 Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
Freya watched the steady flush of his ears and collapse of his ponytail with growing amusement. By the time his hand dropped away, the tie appeared to, from where she was sitting, serve just as much practical purpose as the curling Tentacula. She considered informing him about his hair but decided against it, leaving the observation mercifully unspoken for now.
When he mentioned learning to forage for information before acting, Freya found herself grimacing slightly. Not because she disagreed, but because he was right. Half of Defence amounted to gathering clues before making a decision. Somehow, she had never considered that plants might require the same approach.
"That sounds far more reasonable than the textbook's preferred strategy of throwing fifty plants at my head and hoping one sticks," she admitted. "I suppose I do spend most Defence lessons looking for patterns."
A thoughtful pause followed. "So you're saying these are all just quieter about their patterns." Her gaze drifted toward the Tentacula again. "Some of them anyway."
The question earned a long look from Freya. Unlike earlier, she didn't immediately reach for her textbook. That alone felt significant. Instead, she considered it the same way she might evaluate a defensive scenario.
"Well..." Her eyes drifted toward the greenhouse ceiling as she thought. "Reliable access to water would obviously be useful. So a plant wouldn't need to spend nearly as much energy conserving moisture. Larger leaves, maybe. Faster growth."
A beat passed.
"But too much rainfall sounds like its own problem―drowning roots, rot, soil washing away. And if we're talking dense forests or jungle environments, sunlight becomes a problem too."
Freya blinked. Then blinked again.
"...Oh."
The realization hit somewhere around the same moment she noticed she was no longer trying to memorize facts. She was solving a problem.
The sort-of apology earned an immediate laugh. "Counterintuitive and mildly maddening?" Freya repeated. "That describes roughly half the professors at Hogwarts." Probably more.
She opened her mouth to continue before her gaze landed on the back of his head. A pause followed. Then another.
"Nyle. You do realize your ponytail has completely given up, don't you?"
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