July 13, '79: Root Down: Open

[Willa Robbins]

St. Mungo's Greenhouse

▶︎ If I cut it with a heart-shaped knife
And I send it to my very closest of friends
And they somehow bring it back to life
What if I only ever do it all over again?

To rise up, you gotta learn to root down...

"Parlez lentement, s’il vous plaît...à tout à l’heure...le sol n'est pas bon...regarde comment ça pousse...you're talking to yourself again, Willa."

With a laugh to herself that was, with any luck, louder than she had been practicing - it was easy to lose track among the leaves - Willa rose with a full basket of dittany. If any of the others had heard her, they were keeping to themselves too, bless them, as none commented towards the oddity as she made her way to one of the wooden workbenches scattered through the greenhouse, just a set of doors and a short corridor away from the tea room. The sun high in the sky in the middle of July, her hair was already pasted to her forehead and the back of her neck, and the spicy scent of dittany had long stained her fingers. Not all ingredients that the hospital staff used in potion-making could be grown on-site, as the local apothecaries took great pride in reminding them, but after the beginning of her apprenticeship with Ophelia Prince of Beauxbatons, Willa was proud to have joined the team caring for and preparing what they could.

Her half-year of field work back home was coming to a close at the end of the month, as she then would return to France to continue studying under the esteemed Herbology professor. Hence, the rather shoddy French that was hopefully shining up minutely ahead of her travels, thanks in great part to Ana and her cousin. With any luck, the language would be less of a barrier this time around, and friends would be easier made. She was happy and healthy and learning, and was grateful to be seen by Ophelia as she was; there had been a time when she wasn't sure if she could pursue viable work in the field, and she was! But it felt as though she had only just returned home, reunited with friends and settled in with new coworkers, and it was now time to pack up and do it all over again.

Always leaving, aren't you?

The opportunities were more sweet than they were bitter, and while the decision at this time last year to end things with Benji had been a difficult one to swallow, it was one that Willa couldn't regret. She knew herself, and she knew him - it wouldn't have been fair, for either of them, to be apart, especially as she hadn't known where she would be following the first stage of the apprenticeship. Even if, in the back of her mind, she wished she could show him this place now. He would love it as dearly as she did, from his first breath inside. With any luck, Arnie's family would make sure that happened - surely, the boys were just as close as they always were, even after graduation.

And if he's here when you're back?

That would be nice, she decided to decide, and continued her practice under her breath. It would be. He was a catch, and would have moved on, and she would be happy for him. Just the same, Mungo's would have a spot for her again, she hoped. Snipping twine at a workbench, tying together making bunches of herbs; it was good, repetitive, and it helped. Once dried, the leaves would be crushed and combined with salt water to make its essence, and used throughout the hospital as needed. She hoped to help make changes, in the future - to successfully grow in a greenhouse what they said couldn't be done, to find new uses for discarded bits, to do more. But practice, and the basics, came first. And knowing that she was part of the chain of healing here, it was a lovely feeling - and the healers, the orderlies, the patients - it was chaotic, outside of the greenhouse, and wonderful...

*speak slowly, please...see you later...the soil is not right...look how it grows...