Author's Note: I do not and never will own Harry Potter.
Written for the One Prompt, Many Fandoms Competition, 10 Femslash Drabbles, and the Ultimate Chocolate Frog Trading & Dueling Club.
Prompts: character/pairing never written before, Pomona Sprout/Poppy Pomfrey, and the (bronze) Gunhilda of Gorsemoor card.
Challenge: Write about someone assisting another person with an illness or an injury.
Word Count: 271 words
"Of all the stubborn, goose-headed, ninny-witted..." Poppy Pomfrey's litany of complaints went in one ear and out the other, as Pomona Sprout leaned back on the bed in the Hospital Wing. This time of day, Pomona was the only patient, a fate that she was quite willing to accept, given the circumstances.
"You know I had no choice," Pomona reminded her friend and sometimes lover with a sigh. "One of the third years got too curious about the greenhouses and managed to disturb a snargaluff plant."
"And this of course propelled you to dive into the greenhouse like you were an Auror and land on the bloody thing yourself?" Poppy inquired acerbically. Pomona flushed, carefully not looking down at the thorny vines still knotted around her ankles.
"Perhaps not," Pomona acknowledged. "But at least Nott isn't in the next bed."
"Perhaps he should be," the Healer murmured, but shook her head straight after. "No, I don't mean it. Snargaluffs are nasty."
"I did however give him a month's worth of detention," Pomona said, wincing as Poppy's wand waved, carefully easing each thorn free of her skin. "Under Filch. Hopefully that will quell his wandering tendencies."
"He's a Slytherin, I doubt it," Poppy snorted. "There you go. You already know to watch for swelling and if the pain gets any worse or moves up your legs, come back at once. And Pomona?"
"Yes?" Pomona blinked and found the woman scarcely an inch from her face.
"Be careful," Poppy said and kissed her hard, on the corner of her mouth.
"Yes, Poppy," Pomona grinned.