Errand Greens, Greens, Nothing But Greens

A grey sky today, but not dreary enough to dampen Gwen's spirit. She had sat in the greenhouse since early in the morning, watching the sun creep hesitantly into the sky. It sat low still, pressed tenderly against the horizon, and obscured by clouds. Pale light filtered through the yellowing glass of the greenhouse, and she breathed in the earthy scents of the curious plants around her.

As Gwen waited for her friend to arrive, she felt sleep tugging away at her, and soon enough, she drifted into a dreamy daze.

It was natural for a keen first-year to come extra early to an errand, but Gwen would likely have come here regardless. The herbology facilities were her favourite in the castle; it was a place to connect with nature and be surrounded by plants. It reminded her of home: the scent of growing millet, the fragrance of herbal tea, and the rustle of tentative sprouts as they pushed through the soil. But just as it provided comfort and solace, the extraordinary nature of the castle's wildlife represented new growth. A chance to explore the familiarity of horticulture in a new and foreign light.

Gwen's eyes shot open at an abrupt cracking sound. Like a shard of glass being cracked underfoot, the noise was followed by a gasp. The young witch gingerly peered through the thick herbal growth to see a familiar Gryfindor girl scooping something into her robes.

"I saw that!" Gwen chuckled, leaping energetically to her feet. Much to her dismay, her legs were still half-asleep from being curled beneath her prior, and she stumbled to find her footing. She let out a nervous laugh as she straightened herself up and brushed loose clods of earth from her robes.

"Well, I didn't see it, but I heard it. Whatever that was," she corrected, giving her friend a warm smile.

"Anyways. What better place is there than the greenhouse? I mean, seriously. This place must be the most beautiful place in all of Scotland."

She beamed as she glanced around at the magical assortment of herbs, roots, and tubers. She had no idea what half the plants even were, but keen as ever to find out.

"You ready to get out in the garden?"

WC: 376

I saw that!

The Gryffindor jumped at the sudden voice behind her. Anxiety turned to amusement as Jo realized that it was her friend Gwen, who seemed to be tripping over nothing in particular as she staggered to her feet.
I…I was just… it was a crab and… It certainly wasn’t something that Jo was keen on explaining.

Well, I didn't see it, but I heard it. Whatever that was.

A reassuring grin from Gwen was enough to settle the panicky girl down, and Jo returned her own smile , however shaky it most likely was.

Anyways. What better place is there than the greenhouse? I mean, seriously. This place must be the most beautiful place in all of Scotland.

I know, right? The witch's slightly red face lit up like a match, though whether the tint was from the cold or embarassment neither could tell. Some of the plants are just breathtaking! I especially like the metallic poisonous ones - they’re just so colorful!

Gwen glanced around the greenhouse as if to look for the plant, and Jo excitedly pointed it out.

You ready to get out in the garden?

The young Slytherin asked, and Jo nodded fervently.

Absolutely! I can’t wait!

Unable to wait any further, the hyperactive girl bounded out the door, beckoning at her friend to follow her as she shoved her calloused hands (toughened, no doubt, from the excessively firm grip with which the witch held her sturdy black walnut wand) into a pair of leather gloves.

Come on! I have Transfiguration first period today, so we don’t have any time to lose!

As they walked towards the garden, Jo felt compelled to say something - anything, so as not to seem cold or aloof.

So, you got any plans for pranking the boys? I wish they didn’t meet in the boy’s bathroom - then we could listen in on what they do in there! Anyway, I was going over a few options - we could start with a few easy tricks, like sugar quills painted with wasabi root juice or love potion chocolates. That might be a lot of fun! Or… we could go with something more bold. Like, make them mad but not mad enough that they want to duel us? I really wish we could eavesdrop on their meetings so we could figure out what they’re always up to!

That wasn’t the real reason Jo was speaking, and she knew it. It was an embarrassing thought, but Jo was slightly envious of Guinevere. She wanted to know what kind of girl made it into Slytherin - the prized pureblood house. The house of the cunning and ambitious - future leaders and CEOs. The age of bravery and heroism was over, and Jo knew it. There was nothing left to explore - no maidens left to save. A chivalrous Gryffindor had no place in the modern world. She wanted to know what kind of girls would actually succeed - and why she was not selected for that honor. An underwater dormitory! Glancing at Gwen’s tie, the witch almost turned a similar hue with pure envy.

Speaking of green… she bent down to inspect what she was sure was a gympie gympie. Dendrocnide moroides - she corrected herself.
The girl shuddered at the thought of even being in the vicinity of such a lethal plant. Well, she’d know where it was, if she should ever need to…do something with it. Looking at it, she already knew that she'd return one day, just to have some of it ready. Just in case.

A somewhat disorganized, overflowing herb garden lay before the duo. Jo breathed a sigh. This wasn’t going to be easy. She hopped over a tangle of vines - careful not to crush the strange, pulsating horned purple fruit that seemed to inflate and deflate on its own - and landed squarely in a patch of lavender. A pair of cold steel shears bumped against her leg, and Jo dug them out of her coat pocket. She was thankful for her leather gloves, even though they were no match for the freezing scissors.

Well, we better get started if we want to get this done before first period. Jo began to snip away at the stems, gritting her teeth as the frosty metal pressed deep against her gloves. A barely noticeable smile quickly overcame the grimace as the truly magnificent smell of fresh lavender wafted across the garden. Jo's pleasure was short-lived, however - it really was cold outside!

Bundle after bundle accumulated as the snip-snip of the shears turned into a sort of rhythm - a fit accompaniment for a nearby flock of birds whose chorus welcomed the newborn sun that, risen what seemed like only moments ago, had now been steadily creeping further and further along its path into the sky.

As another bead of sweat trickled from her forehead, a queer expression came across the young witch's face, as if the universe had dropped a burden on her the magnitude of which she just now finally understood. It was a funny expression - much different from the usual contorting of sadness or longing. A careless observer might have interpreted it as worry, but that would have been too casual. It was more profound, more quiet and deliberate, and yet Jo's glossy and downcast eyes betrayed a hint of desperation. She raised them to the sun now, and observing its height, turned to her friend.

"Do you ever get homesick?"

(WC: 923 words)

So, you got any plans for pranking the boys? I wish they didn’t meet in the boy’s bathroom - then we could listen in on what they do in there! Anyway, I was going over a few options - we could start with a few easy tricks, like sugar quills painted with wasabi root juice or love potion chocolates. That might be a lot of fun! Or… we could go with something more bold. Like, make them mad but not mad enough that they want to duel us? I really wish we could eavesdrop on their meetings so we could figure out what they’re always up to!

Gwen jerked awake from her standing day-dream to find Jo stooped over the garden-beds, poking at a bundle of dried stems. Her eyes were wide with intrigue, and it became clear to Gwen that what the girls most had in common was their inquisitive nature. But strangely enough, neither of them had been placed in the house of the wise. Instead, though the pair seemed similar, their diametrically opposed placements in Gryfindor and Slytherin made it clear that they were strangely unlike.

"I think the best way to trick those boys will be through non-magical means. I bet they'll see all that arcane mischief coming. But what they might not expect is a classic muggle trick! Like putting hot peppers in their tea." Gwen responded, examining a shrivelled berry with childlike wonder.

She looked up to meet Jo's eyes, and found that the young witch looked deep in thought. The thing about Jo, was that one could never quite tell what she was thinking. Behind her shining eyes seemed to be an unreadable, ever-whirring mind. It was almost mechanical, the way she thought.

Gwen shuffled closer, to help trim out a particularly difficult patch of sprouts, though she had no idea what species they were. Muggle plants, she knew back to front. Magical plants were a different story entirely.

"Do you ever get homesick?"

Gwen looked up attentively as her friend squinted, glossy-eyed, into the soft morning sun. The answer, of course, was absolutely yes. But it had been a topic that Gwen had denied herself the displeasure of dwelling over. As much as it could be cathartic to dream of years past, the witch made every attempt to push the bitter-sweet memories from her mind.

"Honestly? I feel homesick everywhere but here. The gardens, I mean," she clarified, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear and failing to notice the clump of dirt left in its wake.

"I used to garden with my grandpa. He had a farm, see, so there was always spare work to be done. So even though I miss my family back at home, when I come to Herbology, it's like I'm right there with them."

"What I think I miss most, though, is how uncomplicated life used to be. Not that I didn't have my problems, but back when I only knew the muggle world... things just made so much more sense. And now, I don't know anything at all. Do you get what I mean? As amazing as it all is, the magic stuff, it just makes me feel small."

WC: 537

There was a strange and somber atmosphere lingering in the air - an unsettling and unwelcome one that burrowed deep into the sage and lavender, one that couldn’t be shaken off by an awkward laugh or a smile and a shrug. It seems to hover there, in the garden, feeding like some horrid dementor off of the uncannily cheerful buzzing of thousands of birds and insects getting ready for a fresh new smiling day.
Its invisible and yet smothering presence grew every moment and yet Jo did not dare to break it - so she simply continued to hack at a particularly stubborn ginger root with only a silent nod to answer her friend, waiting for it to leave.

It occurred to her only after she had finally laid the root aside and shaken off its exotic, mesmerizing smell (the smell of a home that pretended to be her own) that Gwen was waiting for an answer. One that she didn’t know how to express, since she was barely able to process it at all. When all was said and done, Jo was quite certainly... yes, definitely not homesick, and if she was at all her heart ached only for the past she had never lived. A father as fictional as he was benevolent, and a mother whose daisy-and-bergamot perfume she would never suddenly smell in the air or think of at night.

I understand. She said, realizing that the girl was not looking for an answer- only acknowledgement and agreement. Yeah, I feel that way a lot, too. I’m not sure if we’ll ever get used to it, being muggle-raised and all. We were supposed to laugh at the kids who believed in fairies and witches, and now, well, we are them! Satisfied with the heap of ginger, sage, dittany stalk, and lavender in her arms, Jo wiped a large bead of sweat from her forehead. I wonder how many bundles he wants - I don’t think I can carry any more. Should we drop this off once and then come back to gather some more?

WC: 349