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» 03 June 2021 || They Can Smell Your Intentions, Tag: Gwilym
Declan Bishop
 Posted: Feb 24 2018, 04:57 PM
QUOTE     
Jess is Offline
140
posts
18 years old

7th Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


For all Tristan’s griping about the subject, it did not surprise Declan to learn that his younger brother shared the same genetic aversion to anything concerning the study of plants. Perhaps the Nott family at large was just incapable of taking care of living creatures deemed ‘lesser,’ but then he supposed that couldn’t be true, if Tristan’s romantic inclinations were to be taken into consideration. Mudbloods and blood traitors required their own sort of tending. What did come as a surprise was that, unlike his brother, Gwilym Nott did not shy away from asking for help. So close to exams, Declan wasn’t sure what could really be done to help him if he didn’t already know the material, but Tristan had done enough to save his arse this year, Declan figured he was squarely in his debt. He owed it to him to at least try.

He’d agreed to meet the younger Nott in the first year greenhouses once he was done exams for the day. He wouldn’t consider himself to be a particularly good teacher, but he had done his fair share of coaching during his tenure as Quidditch captain. He also knew plants better than just about anyone here at school. If nothing else, he thought as he made his way across the grounds, he might save the boy the humiliation of being blindsided by a failing mark when results were released.

Declan arrived before Gwilym. He took the liberty of tossing his school bag onto one of the workbenches. It was strange, not having to consider whether his bag-dumping location might put him at risk of a minor burn or of unwittingly transporting spores back to the castle. The first year greenhouses were so tame in comparison to the ones reserved for NEWT-level students, or even the greenhouses he tended back home. Still, the smell was comforting; soil and earth and decay and moisture thickened the warm air. He shrugged off his outer cloak and draped it with slightly more care over the bag he’d shedded moments before, then took care to roll up the white sleeves of his uniform shirt. With the elves on strike, laundry wasn’t a guarantee, and although he was no stranger to dirt, that didn’t mean he wanted to roam around for his last two weeks at school wearing soiled or stained clothes.

As he fixed his sleeves, he cast a look about the greenhouses, wondering where he ought to start. Bouncing bulbs had been entertaining for first years, from what he remembered, but the ones in this greenhouse had matured beyond their frivolous, harmless sprouting stages. They might’ve proved a good way to test Gwilym’s knowledge of plant-handling, but he didn’t want to throw something at him that he wasn’t ready for. Perhaps tending to the Asphodel--and being reminded of its uses--would be a more appropriate place to start.

The greenhouse door drew his attention and he waved in greeting, indicating that Gwilym should place his things to the side. “Alright, Gwilym?” Thinking the name and saying it aloud were two very different things. Declan detested the complexities of the Welsh language. Everything was just this side of annoying to pronounce. It made him feel like he was chewing the vowels in the back of his mouth. “You should know I’ll be of no help to you if you haven’t already done your revision and put in the work yourself, so tell me: are you going to waste my time?” He folded his arms loosely across his chest, appraising the boy who’d entered. “Better to tell me now than for me to find out later. I won’t be kind about it.”

@Phone
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Gwilym Nott
 Posted: Mar 3 2018, 09:47 AM
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61
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12 years old

2nd Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Gwil did not like Herbology, and so little practicality in it. He wasn't so stubborn to completely write it off. He knew it helped in various situations, but they were situations that he had little to no interest in. It seemed silly to nurture and cultivate plants that would eventually die. No amount of care would prevent this. For the most part, plants were fleeting and inconsequential. Gwil maintained excellent grades in the subject, but that mostly came from exams and homework. He was less sure about practical applications. He still had cuts on his hands from his last Herbology lesson. Maybe Gwill could pick up some tips from Bishop. At the same time, Gwil was never one to be average at anything. He wanted to be better than everyone in his class, even if he thought the subject stupid. Still, that wasn't his primary reason for asking for this meeting.

Bishop was a friend of Tristan, which made him a chess piece in the game Gwil had been playing against his brother. Gwil could not lie and say he was looking forward to this. Oddly his lessons with Louis had become enjoyable, though Gwil couldn't fathom why. There was just a comfort to them. This, he felt like he was about to dip himself in the black lake. He knew Declan to be old school with his values. He imagined he was the kind of son that Gwil's mother would have loved. Well, without the love part. He played Quidditch, which was yet another reason to hate him. He had a nice last name, but that was about all of the positive praise Gwil could muster.

Gwil entered the greenhouse with deliberate strides. He put his stuff away as directed. He felt very little need to put on an act with Declan. It was likely that Tristan had informed his friend of Gwil's true nature. Plus, it was harder to fool Slytherins. Gwil simply nodded in response to Bishop's question. He fixed the older boy with an exasperated glare. "Don't speak to me as if I'm your common variety first year twat. If I wanted to learn the basics, I'd read a book. I'm beyond this juvenile subject as it stands, so I need you to prove to me that it can be useful with some more advanced work. So, it is you who should not waste my time." Maybe Tristan hadn't warned Declan of what Gwil was. Hmmm, he could work with that. Gwil laughed at the boy's last statement.

"Oh no, unkindness. What ever will I do? Emotionally abusive mam and a physically abusive tad? No, I'm scared of the barely legal wizard with a green thumb?" He waved the boy off. "Spare me the posturing. You are a flee compared to what I’m used to."

@Jess

This post has been edited by Gwilym Nott: Mar 3 2018, 09:50 AM
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Declan Bishop
 Posted: Mar 16 2018, 04:40 PM
QUOTE     
Jess is Offline
140
posts
18 years old

7th Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Declan had put up with Tristan on the pitch for an entire year. He was used to his friend's mannerisms and bravado, his ego and teasing, and so he thought he might have an idea of what to expect from a smaller, brattier little brother type cut from the same cloth. When Gwilym entered the greenhouse, however, it was clear that Declan was in no way prepared. The boy's glare was icy, eerie almost for a kid of his age. Declan supposed it might've intimidated some people, but he wasn't about to be knocked about by a twelve year-old. He grinned in response. "Tetchy," he congratulated him with a shrug, mentally abandoning the tentative plans he'd had. It was obvious the first year greenhouses wouldn't hold anything of interest for the youngest Nott. If nothing else, it seemed he'd inherited his brother's disdain for the subject closest to Declan's heart. That was a mild disappointment.

He cocked his head to consider the would-be heir, studying him with a mixture of amusement and thoughtfulness. "Bit sad you've already dismissed something so useful as not being worth your time, but you're twelve-going-on-fifty, are you?" Declan might not have been a proper pureblood, but his childhood had been spent learning the practices and the etiquette––and the posturing, which his father might've said comprised most of pureblood life outside of one's own estate. He didn't think that Gwilym could hope to get very far in society at all, if this sourness was how he greeted potential allies of his house.

"So, you obviously didn't come here for exam-tutoring. What is it you want, Gwilym? You must want something, to have gone to such trouble. I've heard your mum keeps greenhouses at home. Surely you've seen what sorts of uses plants can have with proper application. Or were you not allowed inside because she feared you might get eaten for your arrogance?" He shook his head, already bored with Gwilym's entitlement. Even Ophelia, who hated getting her hands dirty and could be plenty entitled herself, understood that plants commanded her respect if nothing and no-one else did.

"Alright, you want something more advanced?" Declan tipped his head toward the bouncing bulbs. "Forgive me if I won't take your word for it that you're past your years. I'll need some proof before we move on. Those shouldn't pose a problem for you, if you're being truthful." Typically in first year, the bouncing bulb plants handled were quite young and very small for the young hands that would be tending them. They'd grown since that initial lesson in the beginning of the year, maturing quickly as they tended to do. They certainly weren't small now, having tripled in size at least. The leaves atop the purple bulbs were somewhat overgrown. "Could use a pruning." He moved to the workbench to retrieve a pair of secateurs, and offered them handle-first to Gwilym. "Go on, then."

@Phone
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Gwilym Nott
 Posted: Apr 8 2018, 12:06 PM
QUOTE     
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61
posts
12 years old

2nd Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Gwil would have detested the idea of being compared to his brother in such a way. Tristan was a preening peacock. Gwil flew with the grace and regality of a falcon. He was aware that his icy glares had little impact at his age, but if he kept it up, he'd be a force to be reckoned with when he was older. When he was Declan's age, he'd make people bow down to him with a mere glance. He wasn't sure if that's what he actually wanted. He tried pretending to be sweet and innocent, but it was very draining. Maybe he could find a happy medium. He had to be flexible. In his opinion, the rest of his family lacked this essential trait.

"The sad thing is putting so much faith in it." Gwil could posture and pretend to be civil and kind, but that was with people he wanted to impress. Declan was very far off that list. As for making it far in pureblood society. Gwil saw very little point in the endeavor. Tristan in power, and his children would be the heir. Short of killing his brother, there was no higher standing he could obtain within this world. Magical government? Please, as if he'd waste his breath. He wasn't sure what he wanted out of life, but impressing privileged punks like Declan was for sure not a part of it. If anything, he wanted to clean out and rid of the old systems that gave people like Declan power.

"Exactly what I said, exam-tutoring. Well, to learn a grade above that." He waved his hand with dismissiveness. He was getting better at making it look like nonchalant boredom. "You overvalue yourself to think I want something from you other than what I requested. With people like you, I'm quite direct." Gwil rolled his eyes. "I'm aware they have uses from a logistical standpoint. But most of those uses are out of my scope of interest. Healing and potion making do not interest me, and will likely not play a part in my future goals. I can have people handle that. Healers, and the like. When I say useful, I mean something that is essential to everyone's existence. Like reading, or writing. How to manage money, defensive spells. A person could go their whole life without knowing what mandrake can be used for. Muggles live without it." He rolled his eyes again. "You speak of arrogance as if you are not a master of it.

Gwil took the offered tools. "Fine whatever." He approached the bulbs without even the slightest bit of hesitation. As soon as he attempted to prune; the little devils began to bounce aggressively. One nearly poked him the eye. He had dealt with these in class, but they had been smaller. He was having none of this. He pulled out his wan. "Incendio," he said simply. The nearest bulb withered as it was engulfed in flames.

@Jess
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