised by the students and often. At least the greenhouses were consistent. In the quiet of an empty classroom after a long day of teaching first years, Mason was setting up for tomorrow's lessons. Snow felt gently outside, coating the tops of the greenhouse, making it unusually dim, but it would melt off by tomorrow he was sure. The heat within generally helped it slide right off the glass panes.

Despite the chill outside, Mason had his sleeves rolled up as he moved pots and bags of soil around. Pepper lounged on his desk watching him. Damn cat only came about when there were no children. At least she kept the pests out of the greenhouses themselves. He felt like she was mocking him, just laying there, but he had too much to do to pay her much attention. "You could help you know," He muttered to her as he summoned the student trowels from the cupboard and had them line themselves up on the work stations.

Dinner had to be nearly over at this point, but Mason wanted to get as much done in preparation as he could tonight, in case he had to spend his morning moving snow about so the students could get to class. The fatigue settled into his bones though and he knew he would have to call it quits sooner rather than later. The opening of the door and subsequent icy blast from the air outside had him looking up, hoping it wasn't a student he needed to shoo back up the castle. It was only Gus though and Mason raised a dirty hand in salute. "Lissington," He greeted as he wiped his brow with his handkerchief. "Need something?"

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It had been a long time since Gus had seen the snow; he’d stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of a corridor when he’d seen the white flakes falling outside coating the grounds in a thin layer. It had been memorizing to watch for a few minutes before he’d made up his mind that he wanted to walk in it - a thought he immediately regretted as the cold air hit him when he stepped outside, snowflakes sticking against his hair. He tucked his nose into his scarf and kept walking. Being outside, even if it was cold, was much better than being inside.

As he walked, he decided he didn’t like the snow; it made him miss the warmth of Egypt even if being inside tombs could be stifling. Gus inhaled deeply as he stopped, blinking at the greenhouse his feet had taken him to. Perhaps it was time to talk to Mason; while they’d spoken offhand a few times, Gus had never voiced how much he was doubting himself to well, anyone. It wasn’t often he thought before he acted, and he knew that had to change to a degree. But he knew the other had been a professor for some time; perhaps he could offer some tips or would tell him it was time to throw in the towel and find something else.

Taking the last few steps forward, Gus opened the door where he hummed happily at the warmth the greenhouse offered. Gus could feel his fingers thawing. He grinned at him as he nodded his head. “Evenin’ Skeeter,” He greeted, pulling the door shut behind him. Gus ran his fingers through his hair before he laughed quietly under his breath; he needed a lot of things. He paused for a moment before he flicked his eyes up to him, his grin faltering. “When does it get easier? Because I had no idea what I was getting myself into.”

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Mason Skeeter

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Mason chuckled to himself; he wasn't laughing at Gus, it was just he could remember the exact feelings overwhelming him during his first year of teaching. "The first year is the hardest," He nodded, grabbing a nearby rag to wipe off his hands. "It gets easier the further you get into it. Although, almost a decade in myself and I still find myself wondering what I'm doing." It was meant to be reassuring; none of them ever really had their stuff completely together all of the time.

"Once you get through everything once it starts coming along. Just save what you do. Organization is your friend." He hadn't been too good with it when he first started either, but by his third or fourth year he'd started keeping his lessons a little more neatly organized in his desk and it was a life-saver. "Anything specific I can try to help with?" Mason didn't mind. He was no expert obviously, but he'd been here for a while and seemed to handle things well enough.

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magic by MJ the magnificent

Sighing, Gus shifted to lean against the door; it was nice to know that he wasn’t alone in this, even if he felt like he was drowning. “Thanks. I hope when I’m a decade in I’m not as lost. I was going to have a Hinkypunk to show my students but it ah… kind of got away from me.” He couldn’t help but grimace at that; it had been a terrible situation overall and having Foxwood be the one to stumble upon it had been the cherry on top.

Then he nodded. Organization, a thing he knew nothing about. His desk was a mess, his classroom could look better and he didn't even want to begin to describe what his personal quarters looked like. Gus laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? The first years terrify me. They stare at me and I stare at them. I guess I’m not sure how to… bond with them? They’re the ones I’ll be seeing the most and I don’t think I’ve taught them anything yet.”

Dropping his hand from his neck and standing straight, Gus grinned sheepishly at Mason. “I don’t think I can take another week of awkward silences followed by me laughing. They probably think I’m crazy.”

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Mason Skeeter

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   Basil Foxwood

Nodding along, Mason moved a few more things around the room in preparation before straightening up and wiping his brow with his sleeve. "The first years, as well as the first year are definitely the hardest. I think it's hard to forget how young they are and how varied their backgrounds can be, but your class is generally fascinating to them, so at least you have that allure going for you." Mason sometimes had that going for him as well, but not always. The more practical classes seemed to go well with the young ones.

"I try to start with a demonstration of something interesting, keep the lecture short and then let them work with their hands. Has served me pretty well." At least with the first and second years. Their attention spans were so short he tried to keep the class divided up so they were moving. "I'm not expert though." Even now, Mason realized things could always be tweaked, done differently, depending on the class and the students.

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magic by MJ the magnificent

Gus just laughed as he watched Mason; Defense Against the Dark Arts was certainly alluring in some aspects - he certainly wouldn’t have taken the job if it couldn’t keep his attention. Still, he figured he could handle that with the first and second years; teaching them easier spells was where he’d planned on starting, and hopefully from there he’d get to know them. “Well, you’re an expert to me.” He mumbled. Thank goodness Mason was here to put up with him.

He found himself nodding. “Ay, I have a Boggart lined up for the fourth and fifth years to see but ah…” He paused before he rubbed the back of his head, his head tilting toward the ceiling of the greenhouse. “I don’t want things to get out of hand. Hell, I’m not quite sure I want them to see what I’m afraid of.” That was hard to explain to a bunch of young kids, and truthfully he wasn’t entirely sure what it’d be. He hadn’t faced a boggart in years; too bad the hinkypunk didn’t work out because he could have shown that with ease.

Gus sighed as he turned to look at Mason, wondering briefly if he wanted any help setting up; thinking better of it for the moment (he’d never been too good at Herbology), he rubbed the back of his head. “What about the seventh years? They’re… I don’t know. Bored? The lassies are all banding together. They wanted to learn how to stupify each other non verbally but ah… I’m not that dumb. I won’t be responsible for that happening around here.” Truthfully, they were kind of mean. But he wasn’t going to be bullied by a bunch of seventh year girls.

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Mason Skeeter

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The midyears were the easiest ones to occupy, in Mason's opinion, eager to try new things, be challenged. They could handle the age-appropriate tasks, the wee ones struggled with that. "Boggart's a good idea," Seemed like something the students could get into. At the mention of the seventh year girls, Mason could only grimace.

"They're a bunch," Mason pulled a face and shook his head. "I feel like this time last year, they were practising patronus charms possibly?" Mason wasn't very good at keeping up with what the other professors were doing, but he did hear talk when the students were in the greenhouses working. "Create some sort of obstacle course for review?" His NEWT students had semester-long projects to work on, so they were honestly his easiest batch to work with, but he could see why Gus wasn't quite to sure what to do with them, considering it was his first year. "Maybe some concealment charms? Perhaps figure out if any of them have career paths and tailor it to those needs?" Those interested in the ministry would have different needs that others after all.

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magic by MJ the magnificent

Gus couldn’t help but grin at Mason. If only he knew how unpopular a boggart would be, he may have gone a different route. Oh well, too little, too late. That would be a self-reflection for summertime, and Gus wasn’t sure he’d make it there just yet. Of course the seventh year girls would give them both troubles… and he nodded when the other spoke about them.

“Patronus I can go, although I’m sure they’ll complain about how useless that is.” He nearly rolled his eyes - it had taken him years to understand how useful every spell could be under the right circumstances, but then again curse breaking had put him in some weird positions he never thought he’d find himself in. An obstacle course wasn’t a bad idea either. Something clicked and his face lit up with a smile. “A career path wouldn’t be bad. As soon as I got my final NEWT scores I was able to line up an apprentice Curse Breaker gig. Left the day I turned eighteen for Egypt.” He shrugged. There of course had been a few other circumstances that led to him leaving so suddenly but he certainly wasn’t about to offer them to Mason.

“If I could teach them to duel, really duel, I would, but I don’t think Headmaster Black would like those tactics.” Some of the hexes he certainly didn't want his students to use on each other, but they were certainly fun to use on some of his colleagues. Gus flashed Mason a smile. “How did you decide to come here? To teach?”

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Mason Skeeter

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Lissington seemed to be taking his suggestions in stride, rather than as condescending (which was good, as Mason had never even used that kind of tone in his entire life) and Mason could see his wheels turning. Good, usually a few ideas were all a person needed to get the creative juices flowing.

"I doubt you'll get a real duel going, but with a little ingenuity I'm sure you can think of something." Mason had learned that no idea was a bad idea, you just had to figure out how to make it appropriate for the setting. Which was often the biggest challenge, but thankfully there were quite a few professors that he could bounce ideas off of.

The question about his own decision to return to Hogwarts caused a grimace to grace his features quickly, but Mason wiped it off easily. "I finished up my apprenticeship in the field, took most of my twenties, really traveled, got some good experience." Got his heart broken, the same old story. "Didn't know quite what else to do, thought this would be a good fit, close to home, my mum lives locally," And knowing what he did now, Mason was glad he was nearby. "Clearly it worked out alright." He chuckled. "What about you though, this is quite the change, no?" Cursebreaking must have been a hell of a lot more exciting that this.

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magic by MJ the magnificent

Gus grinned at the other but didn’t respond to him; he couldn’t imagine teaching his seventh years to duel properly. They’d gang up on him and that was a situation he wanted to avoid entirely. (The thought of winding up explaining himself to Headmaster Black passed through his mind and Gus shuddered. He much preferred to not execute daft ideas that seemed good at the time.) If he saw the grimace that quickly passed across the other’s face he didn’t say anything about that, either.

It was curious to think that Mason had traveled; he didn’t know the man well enough, but he didn’t seem like the type to go out for some big, grand adventure but then again, Gus wasn’t going to pass a judgment on him. He’d grown up on adventure stories and no one had been surprised to hear he was following in his father’s footsteps with his career path. “You surprise me, Skeeter. But in the best kind of way.” His grin widened. Maybe this summer he could convince him to go somewhere exciting. He filed the thought in the back of his mind.

Then he huffed his own laugh and shook his head. “It’s silly, really. I ah… I spent a lot of time focusing on being a curse breaker that I kind of let a lot of my relationships here wither.” A broken heart, whatever. He’d been more focused on getting out and forgetting about London that everything else had taken a backseat. “And then I just woke up one morning and I was homesick. I felt like if I didn’t come home I’d regret it. But I certainly couldn’t do a ministry job. I’d combust if I had to sit behind a desk and fill out paperwork all day.” At least here he got to do spells and grade. He just hated the grading part. "It was a whim. I'm not too great at thinking things through sometimes." Jump first, consequences later was something Gus tended to live by.

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Mason Skeeter

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"I get that a lot." Mason knew he looked like a homebody, somebody who hadn't done much else with his life, before he'd spent the better part of a decade teaching, but he had, once upon a time, led a pretty transient life. Professionally anyway, personally he hadn't been doing so well. At least he had the former going for him.

Mason nodded along as he heaved one last thing into place for his next class. "I took my apprenticeship pretty seriously. It's hard to keep track when you travel all over and spend time with one somewhat crazy old man as your only source of company." Mason chuckled, but his smile softened into something almost sentimental. Herman Weatherby had been like a second father to him. After losing his own so early in life, it was nice to have that stead presence, even if he was just a bit off key most of the time.

"I couldn't do the desk life either, certainly part of how I ended up here as well. You wound up where you needed to be." Was all Mason had to offer about moving on impulse. He tended to believe everything happened for a reason, good or bad. "I think I'm all set. I wonder if they're still serving dinner." He needed to wash up and eat, but not necessarily in that order.

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   Gus Lissington

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