26th September, 1894 — Greenhouse Five, Hogwarts

Jimmy swung his legs back and forth idly, from where he was perched up on a long worktop table in the greenhouse after classes that day. He was a little bored, but he knew he couldn’t, strictly speaking, complain about this – after all, Glynn was doing most of the work.

Jimmy hadn’t asked, but he imagined Glynn would keep this up all year without much complaining at all. And he was from a tree farm, wasn’t he? So this was basically what he’d been trained for. And there were far worse partners to have.

Jimmy flicked a tiny balled-up clod of earth towards the back of Glynn’s head to get his attention, where the Ravenclaw was finally planting in their Devil’s Snare. (Jimmy had chosen the plant for them: that was his biggest contribution thus far.) “How soon d’you reckon it’ll be big enough to strangle someone?” he asked, seriously.

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Cadogan Glynn/Gus Lissington

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   Reginald Alderton

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It was very important that he did well on his assignments this year – he was gunning for a scholarship so he could continue on with his NEWTs next year. Cad had goals in life that required them, and he wasn’t entirely sure what he would do if he didn’t take them. He really didn’t want to work on the farm forever.

Fletcher certainly wasn’t going to take this seriously though, so Cadogan had taken charge in almost every aspect. He glanced at the Gryffindor as he threw some soil at him, the faintest trace of a frown crinkling his forehead. “Well, if we do this right and follow all the proper protocols,” Which Cad had every intention of doing, “we’re going to grow a strong one. But you know, our goal isn’t to strangle people.”

He shook his head as he started patting the soil in place. “Professor Skeeter has told us how long it takes to grow, so why don’t you tell me?” Of course Cadogan knew the answer, but Fletcher was going to have to work for some of his credit.

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It was hard to pay any attention to that sad little crease in Glynn’s forehead – his overlarge ears always drew the eye instead. Proper protocols: that sounded rather pretentious, for a subject that was really just messing around in the dirt and growing things that usually bit you or stung you or made growling noises. Or strangled people, in this case. (Jimmy thought that could be the goal. It would probably show they had a good healthy specimen on their hands, so maybe it could boost their grades.)

Jimmy smiled dreamily at that, though he was less enthused by Glynn’s attempt to make him study along the way. “Calm down, Mr. Professor,” Jimmy groaned; the Ravenclaw sounded just a like a teacher in miniature, trying to prod answers out of him. This was a project, not an interrogation. “How should I know? Skeeter’s voice is too soft and the greenhouses are too warm. It just makes you want to nod off. You ever had a nap in Herbology? Prime conditions,” Jimmy explained, in a mock-academic tone.

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Cad couldn’t help it – he snorted. He had no desire to be a professor, if only because there were too many people constantly around him; no, he wanted to work in a place like a museum where he could be by himself, working quietly on whatever was assigned. People like Jimmy Fletcher wouldn’t be there because they’d become attention starved and slink away to find another job that would cater to their need to be seen. He only had a couple more years before that was a reality.

“Well, maybe if you stayed awake, you’d know the answers,” Cadogan pointed out, as if Fletcher didn’t know that for himself. What did he want to do with his life? Nothing? Or was he a quidditch person who thought he was good enough to go pro? He threw the Gryffindor an exasperated look, not caring one bit what the other did after he graduated. “If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll remind you how to brew a Wide-eye potion. You might learn a thing or two if you manage to stay awake.” Cad shrugged as he continued to pat the dirt.

The plant gave a faint twitch under his touch, its vines curling inward, and he instinctively shifted back. “Come make sure this thing doesn’t grab me.” Cad instructed, although he didn’t dare take his eyes off it; it was too small to do much damage, but Cadogan would really like to avoid it altogether.

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Jimmy raised an eyebrow. For someone who had snorted at being called Professor, he sure did sound like one. Not even all Glynn’s Ravenclaw housemates sounded so naturally like know-it-alls. If you ask nicely, this and that – he had to shake his head. “Where’d you learn to talk like that, anyway?” For a fifteen-year-old, he certainly sounded a ripe seventy-three. Old woman. “This how you get the trees to grow?”

In spite of his joking, Jimmy had caved enough to slide down from the greenhouse worktop and coming over beside Glynn to watch the planting from a closer vantage. Whether to be a help or a nuisance (who could say), he wiggled his fingers in the vicinity of one of the plant’s tendrils, watching as it slowly curled out towards him and swiftly darting his hand back when it tried to get a grasp on him. He did it a second time, and laughed – the third time, his reaction wasn’t fast enough, and the Devil’s Snare had knotted itself around his hand. Well then. Jimmy’s heart rate went up a notch, from the thrill. “Look at me,” he said with a smirk, nudging Glynn with his elbow. “I’m getting hands-on.”

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Cad didn’t like to be teased. Hell, there was a reason he chose to be quiet in most cases, although unfortunately with projects like this he didn't have much of a choice but to talk. He wasn’t sure how to answer Fletcher’s question – he’d only phrased it that way so he wouldn’t snap at the other and now it was biting him in the butt. Instead of answering him (if only because Cadogan knew it would give Fletcher more fuel, if not now than for later), he chose to ignore the Gryffindor, lips pursing together as he turned his attention toward the plant in front of them.

At least his partner came closer, poking the plant a few times to antagonize it. At that point Cad finished patting the soil around the plant and stepped back, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand because now there was nothing else to do than observe it as it grew. Fletcher’s laugh drew him from his thoughts, and Cad found his eyebrows knitting together, although the corner of his mouth twitched – almost a smile, although he didn’t want the kid to know he was almost amused at the antics. Of course he’d get himself into this situation.

“Look at you,” Cad parroted, watching as the plant curled around his wrist. “finally making some friends.” Hopefully Fletcher understood it was a (half) tease, and wouldn’t suddenly take it personally. He crouched down beside the other, but rather than pull out his wand to help him or offer any other kind of assistance, the Ravenclaw jabbed the plant with his finger, spurring it tighter; if Fletcher was going to act like a guinea pig, Cad might as well get some good notes from it.

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(292 words)

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If Glynn was uncomfortable with the conversation, Jimmy had been oblivious – in fact, as long as someone did not say as much or slap him in the face, he tended to suppose that they were getting along swimmingly.

And maybe they were, because that remark about making friends was very nearly sass from Glynn, who was tragically un-sassy. Jimmy grinned – at least until the Ravenclaw poked at the Devil’s Snare, which did not extricate his hand from its clutches as he expected. “This new friend of mine is pretty – clingy,” he joked, as the vines curled rather aggressively around his wrist, forcing him to lurch closer to the rest of its newly-planted tendrils. He wasn’t panicked yet (or so he told himself), but he was... less calm than he had been a second ago. “So, uh, what did you just do to it?”

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Maybe Cad shouldn’t feel as smug as he did that Fletcher almost lost his grin once Cad stabbed the plant, but there was something enthralling about being in charge; hell, he was a prefect so he did have some sway, but he hadn’t really let any form of power go to his head, until now. He wasn’t going to let the plant hurt him, but he certainly was going to test to see just how much the Gryffindor had learned during Professor Skeeter’s lessons as he was forced closer. Don’t panic. He shrugged, choosing to ignore the joke about the clingy friend.

He let his eyes flick up to Fletcher once he was done jotting down some notes, taking some extra time to heavily dot his i’s. He crossed his arms but didn’t move to pull out his wand to help. “All I did was poke it to see what it would do while wrapped around something.” Which was true. “It thinks of you as prey, by the way, so it might start crawling up your arm.” Cadogan hesitated, like he was going to fix the problem, but they did have to take notes.

“I promise I won’t let you strangle you.” The Ravenclaw hastily added, even though Fletcher had been excited by that when they’d started this. “Or well… if it does, I promise to get you to the infirmary.”

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   James Fletcher

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He ought to be annoyed by Glynn going all mad scientist on him, poking and prodding and note-taking like that instead of helping, but... Jimmy was watching him in something like awe. He had never been so cool.

Jimmy’s own heart rate ratcheted up, and, as if in response, the Devil’s Snare did exactly what Glynn had predicted it would. He was still grinning, but there was a tinge of nervousness now as he asked, “What does a Devil’s snare do once it strangles things? Do we know? Does it eat them?” There were carnivorous plants aplenty – and Glynn had called him prey.

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It served Fletcher right, sounding nervous now that he had a plant that could easily kill him wrapped around him; if Cad was a bit more cynical or even a bit less worried about following the rules (he really did need the prefect tuition assistance to come back for his NEWTs), he might have continued to poke and prod the Devil’s Snare to see how high he could get it. But he didn’t. This was his limit of wanting to hurt someone.

“I think it just strangles things? I don’t think they have teeth to um… chew?” Cad blinked. He certainly didn’t want to find out. Professor Skeeter would have mentioned it. He turned his gaze toward Fletcher. “Just try to relax. I’ll see how long it takes to drop off your arm, or at least loosen its grip. Don’t try to shake it off though. Then we can check for teeth.” Though Cadogan knew he was right, he was nervous this plant might eat him.

If all else failed, then he would use a spell.

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Jimmy had always been pleased to take a punt on seeing what happened, generally, and poking any theoretical bears about, and while dying in a Herbology greenhouse with only Cadogan Glynn for company was hardly the dream end, being strangled (and possibly consumed) by a fiendish plant was still something to be proud of.

But in the interest of not dying, Jimmy decided to follow Glynn’s directions and not shake it off. He wasn’t sure how to do that, though – he had never been very good at sitting still, and now the pressure of trying to made the itch to move that much worse. He couldn’t do much with the forearm the Devil’s Snare had, but he was restlessly bouncing his knee.

Maybe it he tried to think about something so dull he wanted to fall asleep? With that thought in mind – “So are you going to keep Herbology for your NEWT classes?” he asked, with the careless energy of someone who had not stopped to consider any of the NEWT classes he would be taking, nor how he would have the means to return for a last two years after this.

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Well, it was nice to know that Fletcher was capable of following some direction, although from the way he was bouncing his leg it seemed like it was slowly killing him inside. Cad wondered what was worse – dying from having to sit still, or being strangled to death by a plant. (He would pick the latter, but then again he was perfectly content sitting still for a while. Much better than dealing with people.)

He was staring intently at the plant waiting for it to fall, so it took a moment for Cadogan to blink, realizing that Fletcher had spoken. “Oh.” He started with, because that was the last thing he’d expected the Gryffindor to ask him. “I haven’t given it much thought,” which was a complete lie because he knew exactly what courses he needed to take – and pass – to be qualified for the museum job he wanted, although Herbology wasn’t one of them, “because I’m not sure I’ll be able to come back.”

Cadogan quickly averted his gaze. He knew Fletcher wouldn’t show him pity or anything like that, but it was still a sucky thing to admit. “But I guess I’d keep Herbology. I like it. I’d drop Divination.” Pausing, Cad quietly huffed a laugh before adding, “And potions.” He tipped his head. “And what are you going to take?”

The Devil’s Snare seemed to loosen around Fletcher’s arm. He quickly jotted down the time.

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Glynn’s not giving much thought was inevitably still going to be a hundred times more thought than Jimmy had given it, anyway. (And Glynn was smart, so if Jimmy ever had to think seriously about something – getting Glynn’s opinion would probably do most of the hard work for him. A shortcut, if you like.)

Except Glynn might not be coming back. Jimmy gaped a little, fish-like. He didn’t know what to say to that, though – he supposed it made sense, if Glynn had lots of siblings who had been expensive to raise, or the farm needed his help more than he needed the learning. But he had supposed it a given that people like Glynn (nerds, prefects) would be the sorts of prize students Hogwarts would be desperate to keep.

He let Glynn go through his classes to drop before he said anything. “No idea,” Jimmy answered brashly, because he really hadn’t thought about it – although he didn’t see what was stopping him come back. “Whichever OWLs I don’t fail, I s’pose.” Still, he peered at Glynn, a little quizzical and a little wry, too newly invested in his prospects to pay much attention to the loosening plant. “Yeah, if you were any good at Divination I guess you’d have a better idea of your future,” he mocked – but then sobered, just a little, almost sorry about it. “You think you won’t be able to come back?”

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   Cadogan Glynn

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Fletcher looked shocked, like Cadogan had just told him that he’d killed someone and hidden the body in the Forbidden Forest. (Okay, so maybe he didn’t seem that surprised, but Cad was taken a bit aback by the look on his face.) Instead of making it even more awkward by trying to comment further on it, the Ravenclaw rattled off some classes he’d like to drop simply because he didn’t like them; at least Fletcher did him the favor of not interrupting.

He nodded. The Gryffindor would definitely be taking Defense Against the Dark Arts and Herbology again because those were hard to fail, but probably wouldn’t make it into Professor Foxwood’s Transfiguration class. Again, he didn’t offer up his opinion because it didn’t matter, not when Fletcher was looking at him like he wasn’t sure if he should mock him for not having tuition money readily available. He did flinch at the comment, his eyes turning toward the parchment as his cheeks burnt in embarrassment. “I’ll be sure to ask Professor Bloom,” Cadogan mumbled.

He let a beat of silence pass before he eventually said, “Yeah.” Glanced up like he was checking for judgment, but didn’t linger onFletcher’s face long enough to see if there was any. “I have a scholarship for this year, plus the prefect assistance.” But next year was up in the air. If he worked hard enough, it just might prove he was good enough to want to keep. (Right?) Cad frowned as he finally turned to actually look at the other. “Anyway. Doesn’t matter yet.” He wasn’t sure why in the world he was being so truthful – he’d just handed Fletcher ammunition to mock him forever.

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   James Fletcher

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Glynn was flushed red, evidently embarrassed by the conversation – but now Jimmy was thinking too hard, too deep in his own head to make fun of him for it. He had never bothered to worry about himself, because Great-Gran always got that money from somewhere, like clockwork. Now that she was gone, would the money come? Or – was whoever who sent the money intending to pay for his NEWTs, or not? He hadn’t even questioned it before. But Great-Gran had died, so... Jimmy would have to figure it out.

His face had scrunched up, as disappointed by Glynn’s situation as he was suddenly wary of his own. But he couldn’t look the Ravenclaw in the eye and say I’m sorry, could he? Sorry wasn’t in his vocabulary: he’d never live it down. But he felt a little bad for messing around and not focusing on their Herbology assignment, if Glynn’s chances at staying and his own might be dependent on it.

Unless it wasn’t worth staying... How much did Hogwarts cost, exactly? (What else could he potentially do with the money other than pay for school, if he got it in the post next summer?)

“Well, if it helps,” Jimmy joked, because this topic felt like a bit of a bummer, and (weirdly) he wanted to cheer Glynn up some, if he could, “Even if we do well on this project, I’m probably not going to steal your scholarship from you.” Jimmy didn’t know if there were a limited number of funds, but – he was not likely to ever be in competition for it, even if he started trying now.

Jimmy scratched the back of his head with his finally-free hand and chewed on his bottom lip, wondering. What exactly was he going to do after Hogwarts, anyway? He’d never thought about it seriously before.

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