Let the record show that Nemesis was innocently minding their business, watching the proceedings with a kind of casual disinterest. The Bernadette Grantham proceedings in particular, her reactivity, the way she had - yet again - put herself at the centre of another mess.

Another literal one. Involving more Gryffindors, naturally, plus the Kingsley brat.

They lost interest as soon as Grantham went off in a strop, and Nem instead sent another glance to Song, and now Fuller, and again gave them no further acknowledgement. All that remained was to sit back and wait for the Flamsteed Singularity to start the lesson.

Only... floral symbolism. Nem had never liked symbolism. Not because it was especially boring or anything - actually they found it somewhat interesting in other contexts, it was devious in its own way, and they could appreciate that - but because it aggravated them. Too connected to analysis, which Nem liked to engage in but did not like being the subject of. Maybe all that was a bit far flung from floral symbolism (which, actually, was the furthest thing from thrilling, useful, and interesting), but maybe it wasn't. Did it matter?

No.

It didn't.

Ultimately, Nem provided only a quiet but clearly disheartened sigh, and kept their silence. Floral symbolism did not hint at the kind of lesson that would benefit them most right now.

Kinsay wanted to insist that she needed her tie back later (as she couldn't continue making it habit to lend them out, she had already done this twice now), but she didn't want to be insensitive. Especially when Bernie looked like she was about to cry nevermind that the older Gryffindor once made Kiz feel terrible for being on the verge of tears but who was keeping track? So instead she-

O______O

Kinsay turned a brilliant shade of red upon hearing their professor say her name. In front of the whole class! She hadn't realized people were looking over and even if they were looking more at Bernie, Kizzy still felt an embarrassed, bashful sort of way as she ducked her head. She made very quick work of scurrying over to find a place to sit (by Phoebe and Atlas, now that there was an empty spot). Kiz did want cocoa, but it would mean having to spend more time standing up in front of everyone and she really didn't want to draw anymore attention to herself.

So she'd just sit here and feel a pang of want all class. It probably wasn't that good anyway, right?

As for the question of floral symbolism, Kinsay, admittedly, did not know a whole lot on the subject. She didn't want to admit this, of course, so instead she stayed quiet and listened to everyone else. Until Phoebe said something about using the flowers as a way to communicate because people didn't have the ability to just say things. This brought about a THOUGHT (Kinsays had lots of those) and her hand shot up in the air as a result. "Did cavemen use floral symbolism to communicate?" They didn't know how to say what they meant. They mostly just grunted. Just like yeti. That's something Kinsay knew for a fact. It sounded enough like a fact to believe it was one, anyway.

Irithel just wanted a normal lesson in her favourite subject. Was that too much to ask??

She had not grabbed a cup of hot cocoa, because she thought a warm sweet drink would distract her from the lesson. She was correct, of course, though she had not imagined the distraction to involve cocoa spit and ... all that mess. With an annoyed eye roll, she focused on the first question: floral symbolism. The Ravenclaw had to admit that she was disappointed. She was not interested in learning how to convey lovey-dovey or I-hate-you messages using flowers. Emotions are overrated. Symbolism is arbitrary. Red is love, yellow is friendship. Who decided all that, and why? Certainly not the plants themselves. Irithel liked flowers, but she preferred studying their intrinsic nature, not what sentimental humans thought about them. Her notebook in front of her and quill in hand, she listened to her classmates' responses without writing anything down, because she had yet to hear an answer that meant much to her.

WHAT WAS HAPPENING?!

For once in his brief and incredibly turbulent Hogwarts career Atlas had thought that he had actually handled something properly. He had apologized, provided a reasonable excuse, offered a solution, AND YET THIS WAS STILL BLOWING UP IN HIS FACE! Okay, well, technically speaking any of the blowing up had been in BERNIE''s face and because of the first year BUT at least it was just hot cocoa and saliva and not like...a ruined potion or something. Priorities, people.

His eyes widened as Bernie stood and stormed out, or rather made an attempt to. Again, Atlas found himself questioning priorities because of all the things to be DONE with...first years was not it. This coming from a first year. No bias at all.

Life only became MORE complicated when Bernie started coming back and with Kinsay of ALL people. He really did wish he had scooted closer to Quinn and not let his Gryffindor pouting get to him. Why was being 11 SO hard?! He was in the middle of throwing himself a silent pity party when Auntie Professor Flamsteed began the lesson. Well, FIRST she was scolding him and he was blurting out his defense, er, defensively without thinking about it.

"I didn't do nothing on purpose!" he explained fervently. "She called you my mum and it...and it surprised me and was a laughable thought and I couldn't keep the mouth full of cocoa in!" Which also efficiently outed his lie to Bernie about his beverage being too hot but...oh well? And he already HAD apologized AND offered his handkerchief which she HAD taken and now he faced the awkward crossroads of asking for it back. He had just lent it to her, after all. It wasn't hers to keep and he was really fond of the pattern...

Erm...

He felt bad but only a little because laughter these days was kind of hard to come by that Quinn had gotten in trouble too...though now it seemed as though everyone was settling in to place so...focus time? It was kind of hard to focus after all THAT though. And that he kept eyeing Bernie and wondering how he could ask for his handkerchief back.

"When you call someone a honking daffodil unusually it means you're loud or obnoxious." Not that he was speaking from experience or anything.

Lucky for him, he had been carrying around tissues with him for a while, in case he started crying in class. He used some to wipe the cocoa off his face—though he would still need a trip to the restrooms later to wipe his face with some water.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I didn't mean to squirt cocoa out of my nose. I had some in my mouth and was trying not to laugh and then..." he gestured to his nose. He thought that mentioning he was laughing because Atlas spit cocoa in Bernie's face wouldn't help the situation whatsoever. But it was funny, in the moment.

As for the lesson at hand, he knew quite a bit about the symbolism of flowers; that stuff always interested him, especially because he had so many. "Well, like some others said, different flowers and different colors can have different meanings. But symbolism can also vary by culture. Like the chrysanthemum—in many Asian cultures, it symbolizes rebirth, in America it symbolizes joy, but in a couple European countries, like Italy and France, it's an expression of sympathy and only given to someone who's lost a loved one. So, one flower can mean so many different things." He didn't mind rambling in this class; he knew that he knew what he was talking about, and the Professor never minded his getting excited about plants.

Why was there ALWAYS something happening at Hogwarts? Could they go a day with just being normal? No drama? Or was this their signature? Lame.

Lilith plucked off her gloves, finger by finger and gently set them insider her bag before taking a sip of the hot cocoa. She had been quite impressed by the kind gesture, she had forgotten to greet the professor. Oops. "Hello...and thank you," she added as the professor sent her a smile. She didn't mean to forget. They were just dealing with plently of traumatic experiences lately that greetings were left at the bottom of the list.

Taking another careful sip of the hot cocoa, Lilith thought about the question asked, then raised her hand. "Like someone already mentioned--" she didn't remember who, nor cared "-- floral symbolism is about expressing sentiments. According to readings, it may be possible to express almost every sentiment with a certain flower." Then she added, "And I think that would depend on the person too. Not everyone feels the same about certain feelings." M'hm. "For example, if someone gave me a rose it'd be cute, but it would be more meaningful to me if they gave me, my favorite flower instead." See, see.

After a paused, Lilith raised her hand again. "Professor, do you how or who determined what sentiment a flower expressed?" Because it wasn't really fair. A rose is overrated in love. Not many would think that, but she did. A white rose sometimes meant sadness, but not everyone felt the same. See where she was going? WHO decided for everyone else what a flower means?

Violet glanced to her side as she felt the usually exuberant Gryffindor seat herself next to her, a stray drop or two of cocoa flying off her hair and landing on Violet's parchments. Usually Violet would feel compelled to make a snarky remark of outrage about this, but today, seeing as how the girl probably had enough problems to be dealing with, Violet just pulled out her spare handkerchief, folded into a neat square, and discretely slid it across the desk to where Bernie was sitting. Violet kept her eyes up front, to allow the other girl some time to pull herself together.

Giggling slightly at the drama between some of the older students, Ingrid did her best to sit quietly and not draw too much attention to herself as she waited for the lesson to start.

Now that all of that was sorted, Ingrid paused for a moment before she raised her hand to try and answer the question. [B]“Professor, I’m not sure what symbolism is but floral obviously has something to do with flowers. I know the names of some flowers mean certain things, don’t they?”[B]. Thinking back, hadn’t her father told her about the names of flowers coming from some kind of old language?

“So I guess, umm”, she paused again, a little unsure of where exactly she wanted to go next, the answer not fully formed in her little Luck brain. Biting her lip, she just looked at the Professor for a moment with a lost look on her face before she finally continued.

“Never mind”. Everyone else seemed like such experts. Why couldn’t it be about magical creatures or something that she actually knew about! Pulling her cocoa up towards her lips, she took a sip and looked away quickly, resigned to the fact that she wasn’t going to answer another question for the rest of the lesson.

Due to circumstances waaayyy out of her control, Samia is having some difficulties continuing the lesson at the moment. I've decided to close it until she can make a proper decision just so no one's left in limbo. Thank you for your understanding <3