I keep my visions to myself [Andy]

Circe was, thus far, most pleased with how the schoolyear had been going. Of course, it had only just started. She'd made prefect, and had actually gotten assigned a decent plant for an assignment in Herbology. She had purchased some plant pots for a project that she and her mother had talked about starting together once she graduated from Hogwarts-- a container garden of sorts that she could have in an apartment, and her mother had kindly owled her one of the prettier ones that they'd picked out to replant her rosemary in.

She was, thankfully, alone in the greenhouse. Many of her tormentors had graduated, and she was glad to be free of them. She hummed a soft tune to the plant, which she had named Gloria, as she carefully placed it into it's new home-- which was made to look like a large, decorative teacup-- and made sure everything was perfect. "There, there now. Isn't that better?" She spoke quietly to the plant. She'd always loved the way that rosemary smelled, and all of the symbolism behind the plant as well. Healing, love, purification, protection! She couldn't think of anything better suited to her. If she was allowed to keep it, perhaps she could make a wreath out of it or something? She had thought that she had read, somewhere, that it had been something that the Ancient Greeks had done. With a name like hers, why not?

She had also read that it was good to sing to plants. She was alone, so why not? Giving a quick look around, Circe scooted her seat in a little closer to the table where her rosemary plant sat and she sang softly, "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I--"

Suddenly, Circe was incredibly aware that she was no longer alone. Her cheeks turned pink and she was even more mortified once she saw who was there.

"Good evening, Lovecraft."

@Andronicus Lovecraft

Andronicus had been busy all summer doing Merlin knew what. Busy enough, he'd nearly let his Agrimony plant from the last term die sitting on the sill in his mother's solarium. One of the maids had tended to it, but not very well. The poor thing had wilted leaves by the end of summer. It needed some attention, that was certain. Andronicus wasn't the best of students, but he wasn't lazy either. And with a Ravenclaw Head Girl for a girlfriend, he couldn't precisely let all of his grades slip either. It was their last year; he was Quidditch captain, and somehow Andy couldn't shake the feeling like they were all on the top of the world. He wasn't really thinking about the future, just about their senior year at Hogwarts, and it was off to a good start so far.

After classes, he'd swapped into a more comfortable pair of cargo shorts and a loose-fitting Harpies shirt before heading down to the greenhouses. He had the afternoon free, so it was easy enough to escape the castle and find himself in one of the greenhouses that weren't used for lessons. Professor Ajay let them keep their plants there over the term, and Andy had meant to get down here for the last few days. Almost as soon as he arrived, he'd used his wand to put a kettle on. Getting down to business, Andy went headfirst into the mess of cabinets looking for the right fertilizer. He'd made the mistake of thinking he was all alone, but he blinked a few times when hearing a voice singing.

It wouldn't have been the first time a magical plant did something creepy or acted like a human, so he could barely rule out it's potential being some kind of flower singing. Pulling his head out of the cabinet, the Slytherin turned to walk around the cabinets into the greenhouse's central area, and his eyes landed on Circe, another seventh year Slytherin, and one of their Prefects.

She realized he was there before he said anything, and he frowned at the informal greeting. "Hello to you too, Sutcliffe," he said with a bit of playful sarcasm. He was all too familiar with what his cousin Roderick and some of the others called her, but Andy wouldn't use that name, not ever. Addressing another person by their last name had always been something that made Andronicus feel awkward. Even more so now, that he wished he could shed his stuffy Pureblood name and all of the preconceived notions that came with it. He had never felt like Androncicus Octavian Lovecraft, heir to the Lovecraft fortune, but he mostly didn't in these last two years. He was Andy, just Andy. Casually, funny, and a little bit reckless, Andy.

"You can call me Andy, you know, I mean, we've only been in the same house for six years now," He toyed with her, that dimpled smile brightening up his face. Brushing some dirt off his bright green and yellow shirt, he accidentally knocked one of the enchanted Quidditch players off their broom as they flew around his midsection. "Woops," he said as the little cartoon witch scrambled to get back on the broom. "Fancy some tea?" He asked Circe politely as the kettle behind him started to whistle.

It would be a flat-out lie to say that Circe had never been so mortified-- because, believe me, she had-- but it had certainly been a while. She tugged nervously at her skirt. What's his motive? It wasn't often that her housemates, and particularly her yearmates, went out of their way to be kind to her. She didn't belong. Boys like Roderick and his friends had made that very clear to her, and so she could not fathom why Andy was speaking to her now. She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight onto one leg, offering only the smallest of smiles.

"Hi, Andy. Can I help you?" Oh. Shit. Tea? "Um, sure. I guess." She quickly remembered her manners. "Thank you." Circe thought that perhaps she could at least give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he really was having a change of heart? Still, she didn't trust him. That was still no reason to be rude until he gave her a reason to be. "I like your shirt."

She, herself, was sporting a button-up shirt underneath a black, cashmere sweater, paired with her black skirt. black stockings, and green canvas sneakers. A teal-colored flannel jacket was tied around her waist and she wore a green scrunchie on her wrist.

"Anyway, how was your summer?"

Moving quickly, Andronicus gave her a sharp nod and then turned to grab a tea for both of them. About seven million teacups were scattered around the greenhouses, none of them from matching sets, with little chips or dents from constant use. In the greenhouse, a teacup wasn't just a teacup, it was a measuring cup for dirt and water, it was a temporary home for transplants, and it was a sleeping slop for Loomley and the other herbology denizens that roamed freely. Andronicus knew better than to pour tea into a cup without looking, and after finding a little plant growing in the first one, and a spider in the second, the wizard finally secured a couple of cups for them.

"Oh hey, thanks," he said with a smile, his back still to her as he prepped the teas. "I've got one for Portree too, but I like green better." Andronicus returned to her at the table and placed one of the two glasses down in front of her. Bobbing his tea bag up and down, he took her question as an invitation to join her and sat. "It was fine, got a job, quit the job, you know the usual." Andronicus chuckled before finishing his detail-lacking story. "But I had a totally legitimate reason for quitting," he nodded. Working at the Lovecraft apothecary and spa was sort of always his destiny. He knew he was supposed to become the master potioneer one day, but he wasn't planning on it. And after spending this summer washing little old ladies' hair and getting his butt cheeks pinched, he knew it absolutely was not the job for him. Being in charge or not, nope, he had other plans.

"How bout' yours?"

Circe offered a small smile, though she was still suspicious. Andy, to her recollection, had never really gone out of his way to be kind to her before. He had never been quite as bad as Rod, but Rod was a special breed of-- well, nothing kind. "Green is better." She agreed with a nod and sat down at the table, smoothing her skirt underneath her. The blonde girl watched as he prepped the tea and folded her hands in her lap.

"My summer was... interesting. I had a lot of fun, actually, despite everything." She had spent most of her summer with her friends and boyfriend. Though, in all fairness, Ezra had not been her boyfriend for all or even for the majority of the summer. She'd been feeling a little insecure about it, and especially what with the sudden physical distance. Just as it was difficult for her to understand why her housemate was suddenly being nice to her, she was also failing to comprehend how someone as gorgeous as Ezra Cohen-- who did have a bit of a reputation-- would ever stay interested in someone like her.

She missed Jae and Jam too. She and Janae had gotten tattoos together, secretly, just before she returned to school. Tock had done the honors. She'd never admit it out loud, but if she were truly honest with herself then she still had sort of a thing for him. He was too old for her and he had a girlfriend, even if she were single. It was just a schoolgirl fantasy. Still, he was pretty dreamy. She prepared her tea with a considerable amount of sugar before taking a sip.

"So, have you thought about what you'd like to do after Hogwarts?"

After he'd finished the teas, he slid hers across the table to her. It nearly got caught on a cracked board, sloshing a little, but none had spilled, and Andy smiled. "Despite everything?" He pried, not understanding the context made him frustrated. He was glad she had a good summer, but he was too curious not to ask for more information.

He sipped his tea, but it was too hot to drink. Instead of blowing on it, the Seventh year reached for his wand and murmured a chilling charm. Smirking as the tiniest bit of blueish magic passed through his wand and into the steaming tea, Andronicus tested it again, perfection. Moving around to get comfortable, the hyperactive teenager never stopped fidgeting even as she asked the year's most popular question.

"I want to start my own broom business, you know, building them. Enchanting, selling, repairing, so on." It sounded like a message on repeat; Andy had said these things so many times this month. At the end of the year, everyone wanted to know your summer plans, and the wizard was learning quickly that everyone wanted to know after graduation plans during your seventh year. It was like a conversation they all were sharing, and he didn't hate it; it was nice to get feedback and find out what his classmates were planning.

Shrugging some, the Slytherin continued, "My family is going to pretty much demand I start working at the apothecary though. Gotta' start training to take over the business and all that," Waving his hands around while he spoke, it was clear Andy wasn't taking it too seriously. He'd been the heir his whole life, his destiny was predetermined, but he didn't want it. "Thing is, I bloody hate potions." He confessed, leaning forward and chuckling.

"How about you? Got any grand plans?"

"My parents finalized their divorce over the summer." Circe didn't care enough about the situation, now, to worry about him or any of their housemates using the information against her. She was caring less and less about what people thought these days. She offered a small smile and performed a chilling charm before taking a sip. Just right.

She listened to Lovec--Andy's answer, and it was one that she understood. Her family had plans for her, too. Each of her parents had a separate dream for her. Her mother, Victoria, wanted her to go to law school with Ezra. Her father, Phoebus, wanted her to become a healer. She didn't want either of those things. The more she thought about a little house and a law degree and a white picket fence, the more anxious she felt. Circe knew that would never make her happy. Not really. It just made her feel like running away.

"I.. can relate, actually. I never really thought we had much in common until now." Circe offered a small smile and a shrug. "My dad wants me to become a healer, and my mum wants me to go to law school. I don't want to do either. I want to move to Paris and go to the art school there. I'm used to disappointing them, by now." She gave a quiet laugh. "You should have seen them when they'd found out I was sorted into Slytherin."

Divorce was such a strange concept in Andronicus' world. Even though all of the bad things his parents had done, or perhaps in spite of it, they had never gotten a divorce. Andronicus had a half brother out of wedlock, and even that hadn't been enough to split his parents up. A cynical teenager part of him assumed it had nothing to do with their earth-shattering, true love for one another, and more to do with the reputation they had to uphold. As a prominent pureblooded family, divorce wasn't really an option. He nodded sympathetically while she explained, not having much to add, but wanting her to know he understood what she was saying and was sorry about it.

Getting more comfortable in his seat Isaac took a sip of the tea that was now a perfect temperature and chuckled at her words. He'd felt the same, she was the opposite of what a Slytherin typically was, and the more it was brought up, the more she seemed to lean into the fact. As a young wizard, Andronicus had gone in the other direction, something he'd regret and be making up for probably the rest of his Hogwarts career. He had chosen to follow the wrong influences, and become what they thought he should be. As a child, he hadn't been brave enough to stick up for himself, but he was now, and everything was different.

"Oh Paris, that's cool," He nodded, his thoughts sticking to pieces of what she was saying here and there, as he continued to nod. "I can only imagine," He smiled brightly. "My big sister was sorted into Gryffindor, not that it surprised anyone, but most of our family has been in Slytherin, so it was... awkward." Eleanora was strong and brave, far more than Andronicus had been before, so it made sense that she'd shot right up to the house of the lions while he was sentenced to time in the dungeons. "Would you have rather been in another house?" He asked, curious as always, but that wildly dimpled smile showed zero judgment or malice behind his words.