Alex Weasley (notyourfred) wrote in breaking_point, @ 2010-06-27 21:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | *complete, 2025 06, character: fred alex weasley, character: neville longbottom |
RP: Alex and Neville
Who: Alex Weasley, Neville Longbottom
Where: Greenhouses
When: 27 June - just after supper
Rating/Warnings: n/a
Summary: Checking on the seedlings
Alex hadn't been surprised when Professor Longbottom had assigned half an entire greenhouse to the cultivation of Aconite. What had surprised him was that he'd put Alex in charge of it. In charge? He'd got an E in Herbology, true, and he was of age, and fairly conscientious, but still. In charge?
But he certainly couldn't say no. Not now, when everyone pulled their weight, did what they could. Even the kids pitched in with wiping up and stuff. And it gave him things to do, and things to think about, to keep him from thinking.
Alex made his way down the rows, pulling weeds and pouring water, then began to take inventory. Listed the number of plants at each stage. Seedlings, then transplants, then the fully grown plants, tall and thin, with deep purple flowers. Every bit of the plant served a purpose, and Alex had done every bit of reading he could about how to harvest things to maximise their usefulness. The flowers. The leaves. The odd, three-part seed pods. Most of the plants were too immature, and the bulk of what was usable had already been harvested, but as he inventoried, he found others ready to pick.
Pulling protective gloves from under the planting bench, Alex headed for the last row of mature plants and pulled his silver knife from his belt. Something always struck him odd about silver and Aconite, but everything specified silver as the knife to harvest with. Odd, because there was silver in the Wolfsbane, too. The first mature seed pods dropped into a box, sheared by his knife. Maybe the silver made things more potent. Maybe it acted as a binder?
He continued to work, filling the seed pod box, then one with leaves, before pulling out a larger one to harvest the delicate flowers. Maybe silver irritated the inside of the werewolf. Left him raw inside, just a little? Just enough for the potion to be able to affect him, especially since the wolves were so much stronger than in their human form? He laid another fragile flower into the box, still frowning over his theory, his thoughts, always curious about something. There was always something to figure out, thank Merlin, or he'd have time to think about his mother and father, his sister and grandparents, and he'd never get anything done.
He stacked the boxes aside and began to pull up the roots, brushing them free of soil and cutting the stems away before packing the roots up as well. Nothing could go to waste here, although the stems themselves were useless and he tossed them into the bin. His fingers sifted through the soil, picking out bits of roots left behind, and once he was done he began adding fertiliser, preparing for another planting. So many werewolves, and he could see why half a greenhouse was dedicated just to this.