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- 12/2024 (37)
Orwell had been surprised upon getting his letter telling him all about the new term that he had been made the leader of the wild patch club, he had enjoyed his time among it in the previous year, and here he was in charge it. He had excitedly loud Archie who had then been made to join, or would join once things got started. Orwell however was so excited about his role that he'd been planning things for weeks, he wanted to set up a vegetable and herb garden as part of the Hogwarts garden, he wanted to produce natural products which the elves could then use to make food for the students, so he knew where at least some of food was coming from. He wanted to get this place to start using far more natural products. Which was why he had come to Hogwarts equipped with his books from home, more about the planting season, and how best to tell which plants should go where, of seeds and strict instructions on the spells to try when making them grow, he had also consulted books from the Hogwarts library which sat stacked on his bedside table. He didn't want to be a group leader who did nothing, not when he was so capable, he wanted the input of others within the club, and he didn't even really like the fact he was a group leader, since he didn't like to think of himself above others in any way. It went against almost everything he stood for. The anarchist was currently out in the gardens, he was wearing old clothes, far older than the ones he usually wore. They were dirty, old and worn, with plenty of holes, but perfect for the fact he was currently tidying up a little section of the garden he'd managed to corner off for their use.
The teen had a box of his utensils, of the different things which he had borrowed from the herbology greenhouses. Brock had a large box beside that, which houses little creatures that he had removed from the dirt so that they wouldn't end up getting killed by accident, he was working very carefully, going through the motions of finding the correct place to plant what he'd brought. Potatoes, carrots, strawberries, he had plans to grow some mint, some parsley. He wanted to start simply and hopefully when the clubs were in session they would be able to grow extra things, he had a chart of when things were best to be planted and he had his notes on allowing the soil to replenish too. Orwell had taken off his shoes to work in the dirt, it wasn't too muddy since it hadn't rained all that much in the last few days, he hadn't wanted to get any dirt on his shoes, and for that reason too he had rolled up his jean legs so they were above his ankle. The ravenclaw teen stood up to full height and then smiled happily, it was looking pretty good. He made his way out of his little area to where he'd left his stuff, a bottle of fresh water, half drunk, Kitchen picked it up and drank thirstily from it. Some days at Hogwarts he felt too distant from his roots, from his community but he was happy with this, happy with the responsibility he had been given, Orwell had stuck a proud eco-anarchist flag in the furtherest corner of the garden, with the words Wild Patch written across it. Yes, this was perfect. As Orwell drank his water, he watched as a little bird sat down on the garden bed, Brock knelt down and smiled at it, the bird didn't seem put off by Orwell's presence, so he reached out carefully and slowly, until he was able to touch it, and stroked it's feather's lightly. A smile erupting on the young teen's face, yeah, forget all the books, forget the OWLs, forget the professors, this kind of thing was just as important, nature, life, plants, this was his element, everything he had left behind.
<i></i>The teen had a box of his utensils, of the different things which he had borrowed from the herbology greenhouses. Brock had a large box beside that, which houses little creatures that he had removed from the dirt so that they wouldn't end up getting killed by accident, he was working very carefully, going through the motions of finding the correct place to plant what he'd brought. Potatoes, carrots, strawberries, he had plans to grow some mint, some parsley. He wanted to start simply and hopefully when the clubs were in session they would be able to grow extra things, he had a chart of when things were best to be planted and he had his notes on allowing the soil to replenish too. Orwell had taken off his shoes to work in the dirt, it wasn't too muddy since it hadn't rained all that much in the last few days, he hadn't wanted to get any dirt on his shoes, and for that reason too he had rolled up his jean legs so they were above his ankle. The ravenclaw teen stood up to full height and then smiled happily, it was looking pretty good. He made his way out of his little area to where he'd left his stuff, a bottle of fresh water, half drunk, Kitchen picked it up and drank thirstily from it. Some days at Hogwarts he felt too distant from his roots, from his community but he was happy with this, happy with the responsibility he had been given, Orwell had stuck a proud eco-anarchist flag in the furtherest corner of the garden, with the words Wild Patch written across it. Yes, this was perfect. As Orwell drank his water, he watched as a little bird sat down on the garden bed, Brock knelt down and smiled at it, the bird didn't seem put off by Orwell's presence, so he reached out carefully and slowly, until he was able to touch it, and stroked it's feather's lightly. A smile erupting on the young teen's face, yeah, forget all the books, forget the OWLs, forget the professors, this kind of thing was just as important, nature, life, plants, this was his element, everything he had left behind.