SSRPG Yearbook Term 50
Herbology
“Green thumbs are awesome!”
If you agree with that statement, you not only have gained access to Professor Wishart’s hidden terrace near his office but probably also enjoy Herbology. Or you simply like having green thumbs. This year your green thumbs are being fostered by newly hired Joshua Wishart, who, incidentally, was one of the few staff members allowed to stay at Hogwarts after the takeover by (now fortunately former) Headmaster Scrimgeour. There have been some rumors that he might have been part of the Ministry-appointed staff from the start but seeing as my sources are telling me that he’s allowed to stay on for the following term as well, we have decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. For now.
Unless you wanted to have boils on your face, there was no way you would have missed the Herbology lessons this term, seeing as they took place right after the morning S.O.R.E. Hopefully you still got a chance to shower or at least re-apply some deodorant before coming to class, however. For your colleagues’ sake. And the plants’ of course. One of the first classes of the term focused on a plant most students had already seen or heard of: the Venomous Tentacula. Which looked A LOT like Professor Wishart’s office doors. The jury is still out on whether that is supposed to be an inviting decorative choice or whether it is supposed to keep unwanted students away. But I digress… Seeing as the Venomous Tentacula had been overfed with fertilizer over the summer (allegedly by the house elves), they would have to have their surplus juice extracted. After some words of caution from the students – ”they use their vines to strangle their prey” (Lucas Dakest) or “they can be scary” (Thadius Potter) – and a rogue spell intended for the plants’ vines (please work on your aim more, Derf), everyone was sufficiently riled up to get started on the extraction of the plant’s juices. Professor Wishart clearly misread the vibe inside the greenhouse when he stated that everyone was probably just “waiting to get closer and more personal with the Tentaculas”. No offense, professor, but that’s a hard no. Nonetheless, after trimming the Venomous Tentaculas’ leaves and feeding them some (dead) chizpurfle, the juice could be extracted by squeezing the entire Venomous Tentacula plant while holding it over a bowl. Easy enough, right? No.
Another notable lesson took place in December, focusing on deciduous plants. Unfortunately, the class would not be focusing on the Whomping Willow, despite the fact that it, too, sheds its leaves according to the seasons. Not everyone – this author included! – agreed with Professor Wishart’s assessment of this being an unfortunate event, however. Instead, Shrivelfigs were on the agenda (fortunately), Professor Wishart apparently wanting to pay tribute to Nymphadora Tonks and Severus Snape. With their aggressively strong roots – the shrivelfigs, not Tonks and Snape – they are incredibly resilient and able to survive in any environment, producing small purple fruits used in healing and potions making. With the help of mooncalf fertilizer (sorry, no dragons whose name and scale color you could inquire, Derf) everyone was asked to plant a baby shrivelfig in the greenhouse which...turned into a dirt fight instigated by Sterling Archer Calrissian. The Hufflepuff was clearly set on rebelling against Headmaster Scrimgeour’s regime. Not very successfully, however. After this short (and quite unnecessary) disruption, the rest of the lesson was spent taking care of adult shrivelfigs, trimming their leaves, and plucking and skinning their fruits with a potato peeler. Compared to the overall atmosphere and other lessons this past term, Herbology was still one of the more educational classes. Hopefully this trend continues onto the next term and Professor Wishart doesn’t turn out to be a spy for Scrimgeour after all...
If you agree with that statement, you not only have gained access to Professor Wishart’s hidden terrace near his office but probably also enjoy Herbology. Or you simply like having green thumbs. This year your green thumbs are being fostered by newly hired Joshua Wishart, who, incidentally, was one of the few staff members allowed to stay at Hogwarts after the takeover by (now fortunately former) Headmaster Scrimgeour. There have been some rumors that he might have been part of the Ministry-appointed staff from the start but seeing as my sources are telling me that he’s allowed to stay on for the following term as well, we have decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. For now.
Unless you wanted to have boils on your face, there was no way you would have missed the Herbology lessons this term, seeing as they took place right after the morning S.O.R.E. Hopefully you still got a chance to shower or at least re-apply some deodorant before coming to class, however. For your colleagues’ sake. And the plants’ of course. One of the first classes of the term focused on a plant most students had already seen or heard of: the Venomous Tentacula. Which looked A LOT like Professor Wishart’s office doors. The jury is still out on whether that is supposed to be an inviting decorative choice or whether it is supposed to keep unwanted students away. But I digress… Seeing as the Venomous Tentacula had been overfed with fertilizer over the summer (allegedly by the house elves), they would have to have their surplus juice extracted. After some words of caution from the students – ”they use their vines to strangle their prey” (Lucas Dakest) or “they can be scary” (Thadius Potter) – and a rogue spell intended for the plants’ vines (please work on your aim more, Derf), everyone was sufficiently riled up to get started on the extraction of the plant’s juices. Professor Wishart clearly misread the vibe inside the greenhouse when he stated that everyone was probably just “waiting to get closer and more personal with the Tentaculas”. No offense, professor, but that’s a hard no. Nonetheless, after trimming the Venomous Tentaculas’ leaves and feeding them some (dead) chizpurfle, the juice could be extracted by squeezing the entire Venomous Tentacula plant while holding it over a bowl. Easy enough, right? No.
Another notable lesson took place in December, focusing on deciduous plants. Unfortunately, the class would not be focusing on the Whomping Willow, despite the fact that it, too, sheds its leaves according to the seasons. Not everyone – this author included! – agreed with Professor Wishart’s assessment of this being an unfortunate event, however. Instead, Shrivelfigs were on the agenda (fortunately), Professor Wishart apparently wanting to pay tribute to Nymphadora Tonks and Severus Snape. With their aggressively strong roots – the shrivelfigs, not Tonks and Snape – they are incredibly resilient and able to survive in any environment, producing small purple fruits used in healing and potions making. With the help of mooncalf fertilizer (sorry, no dragons whose name and scale color you could inquire, Derf) everyone was asked to plant a baby shrivelfig in the greenhouse which...turned into a dirt fight instigated by Sterling Archer Calrissian. The Hufflepuff was clearly set on rebelling against Headmaster Scrimgeour’s regime. Not very successfully, however. After this short (and quite unnecessary) disruption, the rest of the lesson was spent taking care of adult shrivelfigs, trimming their leaves, and plucking and skinning their fruits with a potato peeler. Compared to the overall atmosphere and other lessons this past term, Herbology was still one of the more educational classes. Hopefully this trend continues onto the next term and Professor Wishart doesn’t turn out to be a spy for Scrimgeour after all...
History of Magic
With all the changes taking place this term, I don’t think there were many who flinched at the introduction of Professor Alice O’Hara to the mix. It was hard to tell where this particular Professor stood. One minute she was relatively reasonable and seemed like a normal human being and the next she was stiffening and all but saluting the Headmaster every time he walked into the room. It’s doubtful even SHE knew what she was doing but did anyone really when it came to school this term? Was there a single person who could definitively say what all was happening? Doubtful. It was a huge mess from start to end and with everything in between.
The woman’s lessons were, comparatively normal. It was standard stuff. Everyone walked into the lesson to find a note asking them to sit at a table representing their house. The Professor herself wasn’t present—not visibly so at least but everyone stuck to the rules of not talking. By this point in the term, most had learned that it was simply better not to step out of line. When the lesson did begin, the Professor revealed that she’d unnecessarily been hiding behind an invisibility cloak because Professors are above whatever laws are set and able to use contraband material that don’t in anyway benefit the students and their education. This was legit, just ask Scrimgeour if you can catch him on his way out. No matter how nonsensical, the professors were allowed. If you take nothing else from this term, remember this lesson well. It won’t help you pass the exams but you’d survive the school longer.
This lesson involved the Hogwarts Houses but they weren’t the only ones given mention. The professor asked about the choosing process and houses for other wizarding schools. Again, pretty standard stuff. As it turned out, standard as these questions were, O’Hara required a response. Silent only earned you the request to reply to the question with a predetermined amount of words. Not the most intimidating as you could simply ramble or say how much you don’t know in that amount of words but to each their own. The students were asked to assess their fitness for the houses they were placed in then to make their own houses after. I’m not sure how that ended as an unfortunate and unforeseen illness gave me all the reason I needed to be excused.
The joint lesson with Professor Rafferty was no better. Add a professor who couldn’t decide whether she was strict and a man who decided he didn’t know how to be a civilized human being and you had a disaster. It was, again, a demonstration of the blatant double standard and cover up that was going on within the school. When you had a professor fired for hot chocolate but another munching freely on an apple in class, both under the new no food regime, it tended to get students talking. Talking, however was how you lost the magic number of 20 points and were told that you should only mind the rules and enforce them when the students were breaking them. This lesson had everything to do with the scourers. A ton of information was given, threats to cover up the fact neither professor had real answers when confronted about their blantant rule breaking then a quiz on history that bore no real consequence regardless of how well you did on it. Kinda ironic given how many things DID carry consequences this term.
The woman’s lessons were, comparatively normal. It was standard stuff. Everyone walked into the lesson to find a note asking them to sit at a table representing their house. The Professor herself wasn’t present—not visibly so at least but everyone stuck to the rules of not talking. By this point in the term, most had learned that it was simply better not to step out of line. When the lesson did begin, the Professor revealed that she’d unnecessarily been hiding behind an invisibility cloak because Professors are above whatever laws are set and able to use contraband material that don’t in anyway benefit the students and their education. This was legit, just ask Scrimgeour if you can catch him on his way out. No matter how nonsensical, the professors were allowed. If you take nothing else from this term, remember this lesson well. It won’t help you pass the exams but you’d survive the school longer.
This lesson involved the Hogwarts Houses but they weren’t the only ones given mention. The professor asked about the choosing process and houses for other wizarding schools. Again, pretty standard stuff. As it turned out, standard as these questions were, O’Hara required a response. Silent only earned you the request to reply to the question with a predetermined amount of words. Not the most intimidating as you could simply ramble or say how much you don’t know in that amount of words but to each their own. The students were asked to assess their fitness for the houses they were placed in then to make their own houses after. I’m not sure how that ended as an unfortunate and unforeseen illness gave me all the reason I needed to be excused.
The joint lesson with Professor Rafferty was no better. Add a professor who couldn’t decide whether she was strict and a man who decided he didn’t know how to be a civilized human being and you had a disaster. It was, again, a demonstration of the blatant double standard and cover up that was going on within the school. When you had a professor fired for hot chocolate but another munching freely on an apple in class, both under the new no food regime, it tended to get students talking. Talking, however was how you lost the magic number of 20 points and were told that you should only mind the rules and enforce them when the students were breaking them. This lesson had everything to do with the scourers. A ton of information was given, threats to cover up the fact neither professor had real answers when confronted about their blantant rule breaking then a quiz on history that bore no real consequence regardless of how well you did on it. Kinda ironic given how many things DID carry consequences this term.
Muggle Studies
Did you know that “Googly” has nothing to do with googly eyes?
At least that appears to be the case in the Muggle world. Providers and rubbish bins also have completely different meanings than you might expect. Between unwashed faces, people breaking the rules by eating apples, and yet others (Dorian Katharos) asking whether the lesson would be about playing zombie video games, Professor Stewart managed to keep the students mostly on track during her lesson on the internet, held in the entertainment room. So, are you ready to be entertained? Headmaster Scrimgeour, unfortunately, was not. Hardly anything is known about the (former) headmaster but one thing is for sure: he does NOT like the internet. Or at least that seems to be a fair assumption, considering the fact that he fired Professor Stewart right after inspecting one of her lessons on exactly this topic. Was it the online games? Or perhaps it was because of the potential computer viruses? Don’t worry, Headmaster, Professor Stewart assured everyone, that they were not contagious for humans.
After the departure of Professor Stewart, her position as Muggle Studies Professor was quickly taken up by someone Scrimgeour-approved: Professor Rafferty Ainsworth. Where Professor Stewart’s office was warm and colorful, Professor Ainsworth’s was cold and plain. That is, until someone redecorated the man’s office by graffiting the walls (some claim the words “YOU STINK” had been written there but I can neither confirm nor deny that) and egging the entire office, consequently also adding an olfactorius touch. Seeing as Professor Ainsworth’s idea of “fun” was spontaneous pop quizzes, I will not dwell on the lessons he taught too much. Instead, I will simply leave you with two statements from Sylvie Norcott and Zoryn Spinnet, respectively, both of which had to endure at least one detention with Ainsworth. Their impressions of the man - albeit shortened to a certain extent, for the sake of our younger readers and the integrity of the yearbook - sum up perfectly just why we will all be welcoming Professor Stewart back with open arms.
At least that appears to be the case in the Muggle world. Providers and rubbish bins also have completely different meanings than you might expect. Between unwashed faces, people breaking the rules by eating apples, and yet others (Dorian Katharos) asking whether the lesson would be about playing zombie video games, Professor Stewart managed to keep the students mostly on track during her lesson on the internet, held in the entertainment room. So, are you ready to be entertained? Headmaster Scrimgeour, unfortunately, was not. Hardly anything is known about the (former) headmaster but one thing is for sure: he does NOT like the internet. Or at least that seems to be a fair assumption, considering the fact that he fired Professor Stewart right after inspecting one of her lessons on exactly this topic. Was it the online games? Or perhaps it was because of the potential computer viruses? Don’t worry, Headmaster, Professor Stewart assured everyone, that they were not contagious for humans.
After the departure of Professor Stewart, her position as Muggle Studies Professor was quickly taken up by someone Scrimgeour-approved: Professor Rafferty Ainsworth. Where Professor Stewart’s office was warm and colorful, Professor Ainsworth’s was cold and plain. That is, until someone redecorated the man’s office by graffiting the walls (some claim the words “YOU STINK” had been written there but I can neither confirm nor deny that) and egging the entire office, consequently also adding an olfactorius touch. Seeing as Professor Ainsworth’s idea of “fun” was spontaneous pop quizzes, I will not dwell on the lessons he taught too much. Instead, I will simply leave you with two statements from Sylvie Norcott and Zoryn Spinnet, respectively, both of which had to endure at least one detention with Ainsworth. Their impressions of the man - albeit shortened to a certain extent, for the sake of our younger readers and the integrity of the yearbook - sum up perfectly just why we will all be welcoming Professor Stewart back with open arms.
“Ainsworth is the worst person in the world. He's horrible and cruel and AWFUL and ruined my sixth year [...]. I STILL have scars! Professors shouldn't hex students!!! I [...] HATE HIM SO MUCH, I'VE NEVER HATED ANYONE LIKE THAT IN MY LIFE. GOOD RIDDANCE. GOOD BLOODY RIDDANCE.” (SN)
“If you've never talked to Ainsworth, just close your eyes and imagine a soggy, piece of mozzarella cheese on a moldy piece of white bread. And there you go, you've officially met him.” (ZS)
And with that image in mind, we are all definitely looking forward to having Professor Stewart back next term…
“If you've never talked to Ainsworth, just close your eyes and imagine a soggy, piece of mozzarella cheese on a moldy piece of white bread. And there you go, you've officially met him.” (ZS)
And with that image in mind, we are all definitely looking forward to having Professor Stewart back next term…
Potions
Potions. A discipline usually only undertaken by those with the utmost of patience. Unfortunately, the Board of Governors still insist that we Hogwartians take the class for some reason. So, it was pretty lucky for those of us who aren’t as patient that Professor Noble scheduled one of his lessons as a joint one with Professor Baldvinsson and his flying class. You’d be excused though, if you were confused on how these two very different classes fit together (Bludger potion aside). We weren’t left wanting for an answer for long, however. We were studying home remedies for common injuries. But first came a demonstration of the RICE method on a not-at-all amused Professor Noble, before practicing it on each other. But, I’m not here to talk about the Flying portion of the lesson. The potion portion focused on a bruise paste, which went rather quickly and without a hitch. Again, you’d be excused for wondering what the point was, since Professor Noble basically admitted that there were better potions out there for the exact same purpose. Maybe he just wanted to give us all a break, what with Scrimgeour’s regime sucking all the fun out of being in a castle away from your parents and all….?
Another lesson focused on, of all things, shoe polish. Yes, there was that pesky rule about keeping your uniform in order, including your shoes, but really? Such things could very easily be bought. A fact that, once again, the professor basically admitted in front of the class (pro tip: if you, as a professor, point out how useless your lessons are, it tends to make people less likely to complete the assignment). Of course, if you were desperate to find a use for those left-over candles from the holidays….
Anyway, class went smoothly, unless you count yours truly dozing off from the topic being so boring. Though, one Maxton Carden seemed to have hit a nerve when he asked about what would happen if we used a metal spoon instead of wooden. To which the professor’s reply seemed to indicate an issue with the writer of the textbook (the answer being basically nothing by the way, for those of you still curious). Class ended with a polishing session. Yay. That, by the way, was sarcasm. Hopefully, lessons will be more interesting next term.
Another lesson focused on, of all things, shoe polish. Yes, there was that pesky rule about keeping your uniform in order, including your shoes, but really? Such things could very easily be bought. A fact that, once again, the professor basically admitted in front of the class (pro tip: if you, as a professor, point out how useless your lessons are, it tends to make people less likely to complete the assignment). Of course, if you were desperate to find a use for those left-over candles from the holidays….
Anyway, class went smoothly, unless you count yours truly dozing off from the topic being so boring. Though, one Maxton Carden seemed to have hit a nerve when he asked about what would happen if we used a metal spoon instead of wooden. To which the professor’s reply seemed to indicate an issue with the writer of the textbook (the answer being basically nothing by the way, for those of you still curious). Class ended with a polishing session. Yay. That, by the way, was sarcasm. Hopefully, lessons will be more interesting next term.