With Harry being extremely distracted for the duration of the class, it ended in an unmitigated disaster. Sprout had tutted in displeasure at the sheer volume of dragon dung and topsoil that the chomping cabbages they had been repotting had managed to cover Harry in. Harry didn’t even attempt to follow Ron and Hermione into the castle, imaging Filch’s outraged face at him traipsing literal shit through the halls. Instead, Harry trudged down to the quidditch locker rooms, and thanked his lucky stars that he’d had the forethought to put on a protective outer robe before attempting any repotting. It took washing his hair four times for him to finally be satisfied that he’d gotten out the smell of dung.