This is a challenge for Herbology in the forum Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We were supposed to write a hurt/comfort that included a first and a plant used in Herbology. My plant is a mandrake root, and my first is the first time she failed at an assignment.

Hope you like it! Please review!

Drip. Drip. Drip. Small orbs of water trickled down her face. Drip. Drip.

One rolled off her chin and splashed onto a crumpled piece of paper, damp with fallen tears.

Another sob wracked her body and she shook against the cold glass of the room, banging her back, trying to spend the anger and sadness compressed inside, spilling out in the tears and in her hands ripping that darn paper up, and why oh why did this have to happen?

Fred Weasley had a great day.

He and George had saved their class from Professor Binns by letting a super-dungbomb out, one even the delusional professor would take notice of. The rest of class had taken place outside, and the Professor dismissed them fifteen minutes early when George had switched his watch timing.

That was fifteen minutes to plan how to end Divination early.

Which was really quite easy. Fred for once participated in the tea leaf reading, which he conveniently predicted that the class would end because of a terrible danger. At the word danger, Trelawney's bludger-sized eyes nearly popped out of her sockets and she dismissed them immediately, with only ten minutes of class gone by.

Which of course, gave him time to throw a mini-party for the next hour before his next classes. He could still taste a trace of butterbeer in his mouth.

But if only she had been there, his day would have been so much better.

Fred Weasley looked down at his list of items he would need to make some firecrackers. The final touch to this fabulous day would be some colorful explosions in the sky. He scanned his eyes over the place where the items would be found. All of them read The Greenhouses. To the Greenhouses he would go!

But as he approached, he heard violent banging and looked up to see the glass walls of the area shaking profusely. Tentatively, he cracked the door open, and his heart stopped.

She was there.

Sobbing and pounding her back on the walls, tears flowing from her like a river, and next to a pair of raw, red hands was the torn remains of what must have been a piece of paper. Dumbfounded, Fred Weasley stood there, his heart beat matching her rocking against the glass. And after eternity, she looked up. Tear-stained, bloodshot eyes, unkempt hair, bloody lips, and she was still so beautiful.

"L-leave m-m-me alone!" she shivered as another wrack of sobs took over her. Fred knew exactly what he wasn't going to do. He stepped closer to her, and reached a hand out to wipe away the tears. His hand emerged soaking, but she was no longer crying. Her lip quivered once, and then set.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and then pinched himself hard. Idiot! Of course she wasn't alright! "I-I-I mean, what's wrong?" She bit her lip, and buried her face in her hands. Fred saw her flick her wand once, and the paper reassembled itself, the broken pieces reuniting. He expected a letter which addressed some sort of tragedy, and had to stuff his fist into his mouth to prevent laughing when all he saw was an assignment about Mandrakes that had a D for Dreadful scrawled in large handwriting smack in the middle.

"That's it?" he said, when he was sure he wouldn't erupt into laughter. She narrowed her eyes, and pursed her lips.

"What do you mean, that's it? I failed my assignment! It's the first time I've ever failed, and I'm getting a detention!" and with that, the river started flowing again. Fred inhaled deeply.

"Whatever did you do?" was all that Fred could say. She sighed, and covered her face with her hands. Fred waited and didn't press her for answers.

"I pulled out my Mandrake before my class had put their ear-muffs on. I knocked them all out. And now half of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are in the hospital wing, AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" her voice rose to a shriek at the end, and she collapsed on Fred, her tears spilling on to his shoes. His heart-beat rose, and his feet felt numb and tingly. Fred chose his words carefully, and knew that this was the right time to say it.

"Nobody's perfect. I'm not, and I'm glad you're not. Hermione Granger, I don't love you because you're perfect, I love you because you are beautiful and smart, and-" he broke off. Words were useless at this point.

Fred pressed his dry lips to her teary ones, his hands around her waist, her hair between his fingers. He stayed like that, and she did too, pressing her lips to his because that rose her heart, joined the broken parts together like a puzzle.

"Fred Weasley, I love you too," she murmured softly.