Sense, Sensibility, and Mischief


"The Dancing Daisies are doing well this year, don't you think, Minerva?"

Minerva glanced at said daisies and barely managed to hide a frown. "Gorgeous," she lied. They wiggled at the sound of her voice, despite the flat tone.

In honesty, Minerva wasn't one for plants. She could barely tell a Devil's Snare from a Venomous Tentacula. Herbology bewildered her.

Her gaze settled upon Pomona, who was smiling fondly. "Never change," Pomona said. She extended a hand, and Minerva settled her own into it. Abruptly, Minerva was tugged into the dirt, and she tumbled onto the ground next to Pomona. She burst into startled laughter.

"Careful - you might offend my delicate sensibilities!"

"As if you have any."

Minerva huffed, faking offense. "I'll have you know I've got several copies of the book. Jane Austin was my favourite author as a child."

Pomona snorted and lay back, undoubtedly dirtying her robe further. The House Elves would have their work cut out for them. "Of course she was."

Minerva lay back too, and stared through the transparent glass ceiling of Greenhouse Twelve. The sun was just beginning to set, the heat of the day fading to something more manageable. This was one of the unregulated greenhouses, and so in the summer it often felt like a sauna.

"I can't believe we'll have our first batch of the next generation here tomorrow," Pomona said.

A smile crept onto Minerva's face. "Victoire Weasley and Teddy Lupin. It's going to be chaos."

"It's going to be wonderful," Pomona corrected. A moment later she added; "Chaos too."

Minerva wondered if Victoire had inherited her uncle's inclination for mischief. She wondered if Teddy would hide an aptitude for trouble behind a serious expression and impeccable grades, just like his father had.

"I'm glad we're here to see it through together," Minerva said. Pomona squeezed her hand.

"Me too."


Word Count: 312

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