It was Saturday morning and I was exhausted. That first week was the longest and most stressful I've ever experienced. You wouldn't think so, since I did nothing physical, but I had a lot of catching up to do before they put me in regular classes, and I think I read until my brain bled.
And I still didn't have a wand.
It was so uncomfortable, working magic by just waving my hands. It didn't hurt, and it certainly wasn't difficult, but it was just one more thing that made me so different, so outside of everyone else. And being different was hard for me to accept. I needed an outlet, I needed relief for all this stress. Sleep helped, but every morning during meditation I felt that pull from the forest. I know those trees were calling to me, that was simple to understand, but I've never felt such desire from a source outside myself. It was getting harder and harder to ignore.
Don't misunderstand me, I love everything about forests; their grandeur, their spirit...but I haven't heard anything pleasant about the Forbidden Forest, and I'm not so stupid as to pretend it isn't dangerous.
But I still wanted--needed--to find a tree like Allah or Fulk, someone to calm my nerves and whisper my sanity back to me. Perhaps these English trees could be like that, loving and sweet and wise. But until I find someone to trust with my deepest secrets, I won't go in there alone.
After breakfast I was meeting with Professor Sprout in the greenhouse to organize tutoring sessions. Hermione was graciously been working with me when the professors couldn't, but--understandably--she was not assigned to help me with Green magic. I couldn't get a name out of Sprout, she only grinned sheepishly and said something about surprises. I didn't understand the giggle that accompanied her answer, but later I would.
After my ritual meditation on the patch of lawn tucked away behind a corner of the castle, I grabbed a small breakfast and headed to the greenhouses. On the way I recalled the events of last night at dinner: some unnamed third year asked me about my accent, and the tale of my traveling here from the states quickly turned dirty in the hands of a few familiar Gryffindor boys.
"Take it back," I said playfully, "Take it back, now!"
"Oh please," Dean said, "You red folk are all the same. American...savage...what is the difference?" Seamus laughed.
I feigned an angry face and glared at the both of them, "You dare to call me savage?!" It was useless not to play along, "Give me back my land, you barbaric, empire-obsessed paleface!"
Harry cut in, "Uh-oh boys, I think the squaw is upset--"
"Squaw?" I spat at him, "Have you even been to the states? My family is from here! Ron is my cousin!"
"I think 'Squaw' is a great name for you--"
"Don't ever say that again, Ron," I glared at him magnificently. Dean laughed; I muttered "traitor" in his direction and switched tactics. "So you all lost the war and your most profitable colony. Get over it, you lobster-back pansies." I stood up and raised my fist in the air, "No taxation without representation!"
I looked around the room at the other house tables. Several people were staring at my theatrical pose, and they had definitely heard my shout. I blushed, and sat down, a little subdued. "Well," I offered bashfully, "That was fun."
I was now standing before the door of one of the upper level greenhouses, and slipped inside. I was a little early, which was fine with me. I had a new appreciation for quiet, and a little tranquility was just what I needed. However, a few minutes of this was all I got when one of the younger plants woke up and recognized my Green magic. It was all I could do to try to get her to quiet before she woke up the others. Between the growls of more mature plants less forgiving about being woken up early and the excited coos of "pet me! feed me! look at my new flower!" from the younger ones, my last moment of morning peace was finished.
The door behind me crashed open, followed by a muttered curse. "Sorry," a male voice murmured.
"Good morning, Miss Prewett," Professor Sprout offered cheerfully, "I'm sorry but I have to run. This is your Herbology tutor, Neville Longbottom."
Neville shrugged a good-morning at me and ran his fingers through his brown locks. He looked like he'd been up for a while—he was a morning person too. I smiled.
"Hi, Neville," I said brightly, "Good to see you. How was class this week?"
He started to answer and Sprout cut in, "You two will be fine without me I suppose?"
"Um, yes, I guess," I offered with a glance at Neville. He nodded and pulled on a pair of gloves.
"Well, OK, then," she said. I saw her smile just as I turned away to look for gloves. I found some on the shelf underneath the table I was standing at, and bent down to pick them up. When I ducked out of sight, I heard the door creak open and Professor Sprout whisper "She's quite pretty." I blushed—that explains the giggle...A moment after that the door closed again quietly and Neville and I were alone.
I slipped on my gloves. I looked over at Neville. "Hey," I said happily, "How are you?"
"Great," he answered, "It's good to be back in here." He patted a creeping plant vine fondly. He glanced toward the greenhouse door and satisfied with what he did or didn't see there, slipped off his gloves.
"What are you doing?" I asked curiously.
"I don't like to wear them. They get in the way and the plants don't like them much..." his voice trailed off and he looked at me sheepishly like he had just revealed a secret.
But I understood him, "Oh, I know what you mean." I raised my eyebrows, "Do you hear them too?"
"Are you making fun of me?" he asked seriously.
"No!" I protested, "I'm really not." Now I was unsure of whether or not my abilities should be secret, but it was magic, and Neville was a wizard..."I hear them...you know...talking..."
He stared at me for a long time before he spoke, but when he did there was genuine enthusiasm in his voice, "That sounds like an incredible gift. I wish I could hear them." He picked up a watering can and dripped some water into a thirsty plant's pot, "Mostly I just get a feeling. But it works, I usually know what they want, what helps them grow better, stronger, bigger."
I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding.
He grabbed a few bags of something off a shelf and a couple of trowels and said, "Let's get started." We worked for a few hours re-potting and doing general repairs, fertilizing, and talking. Neville was very quiet, and carried a soft peace around him. He was very strong, from lifting and carrying many heavy planter's trays or pots, even the muscles in his hands were defined. The hours swept by in his company.
"I love it in here," I said dreamily, "Working with the plants. It's so--"
"Watch out!" he said suddenly.
"--relaxing? Ouch!" One of the Sparking Snapdragons I was re-potting bit into my hand--luckily these were nontoxic. The snapdragon snorted angrily at me, and sparks blew from the tip of its bud as smoke drifted from one of it's nostrils. My short outburst set the rest of the potted dragons into a commotion of rebuking their youngest for its behavior, and it was a few strained moments until the pandemonium settled.
"Well," I said, nursing my punctured palm, "It's usually relaxing." The small bite mark was turning red around the edge, and was swelling slightly. "Neville, I thought you said these were nontoxic!"
"That's what the label says!" He picked it up to show me, and frowned, "Damn. Someone messed with the label, Soph." He tossed the label aside, "Stupid first years! You can clearly tell these are toxic if you look at the leaf pattern! Let me see," he snatched my hand to look at the bite. "Ouch. I think there's some anti-toxin in here," he said as he rummaged through the supply cupboard. "I don't see any, but maybe this will work." He pulled out a small jar of green salve, the label read: Mister Mordhorst's Everyday Anti-EveryToxin Goo. He opened the jar and gestured for me to hold out my hand.
He took it and smeared some of the salve on my wound. His palm was warm against the back of my hand. "Soph, I don't think this is strong enough. We better go see Madame Pomfrey," he said, concern in his voice. He dropped my hand and led me out of the greenhouse. We hurried to the hospital wing, as the bite was worsening by the minute, verbally bashing the mental capacity of first years the whole way.
"You should have been wearing gloves, working with sparking snapdragons," Madame Pomfrey said as she healed my hand, "Be grateful they weren't fully grown, or you'd be in here with some nasty burns."
Neville and I were dismissed, but after we grabbed dinner it was getting late and I suggested we go back to the common room instead of the greenhouses. "I checked the schedule, the first years are in the greenhouses all of tomorrow morning. Let's hope they don't mess up any more labels or I'll be messing them up." Neville laughed, and muttered the password to the Fat Lady.
"Goodnight, Squaw," he said.
"Oh, Neville, not you too!" I feigned my shock and hurt.
He only grinned, "Good night, Sophie."
Over those next few weeks I spent more and more time in the greenhouse, sometimes alone, sometimes with Sprout, mostly with Neville. We soon became best friends. I am not sure exactly why Sprout named him as my tutor; he has green magic, but not like I do. But that green light I sometimes see when I meditate, that's green magic, and I see it in Neville when my eyes are half closed and I'm not looking for it. Maybe I don't recognize what he's teaching me exactly, but I wouldn't trade my time with him for anything.
My few sessions with Professor Sprout gave me insight to my Green abilities, the most shocking being this: my magic was rooted (excuse the pun) in ancient elemental magics and grew (excuse another pun) from the powers of magical trees that wands are made out of. I had no wand because I was a wand. This meant I had no need to practice the spells or the movements that went with them. I could just stretch out my hands and say the spell and it would work. This helped a lot with catching up with my class, but still it would take me a year or so to memorize all of them if I practiced every spare moment...
But every spare moment was leading me away from studying and into the greenhouses where my plants (not really mine, but I do love them as if they were my own), and Neville waited for me. If a consolation at all Neville did help me study, and quizzed me on my spells...very often actually, but just as often the greenhouse peacefulness took over and we just enjoyed each other's silence and the occasional accidental touch.