burning bushes | aurelia

[Bran Fionn O'Dalaigh]

a little closer to grace.

jan, 2023

THE SMELL OF CHURNED EARTH AND DAMP vegetation soothed a part of Bran's restless soul. He hunkered down low in the furthest greenhouse from the castle. Whispering sweet nothings to plants that couldn't hear him. But, it wasn't the plants he had come for, really. He pulled the rollie from his back pocket. One of the last Mina had given him before she'd gone off and graduated - the cheek of it. He'd rationed them carefully, knowing his own joints left something to be desired. He remembered Mina saying something about them being tighter than a [redacted]. He couldn't remember exactly what she had said, but it still made him laugh.

The carriages had delivered Bran back for his final term at Hogwarts, but it wasn't like he was displeased by his return. Christmas had been fine enough, Brigh had talked a whole lot of something about nothing, his mum had made so much lentil soup they'd eaten it for breakfast, and there was a mysterious new vegetable growing in the back field. A fairly typical holiday. It was just that the Hogwarts Welcome Back Feast was... loud. And Bran had never quite felt comfy in the small wooden benches by the tables, and he was always elbowing somebody accidentally. He just... didn't feel quite right in his gangly body. So, he'd slipped out after a quick plate of roast potatoes with rosmary salt and shuffled off to the greenhouses for a smoke before lights out.

There was a fire seed bush in the last greenhouse at Hogwarts. Bran loved it, had loved it since his introduction in third year. A plant that was on fire. That helped hatch dragon eggs, and burned as long as it lived. Bran thought, as he crouched low by the glowing embers of a smoky little seedling, that it wasn't grown for the purpose of lighting a rollie. Bran supposed it was a good thing there was nobody to catch him do just that. Leaning forward, just enough to watch the tip of the papers singe as a little flame licked its way from a branch to Bran's joint. He drew in a quick breath, enjoyed the way that it numbed his tongue, and sat back with a smug little smirk. "Like a charm," He muttered under his breath, a hunched figure among whispering leaves. 

aurelia edith flint

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[aurelia edith flint]

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The suffocating air of the Flint mansion was far behind now, and entire train’s ride away. No more nights of being woken up by drunken screaming and the clatter of thrown furniture in the dining room below. For the life that Aurelia had been given – one of wealth and aristocracy – she hated it so. Her sister bore the brunt of it far more than she personally ever had. The abuse they were served was emotional and manipulative, and only physical if they happened to catch the broken leg of one of the aforementioned chairs or from an ‘accident’. Marcus and Pansy prided themselves on the fact that their children were successful and studious, forgetting the part where they were also supposed to be examples to follow in life. Aurelia never once thought of either of her parents as the definition of stellar human beings. Just on what not to do. And she had seen over the last few years of Hogwarts what it meant to have parents that loved their children. She saw the way their hugs lingered as the train whistle blew last call to board, and how they received letters during mealtimes. The last letter she remembered her sister getting was a Howler over a small mishap in Potions class fourth year that had to be reported because another student was injured. The rest of her time at school was radio silence. Never knowing what the mood would be once they returned home for breaks.

Being back at Hogwarts, Aurelia finally felt like she could breathe again. Obviously, it was never as easy as that, considering who her roommates were, so to kill time before having to return to the dorms, she ate a quick dinner and headed out onto the grounds and towards the greenhouses. There were several plants there that the professor had allowed her to take care of. They fared better at school than if she ever tried to grow them at home. More than one plant had been ripped out of the ground during her mother’s frequent drunken fits.

It was beyond cold out as she shivered her way into the first greenhouse she wanted to check, using the key she had been given for such occasions. For once, being a teacher’s pet of sorts had worked in her favor. The door was already unlocked though, and Aurelia thought nothing of it. Maybe because she had made eye contact with the professor earlier in the evening, they thought to unlock it for her. She didn’t really think anyone else would find solace in the greenhouses so soon after returning to school. Aside from her, of course.

While she wasn’t particularly intrigued by the fire seed bush that called this greenhouse home, it did catch her eye as she stepped inside. The flick of its flames licked through the darkness. She almost didn’t notice the shadow it had created at first, her eyes still not adjusted to the change in light inside the building. Only when the solid shape moved did she realize that there was someone else there, looking at the bush for some reason. “Is that you professor?” Aurelia called bravely, knowing that wasn’t the case at all.

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[Bran Fionn O'Dalaigh]

a little closer to grace.

jan, 2023

CHERRY LIT AND LUNGS FILLED WITH SWEET fuggy smoke, Bran felt himself slump happily against the wall behind him. Just the barest few inches illuminated the tip of his nose and reflected off the smouldering seedling. And just as he was about to relax, to exhale that first lungful and let the stars glitter inside of his head, a shuffling froze Bran in place. Just a scuffle at first, but then it was paired with the creaking of hinges and the very rotten realisation that he was suddenly, violently not alone.

The smoky air in Bran's lungs turned fetid and he felt his chest ache and compress with the need to breathe. But, if he breathed, he would move. If he moved, he would be caught. Bran liked the Herbology professor, but he doubted their leniency went so far as to stretch to 'toking up with the fire seedlings'. A squeak escaped his pursed lips and he shifted in place. The noise stopped suddenly, and Bran ducked his chin as he plucked the rollie from his mouth and tried his very best to blow smoke down into the dirt packed floor of the greenhouse.

A tentative voice lilted through from the front to the back of the greenhouse. Bran's heart still wrenched helplessly in his chest, but he could have cried as he realised it was not his professor. The voice was sweet and a little bit familiar, another student surely. Bran ducked low anyways, in case it was a Prefect patrol.

"Ye-es?" Bran replied helplessly, already dropping his hand with the rolled paper and weed down to hide behind his thigh. His voice was hoarse, but he still attempted to imitate their friendly professor all the same. His head a little light, his mouth suddenly very dry. "B-best be off with you," He crowed with a sort of stuffy nosed impression. His Irish accent just barely masked by a funny little English lift. "Back to the feast- at- at once!" He pressed his lips together to refrain from giggling and slunk low to the ground, using a plant box for cover. 

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[aurelia edith flint]

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The most unconvincing response drifted back to her from the other side of the greenhouse. Aurelia didn’t believe it in the slightest, though she was somewhat unnerved to find out that the shadowy form was indeed another person. A tiny bit of her was hoping it was a stray kneazle or a plant that had toppled over in its pot. There were a number of nefarious dark creatures out there capable of mimicking human speech and fooling unsuspecting witches and wizards. She doubted such a thing could find its way to Hogwarts without an adult knowing first, but there was always that small chance…

Then she smelled it. The faint whiff from the now lit tip of the joint the mysterious person was smoking. The greenhouses always had excellent airflow, and when she had opened the door, it had suctioned everything in her direction. No creature was capable of mimicking that as far as she was aware. This was a harmless old student, snuck off to get high instead of eating dinner. Aurelia was far from being a stuffy rule-follower, but she did have concerns about combustibles inside the greenhouse. Even if the figure was in the direction of the fire seed bush. Which was probably how it was lit in the first place.

“Lumos,” she cast the illumination spell, the globule of blue light erupting from the tip of her wand. Thousands of shadows danced around her as every branch, leaf, and flower took to it. She had shown where she was, though still couldn’t see the trespasser. “Why’d you have to smoke in here?” Aurelia asked as she quickly crossed between the rows of flora. Some of these she’d potted herself during the fall term. ”Surely you aren’t dull enough to forget that fire and plants don’t work together?” Though it was sort of an ironic thing to say, considering the fire seed bush was sat right behind the person, who she could now tell was a scruffy looking boy around her age. A seventh year, perhaps?

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[Bran Fionn O'Dalaigh]

a little closer to grace.

jan, 2023

UNOFRTUNATELY, THE ONE STUDENT THAT HAD discovered Bran in the middle of his smoke was not stupid. He'd hoped, at the very least, they'd be a little hard of hearing. Instead, as he slumped low behind a sparse bushel, the stinging brightness of a Lumos flared to life. It obscured his captor with the searing light, but it needn't matter. He heard the accompanying patter of feet and attempted to flatten himself against the pots behind him. The joint hanging from the corner of his mouth to free his hands. The tips of his messy red hair just skimming the ends of the infantile fire seed bush. He smelled the beginning of a singe just as the figure appeared from the gloom, flinching forward with a hiss as he palmed the back of his head.

"Mmph-" He hummed helplessly around the filter tip. Blinking the haze from his eyes as he slunk low between his bent legs and peered up through a fringe of messy, mildly singed hair. It was a face he instantly recognised, with a mortifying clarity. A Herbology prodigy of sorts, he'd seen her around the greenhouses often enough that it was hard not to remember her just a little bit. Always a little dirt smudged, and on first name basis with the Professor. Flint, he thought with a scrunched nose, smiling sheepishly. Aurelia, he added, in self-flagellation.

"Didn't have a light?" He offered in explanation, plucking the joint from his lips and dropping it out of sight between his bent knees. As if that made matters any better. "I mean..." He huffed a smoky, helpless laugh. "It's not like there aren't already bushes on fire, or anything." He shrugged big and loose, the heady smoke giving him an undeserved boost in confidence. "Can you argue with that...?" He asked her, truly wondering if she might just because. It was, after all, her stomping ground.

With large, rounded eyes, Bran tried to appear at his most sincere as he looked up at her. A floppy, unthreatening fringe of red hair, his freckled cheeks just a little flushed with embarrassment and adrenaline. Maybe, if he said just the right thing she wouldn't grass him up. "I'm... very careful." He flashed his teeth in a dopey grin, not daring to lift the joint for another draw, no matter how much he'd have liked to. "And I'm very good at sharing...?" His shoulder shifting just slightly as he made to lift the joint to offer a hit. It was only fair, of course. 

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[aurelia edith flint]

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Aurelia stared at the boy dumbly as he said he didn’t have a way to light the ugly cylinder he had jammed between his teeth. Was he stupid? All it took was a small incendiary spell and a little bit of wand control to light something that tiny. She did it all the time with candles at home. Her history with smokables started and ended with when her sister once knicked a couple of cigarettes from their mum’s purse. The feeling of acting out had made her stomach do summersaults while they traded it back and forth between coughing fits, and the raw feeling of the sore throat after had left her thinking it really wasn’t worth it. At least the two of them would have been in it together had they been caught puffing away. She could only begin to imagine the storm of verbal abuse they would have suffered had that happened. It had completely ruined the experience of rebellion.

She wasn’t going to agree with him that it was sort of reasonable to use the bush to light it though. The fact he had broken into the greenhouse (assuming that was the case) was more of a turn off than the smoking and taking advantage of the bush’s fiery attributes. He was sort of plain and unassuming. Which was probably why he had been able to sneak off during dinner and into here. Unlike her, because she sort of had permission.

Her eyes narrowed down at him as he held up the joint to her, a peace offering of sorts. For half a second, she thought about taking him up on it. A way to let the torturous holiday break behind her. And then the other half of the same second had her wanting to stamp it under her foot. To prove a point that he was in the wrong for smoking in here. ”I’m good, thanks,” Aurelia declined. ”So…you broke in here just to use the bush to light that? I don’t…I don’t get the reasoning behind that at all,” she added as she walked herself through it all over again.

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[Bran Fionn O'Dalaigh]

a little closer to grace.

jan, 2023

IF IT WASN'T FOR THE FACT THAT BRAN WAS AT least 25% high at that moment, he mightn't have managed to keep his cool as long as he had. In fact, it was a certainty that if he had been caught breaking into the greenhouses entirely sober, he'd probably have been knee deep in a panic attack already. Alas, the joint made everything seem easier to handle. The world had softened its edges and he was simply floating along for the ride.

Bran sat back on his haunches, dropping down onto his backside and splaying his knees as he settled onto the compact ground. His arms he slung over his parted knees, offering his joint like it were a magical olive branch that would solve all of their problems. Unfortunately, only Bran was high in the end, and not everybody partook in the ancient art of blazing it up with nature. In fact, the pretty Flint girl almost looked offended at the offer. Her voice carrying across the void with a curt sweetness. Bran imagined he could feel it on his tongue, tart and sweet all at once. Like freshly squeezed iced lemonade.

Leaning his head back against a ceramic pot behind him, the length of Bran's throat rolled as he swallowed drily. "No," He muttered into the dimness. His teeth glinting as he donned a dopey grin. "I broke in because there's nowhere on this godforsaken mountain that's quite as quiet." He drawled, the softness of his Irish accent rolling his words and shortening them kindly. "The smokin', I mean, that's just a bonus." He licked a thumb lazily and ran it along the curling seam of the burning paper and hissed when the heat nipped at his skin. "Why'd you break in?" He questioned back, opening his eyes when he'd realised belatedly that they had slipped closed. He squinted at her backlit silhouette. "Isn't there a feast you're missin'?"

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NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[aurelia edith flint]

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He had a point, as much as she hated to admit it. The whole reason she had come here was to escape the noise as well, so she could commiserate with him on that. Smoking whatever it was he was smoking around the plants though…Aurelia was far less sympathetic about that. While it was probably fine, there were some magical plants that were highly sensitive to their surroundings. Most of those were kept in separate, climate-controlled greenhouses, but the fact that it could cause issues bothered her. There were better places to smoke around campus anyways. Plenty of empty classrooms or long forgotten corridors that no one ever wandered down anymore. She only knew of them because she liked going on long, solitary walks and found herself down them quite often, usually running through cobwebs that would make an acromantula blush with envy.

”I didn’t break in,” Aurelia stated with an air of authority in her voice. She produced the small silver key that had been given to her by the professors and flashed it at him before returning it to her pocket. ”I’m allowed to be here whenever I please. Checking in on the plants after break is part of my duties.” Duties as what, she didn’t actually know. As the teacher’s pet? Because she certainly was when it came to Herbology. None of her doing though, of course. It just so happened to be her best class and she was extremely passionate about it. She deserved to be rewarded for it, especially after going through hell whenever she wasn’t at school.

He brought up missing the feast, and she gave him an odd look. ”That goes for both of us, doesn’t it?” Aurelia questioned. She moved closer to him, dragging a hidden stool out from underneath one of the desks, and perched on it. She really didn’t trust him to not burn down the place with his smoke thing.

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[Bran Fionn O'Dalaigh]

a little closer to grace.

jan, 2023

NO SHARP RETORT IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWED SO Bran decided he must have made a great point. Not even Aurelia Flint could deny the peaceful pull of the greenhouses. Especially as an escape from the bombardment of first year feasts. Bran settled down a little, let his shoulders relax as he decided he wasn't about to be ratted out to the first authority figure she could find. Which would really be a terrible first impression, something Bran would rather avoid, even as stoned as he was. 

Rolling the filter between his fingers, Bran lifted his rollie and took another long pull until his lungs burned. His eyes watered a little as he exhaled, blinking the sting out of them as Aurelia railed against his accusation with an almost lofty, snooty kind of expression. It didn't really fit her face, but he liked it anyways. "We can't all be Longbottom's chosen one, s'ppose." Bran shrugged with a scrunch to his nose, teasing tentatively as he flicked ash into his palm and made it disappear. A party trick from days long past.

Slumped back as he was, Bran slowly let his legs relax from their bend. They were ghastly long and stretched across the walkway between tables of plants, the toe of his shoe almost touching the leg of Aurelia's stool. His eyes had drifted shut for a moment and he was counting his breaths, thinking of all the ways he was fucking up his first actually conversation with a girl like Aurelia Flint.

"Y'know," He almost whispered into the fragile quiet that had fallen between them. "Think I'd rather be anywhere else, if I'm being honest with ya'." His grin was slow and sure, his foot bending forward to gently tap against the stool leg. "But I wonder, why's the same for you, Aurelia Flint?" His eyes blinked open, bleary and glistening with pupils blown wide. 

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NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[aurelia edith flint]

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She wasn’t sure if she should take offense to being called Professor Longbottom’s ‘chosen one’. It was one-hundred percent truth, after all. Aurelia had never not tried her best in the class either, which couldn’t be said about all of her classmates over the last few years. Being one of the better students when it came to Herbology obviously had its perks. Like having her own key to the greenhouses since that was why she was here in the first place. Not to mention that it worked in her favor to have one class where she absolutely excelled. Having a professor on her side helped if her parents ever made a stink out of it all, even if said professor was Neville Longbottom. The horrendous insults she’d heard them hurl back and forth between one another about him made her want to argue back. Aurelia knew how that would end though. Head down and mouth sealed shut, she silently stewed through all of her breaks. Her parents knew exactly what they were doing. They were looking for insubordination. Any reason was a good enough reason for them.

Aurelia refused to confirm or deny the comment though. This was a strange enough conversation as it was, and she had no idea how to navigate it. On one hand, she really didn’t want to get him in trouble for breaking in. She wasn’t a snitch. On the other, she sort of wanted her own peace and quiet, and he was intruding on her space. There were so few of those left for her to comfortably retreat to.

She watched his foot as it nudged the leg of her stool, feeling the vibration of it through to where her feet her settled on the rung. Her eyes flicked up at his face when he said her name. Aurelia almost asked how he knew that, forgetting momentarily that despite being worthless in her parents’ eyes, she was still from a pureblood family. Others probably warned their children of who to keep at arm’s length before going to Hogwarts. She had always assumed that she and her siblings were known without actually being known. Because if anyone actually knew, they would be horrified about the Flint household.

”Why’s it matter to you?” she asked, immediately throwing up her own wall. She didn’t know who he even was. Sure, they seemingly had their own reasons to abandon the feast, but that didn’t make them the same. Still, it unnerved her slightly how he had used her name, as if they were familiar with one another. ”I wasn’t hungry. And I wanted to check in on my plants.” That was the truth.

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[Bran Fionn O'Dalaigh]

a little closer to grace.

jan, 2023

SEEMING JARRED BY BRAN'S GENTLY KNOCK against the leg of her stool, he noted that maybe she really didn't like any company at all. In fact, if Bran remembered keenly any of the occasions in the past where he had seen Aurelia, she was typically alone. Well, unless Bran were to count the green sea of leafy plant life that often seemed to accompany her. She never looked quite so uncomfortable then.

"Suppose it don't." Bran admitted with a calculated shrug, as if he were afraid any sudden movements would send her peeling out of the greenhouses, screaming for the first authority figure that could dock him points and give him a years worth of detentions. He let the silence wobble a bit before adding, "Making... conversation?" She hadn't even asked his name, but he still found himself angling for a reason to speak to her.

In truth, if Bran were brutally honest with himself, he knew that Aurelia didn't even know boys like Bran existed. Too tall, too awkward, mannerless even. He licked his lips and smirked into the middle distance, raising his free hand to run a hand along the dangling strand of a Moly patch boxed somewhere above his head. "Which are yours?" He asked, chancing his luck once again. He took a sneaky draw for courage, holding the smoke in his chest until it heart a little bit and he started to see stars. 

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[aurelia edith flint]

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In actuality, any conversation that wasn’t with her parents or their ilk ended up being a pleasurable experience for her. She just didn’t know how to properly talk with someone in a manner that didn’t come across like they were going to accuse or berate her. Years of verbal abuse did that. Her trust in others aside from her siblings was completely shot, and in her opinion, unfixable. Why invest in a person if they could just turn it all back around on her the moment they felt like it? Plants could never do that to her, which was why she had spent so much time in her own self-induced solitary confinement within the greenhouses of Hogwarts. Professor Longbottom had seen it way before she had too. He had once mentioned knowing her parents while in school. Apparently, they had been classmates. Despite not saying much more than that, she could see it in his eyes. They had never been good people.

So relinquishing any further information about her was a tricky subject. Keeping the conversation about why he was in the greenhouse, or which plants were hers, was far easier. Aurelia didn’t want to talk about herself anyways. It would just make her pitiable. That was almost as bad as being a burden. ”Everything on the opposite wall,” she pointed at the other end of the greenhouse. Hidden in darkness were her mundane flowers and other plants. Nothing of value to anyone but herself. The occasional magical plant lay amongst them, mostly for personal use in Potions class. Aside from looking pretty, she did like having flora that had practical means.

”It’s nothing special,” Aurelia downplayed her work. It very much was important to her. The average student that stopped taking Herbology after they weren’t required probably wouldn’t care much about it at all. At least, not like she did.

Letting silence consume the greenhouse briefly, Aurelia wasn’t sure what to do next. She didn’t like working with people she didn’t know watching her, especially not this guy. She had the feeling he would lean over her shoulder and ask questions about every little thing she did to her plants. ”So…who are you?” she finally asked. That way if he did mess up her plants, she could tell on him.

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[Bran Fionn O'Dalaigh]

a little closer to grace.

jan, 2023

THERE WAS A GOOD AMOUNT OF TIME BETWEEN Bran asking Aurelia about which plants were hers, and when he eventually received an answer. As if she didn't want to tell him, for some bizarre reason. He wondered if maybe she was just a bit of a bizarre girl, but he didn't hold it against her. Instead, he waited patiently, puffing on his joint and letting the smoke sting his eyes as he tilted his chin and admired the towers of glossy leaves brushing the edges of pots and shelves. It was almost peaceful, and Bran had nearly forgotten he'd asked when she finally answered.

"Hm-" Bran's head tilted forward, and he gave her a glassy eyed look as her soft voice registered. "Oh." He turned his attention to the back wall across from him. It was a huge space, with each plant potted carefully and tagged by a very neat soil marker. Bran wondered if she was lying, because it seemed almost unbelievable that a single person could have been responsible, and regularly tended that many different species of plants without being paid for it. He turned his head, catching her eye and deciding that no, she hadn't been lying.

Dashing out his joint on the concrete floor, Bran squished the end before he tucked the doubt into his pocket. He then ambled up onto his feet, grunting at the numbness that made his limbs tingle with heaviness. He shook each leg out for good measure, only having to stoop once, when he nearly knocked his head on an overhead planter. The pot hanging just a little loose on the shelf. He turned to push it back with a flinch, and flashed an apologetic smile at Aurelia before he moved away from his hiding place.

"The whole wall?" Bran asked, brushing his hands off on the back of his trousers as he edged past her stool. Up close, she looked twice as suspicious, and four times as pretty and he had to clear his throat and avert his gaze for fear of being told he was staring. His arm brushed her shoulder as he passed, and he felt it like static under his skin. Turning his back just to catch his bearings, he walked slowly across the room to examine her 'wall' up close. "I dunno," He mumbled, a quiet laugh of disbelief croaking in the back of his throat. "Seems pretty spectacular to me."

Bran noted the string of pearls, the Puffapods, dittany, and remarkable genus of Niffler's Fancy that glowed softly in the moonlight. From his height, he could even see the rarer plants kept well out of reach on the top shelf. Caught off guard by the magnitude of the project, he wondered just how many years and free periods she'd had to sacrifice just to maintain her extracurricular. Her voice from somewhere behind him drew his attention, though reluctantly, and he turned his head to smile at her from where he stood.

"Bran." He said softly, pretending like it wasn't a little bit of a kick in the teeth that she didn't even know him. When he certainly knew who she was, although he supposed he hadn't exactly made a name for himself. "It's Bran," He nodded his head, almost as if he were trying to convince himself as he turned back and pointed a tentative finger at the top of the shelf. "Is that a juvenile Mimbulus mimbletonia?" His eyes glinted in the dark. 

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[aurelia edith flint]

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The stink of marijuana (and whatever else was mixed in) had continued to dance around the back portion of the greenhouse as Aurelia resorted to near silence throughout their conversation. She supposed it was only fair that he occupy himself as she continued to be evasive. That didn’t detract from the fact that he had broken into the greenhouse to hide from the watchful eyes of professors, portraits, and poltergeists alike. There were probably herbologists out there that were completely cool with tobacco and other smokeable plants because they were ‘natural’. Aurelia viewed them as brief air pollutants. She didn’t care if he was out on the grounds doing this, but inside her section of the greenhouse she had been so graciously gifted?

That became the least of her problems though when he smudged the joint out and got back to his feet. For a brief moment, she thought he was calling it a night, finally. Her selective mutism holding him back from a real one-on-one definitely wasn’t for everyone, and for a good reason too. Unfortunately, all that came from his movement was that he was now interested in her plants specifically. The uncomfortable closeness in which he used to pass by her stool to look at her plants was enough to get her to feet as well. Her own lankiness was, for once, sort of nice, as she didn’t feel nearly as intimidated by his height as she probably should have.

She didn’t respond when he questioned back that the whole wall was her work, even when he called it ‘spectacular’. Because it really wasn’t. Any aspiring herbologist with the time and room could have a similar selection. Nothing she did was amazing, or cool, or out of the ordinary. Having any of that in a field that wasn’t important to the greater magical society wasn’t Flint-like at all. The moment she graduated in a little over a year from now, she was going to be expected to stop her fantasies of flowers and make a name for herself. Or else. She didn’t know what ‘or else’ was yet and didn’t dare test what it could be either. For now, she only had the greenhouse wall that they were both staring at.

Aurelia didn’t actually expect him to give his name, but Bran did so, nonetheless. It didn’t make her trust him any more than a second before, but having a name, assuming it was real, meant she had someone to throw under the bus now if a professor walked in and caught a whiff of the lingering pot smell.

”I-It is…” Aurelia was caught off guard that Bran had managed to pick out the Mimbulus Mimbletonia all the way up at the top. Not that it was a rare plant at all. Plenty of students had spent time trying to sling its stinksap at one another at some point or other throughout their Hogwarts experience. She kept it all the way up there for that exact reason. No one was poaching its horrid goo from her plant. ”A second year could point that out though,” she added with a standoffish tone in her voice as she moved closer to her wall of plants. Trying to put space between them and him, with herself as the buffer, seemed appropriate. If he was willing to light his joint with a plant, who knew what he would do with her plants.

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