Henry closed the book. He glanced at the clock. Afternoon already. He'd just finished a nonsensical book on runes and missed lunch entirely.
He stood, gathered his things from the desk, and decided to go find—
"By the way, Henry," Professor Sprout asked, "how's Hagrid these days?"
Henry calmly took a small slice of carrot cake. "Same as usual… why do you ask, Pomona?"
"When I passed by earlier, the chickens in the coop were starving," Professor Sprout said. "I was worried he might be ill, forgetting to feed them like that."
"Or he just forgot." Henry grabbed two round rolls.
Professor McGonagall nodded. "I would never accuse Hagrid of ill intent, but we must acknowledge his carelessness." She watched Henry pile savory biscuits topped with oats and nuts onto his plate. "Did you eat lunch, Henry?"
"No," Henry said. "Lost track of time reading in the library."
"What were you reading?" Professor Sprout asked, curious.
"Illegal Dark Arts publications, I assume?" Henry said. "A new batch arrived in the Restricted Section. Though I'm sure you already know. The Ministry's been cracking down on dark artefacts. Every shop in Diagon Alley got searched—Flourish and Blotts included. They turned up quite a few problematic books on black magic. Difficult to dispose of, so they donated them all to the library."
"Ah, the dark artefact raids." Professor Sprout nodded in understanding. "I heard about that. Some want the Muggle Protection Act pushed through quickly. Others want to undermine rivals. And some just want to stir the waters and make a few Galleons."
"Searching for dark artefacts can't be a bad thing, regardless," Henry said. "The clerk at Flourish and Blotts told me the Ministry was particularly thorough this time."
"Thorough in Diagon Alley," Professor Sprout corrected. "From what I hear, they spent less than an hour at Borgin and Burkes."
"Borgin and Burkes." Professor McGonagall's voice dripped with distaste. "Not a single clean item in that shop. I suspect the counter and floor tiles reek of dark magic."
Henry frowned. "Does the Ministry have some grudge against Diagon Alley? Why target them?"
"No, not targeting Diagon," Professor Sprout explained. "I think it's thanks to Knockturn Alley having too much… inventory. They hadn't hidden everything before the raids. So someone paid a hefty sum to have the Ministry focus its scrutiny on Diagon, buying a few more days." She took a sip of tea, adding with clear disapproval, "After all, no one was worried they'd actually find anything in Diagon."
"But they did find something," Henry said. "I heard Flourish and Blotts got hit with a massive fine. They're facing another inspection after Christmas to prove they've made… 'improvements'."
"And Borgin and Burkes passed inspection smoothly? How strange. I'm not surprised in the slightest," Professor McGonagall said. She flicked her wand. Several pistachio shells scuttled across the table like turtles, fetching her a biscuit and dipping it neatly into her tea.
"I heard Umbridge oversaw the raids, Pomona?" McGonagall asked.
Professor Sprout hesitated. "Yes. She made quite a nuisance of herself—Barabo was furious. Barabo runs the herbology shop in Diagon. We're on good terms," she added for Henry's benefit before continuing to McGonagall. "Barabo said that woman had her people rummaging for ages. Umbridge pointed at dust on the floor and accused Barabo of selling unclean herbs. Claimed she was deliberately making customers sick or causing potion failures so they'd have to buy more…"
She shook her head. "Before leaving, that woman even let her subordinates take Barabo's lovely herbology trowel. Said it was 'too fine to belong in such a small shop'—for Merlin's sake, Barabo is one of Britain's premier herb suppliers! Every herbalist dreams of her approval. Every potioneer has used her ingredients!"
"Sounds exactly like something Umbridge would do," Professor McGonagall said, a slight frown creasing her brow. "Because of her and her lot at the Ministry, I'm constantly worried something will happen to Charity… Any news, Pomona?"
"None," Professor Sprout said, smiling. "You know me, Minerva. I just hear the gossip. I swear I don't have some strange intelligence network."
Professor McGonagall shook her head, a small smile finally touching her lips. "Very well. I suppose I'm just overly concerned." She glanced at Henry's plate. "More tea, Henry?"
"Not yet, thank you, Minerva." Henry took another biscuit.
…
When Henry finally accepted the cup of tea Professor Sprout offered, he could finally lean back comfortably against the thick, grassy stems. The large, blade-like leaves slowly curled around his sides. It felt like sinking into a hammock.
"This is lovely," he said. "I might visit Greenhouse Two more often. What's this plant called?"
"Giant Curling Carniflora," Professor Sprout said.
Henry sat bolt upright.
"What?"
Professor Sprout reclined in her own nest of foliage, smiling. "Giant Curling Carniflora. For small animals—birds, weasels—the curling can be fatal. Especially since they release a scent that relaxes their prey. Makes escape impossible. For larger creatures…" She gestured to the three of them sitting at the tea table. "Their leaves can't fully envelop anything our size. We're also stronger, easier to break free. They're harmless as long as you're not foolish enough to fall asleep inside."
Professor McGonagall added, "But they're still relatively dangerous for younger students. That's why Pomona keeps them here in Greenhouse Two, not One or Three."
"Relatively dangerous," Professor Sprout reassured Henry, who was eyeing the leaves attempting to encircle him. "I'm planning to introduce them to sixth-years. A mature Mandrake's cry can kill. An immature one can still knock you out for hours, and they're part of the second-year curriculum. With proper precautions, no magical plant is excessively dangerous."
Henry said, "In other words, without proper precautions, they can be extremely dangerous."
"Precisely," Professor Sprout agreed. "Like all magic."
Professor McGonagall nodded. "You must find the correct approach, otherwise magic becomes a perilous thing… Speaking of which, Pomona, I docked Justin Finch-Fletchley five points the day before yesterday."
"Oh, I noticed the hourglass," Professor Sprout said. "I thought it was Severus at first. Then I heard there was a bit of a… incident in Transfiguration."
"Finch-Fletchley claimed he must have confused the Transfiguration with an Engorgement Charm. The result was a classroom full of beetles the size of a person. Ernie Macmillan ran out screaming. Hannah Abbott burst into tears." Professor McGonagall's tone was severe. "Not since Gilderoy's Cornish Pixies has a class descended into such pandemonium! After I shrank them back, half the students refused to use the beetles for practice."
Professor Sprout soothed, "Now, now, Minerva. Last week in Herbology, a student nearly dumped a bucket of dragon dung fertilizer on their neighbour's foot. They had a proper shouting match over it."
Her example didn't seem to cheer Professor McGonagall.
"Kenneth Towler and Angelina Johnson. I know," Professor McGonagall said stiffly. They were both fourth-year Gryffindors.
Professor Sprout turned to Henry. "I heard you helped Towler adopt a dog, Henry?"
"Ah, yes," Henry said. "A white, energetic little thing. Should be at his home now. His parents send him photos of the dog regularly, from what I hear."
"Oh, a little white puppy," Professor Sprout said with feeling. "How adorable."
"Mr. Towler seems to think so too," Henry said with satisfaction. "I believe they all love their adopted pets. It's good."
"Miss Midgen's cat was also your doing, correct?" Professor Sprout asked.
Henry grinned. "Yes. Has someone complained?"
"A few murmurs, but nothing serious," Professor Sprout said. "What I meant to say is, Midgen is utterly devoted to it. She begged Poppy to try and heal that three-legged cat. Poppy finally agreed to give it a go. If it were allowed, I suspect Midgen would take her Yekaterina III everywhere."
"Her… what?" Henry asked.
"Yekaterina the Third," Professor Sprout said. "I heard the cat was originally called something like 'Miss Whiskers,' but Midgen felt it was inferior to Mrs. Norris and utterly unworthy. She spent ages in the library deciding on the perfect name."
Professor McGonagall, watching Henry's bewildered expression, finally allowed a faint smile to break through her stern facade. "Tell me there is no historical figure named Yekaterina the Third, Henry."
"I… I'm not sure," Henry said. "Did she consult Professor Binns before naming it?"
"I doubt it," Professor Sprout said cheerfully. "No matter. The world has more than a dozen Alexanders or Peters—and Henrys," she smiled at him, "one more Yekaterina won't hurt."
Just then, the greenhouse door opened again. Professor Sprout peered over. "Severus! Tea?"
"Naturally." Snape strode over and sat on a stool. The Giant Curling Carniflora tentatively reached for him. Snape tapped a nearby leaf impatiently with his wand. The plant froze, stiff as stone.
Professor Sprout poured him a cup. Henry nudged the tray of pastries towards Snape—after his relentless biscuit consumption, both McGonagall and Sprout had pushed all the snacks in his direction. The entire tea table seemed to point at Henry.
Snape took a biscuit without ceremony and devoured it.
"Did you miss lunch as well, Severus?" Professor Sprout asked with concern.
"What shall I say?" Snape said, exhaling a long breath through his nose. "So many students seem to think burying their heads in snow is a brilliant idea. The Hospital Wing is overwhelmed. Therefore, while certain individuals waste beds, enjoy coddling, and mutter complaints, the Potions Master must abandon his research to brew basic Pepper-Up Potions and the like." His voice was sour. "Yes, Pomona. I had no time for lunch."
"Have another slice of cake, Severus," Professor Sprout offered.
"Incidentally, Minerva, Gryffindor just lost fifteen points," Snape said.
Professor McGonagall's brows drew together. "And for what reason this time, Severus?"
"Potter, Weasley, and Granger were attempting to sneak into the Hospital Wing with dubious intent," Snape said, a thread of satisfaction in his tone. "Most regrettable, Minerva. Potter still appears incapable of grasping the concept of rules."
"Potter was obviously trying to visit Sirius Black!" Professor Sprout chided. "Really, Severus. Have a heart."
Snape looked down. "Thank you." He ate the second slice of cake. The worst of his foul temper seemed to dissipate.
"Speaking of which, what's the time?" Professor McGonagall said. "Charity should have returned by now."
"She should have been back ages ago," Professor Sprout said, sounding worried. "I hope nothing's happened to her. Or to Madam Bones."
"Don't worry," Henry said. "Maybe she decided to fly back on a broom. It could be any second now—"
The greenhouse door opened again. Professor Burbage walked in.
"—and there she is," Henry finished.
"Charity!" Both Professors Sprout and McGonagall stood. Professor Burbage approached. Her finely tailored, heavy wizard's robes carried the chill from outside. She looked uncharacteristically weary.
"Reduced sentence," she said, sinking onto a stool. She pulled off her gloves and tossed them on the table. "Argued all day… Peter Pettigrew offered to reveal the location of the Dark Lord's wand. Fudge was tempted. Crouch was tempted. Honestly, almost everyone was. I can't even say I wasn't tempted." She let out a tired breath. "Life imprisonment in Azkaban. That's the new sentence."
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