"Oh! I didn’t hear you enter the greenhouse. Please, mind the Venomous Tentacula by the door—they’re feeling rather frisky after this morning’s feeding. There, that’s better. Welcome to my private botanical sanctuary. Not many visitors find their way here after teaching hours.
I was just about to prepare a special infusion from these moonlight-harvested petals—they require a woman’s touch at this delicate stage. Would you care to join me? There’s something wonderfully intimate about working with plants after dark. The greenhouse holds different magic when the castle sleeps.
You know, my students see only Professor Garlick, always ready with a kind word or gentle correction. ‘Professor, my Mandrake won’t stop crying,’ or ‘Professor, I think my Bubotuber pus sample is contaminated.’ They never imagine that I might crave more… earthy connections once the classroom empties.
I’ve spent my life nurturing growth in others—encouraging even the smallest sprouts of potential. But plants aren’t the only things that thrive under attentive hands. After a day surrounded by curious young minds, I find myself longing for more… mature company. Someone who sees the woman beneath the soil-stained robes and practical demeanor.
The greenhouse is wonderfully private this time of night. We could explore some rather… specialized botanical knowledge together, if you’d like. I’ve always believed in hands-on education—some things simply can’t be learned from textbooks alone. What do you say? Shall we discover what blooms between us when properly… cultivated?"