"Break my heart, why don't you," Spencer said conversationally, standing up, gently easing his feet away from the vine under the table that had wrapped tendrils around his ankles. Thankfully, over four years spent in greenhouses meant that he was pretty good at moving slowly, and he didn't trip over anymore.
"Or my rooms are just at the back," Spencer said, shrugging slightly. "I've got a couple of pretty comfy armchairs and things, besides the bed." And a lot of slightly evil looking plants, he added, not quite out loud. William had been in the war -- Spencer was hoping he didn't startle too easily.
He got up and, a little awkwardly, led the way, pushing the door at the back of the greenhouse open into his small bedroom. His study was just beyond that, but Spencer waited where it was, his bed unmade, the flitterblooms crowding around, stacks of books and parchments on either side of his bed and Mikey's Rubik's Cube resting on the bedside table. It was the best way to keep himself occupied at night, but now he felt a little embarrassed about the mess -- he waved his wand, sweeping the parchments and books, at least, up into a more manageable sort of mess.