In my freshman year at KU, around Halloween, I found a sad ficus languishing in a hardware garden department. He was just a few inches high and looked (how shall we say?) careworn. A handful of sickly, yellow leaves clung to his four frail stems. I was reading HP & the Prisoner of Azkaban at the time, and something seemed familiar about the little guy...
"The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray." --HP3After ten years of pruning, potions, and re-potting, Mr. Moony is feeling quite well, thank you. Well enough that I can put into action a plot I've been plotting for some time now... Accio pruning shears! Accio twine!