Chapter 14: Dirty-mouthed Twelve Year Olds and a Trip to the Hospital Wing
Having copied down very detailed notes on the Super Speed Solution until the bells rang again, Angelina dashed out of the Potions classroom and down to the Herbology greenhouses. She needed time to be alone, to be around the plants. She could just go down to the Greenhouse 8 right away, grab a potted flax plant, and begin collecting the seeds. Sure, she hadn't actually learned how to acquire the flaxseeds, but how hard could it be?
In the midst of approaching Greenhouse 8, Angelina spotted Professor Sprout, bustling about and shooing some second years away from a Mimbulus Mimbletonia which was located on a shelf in Greenhouse 2.
"Goodmorning, Professor!" Angelina called, feeling herself perk up a bit already, and drew closer to Greenhouse 2.
"Hello, Miss Divine. No, no, Watkins! You do not touch that unless you want stinksap all over yourself! Get off to Transfiguration! Professor McGonagall does not appreciate tardiness!" Professor Sprout sighed.
The 2nd year's face turned from eagerness to touch the Mimbulus Mimbletonia to horror at the thought of a displeased McGonagall. He and his fellow classmate looked at each other, panicked. Must be Ravenclaws, Angelina thought, chuckling to herself. Not even in a week, and they know not to get on the wrong side of McGonagall... She smiled nicely at them as they scampered by her and the first, Watkins stopped in his tracks about a meter past her, causing his friend to slam into him. They both went down in a pile of limbs, school robes, and bags, parchment flying everywhere.
"Oh, really, Watkins..." Professor Sprout walked over and waved her wand about, collecting their items. Angelina had already dropped to a crouch, helping to gather the school things that had scattered in the grass. She grabbed another quill and grinned, handing the items back to Watkins' friend.
Watkins stared at her. It was disconcerting. Using his elbow, Watkins nudged his pal in the side and nodded towards Angelina. His friend blinked and stared, too. Angelina felt herself starting to blush, thinking that they were just boggled by the fact that a Seventh Year had just helped them pick up their belongings after an embarrassing tumble. That had to be it, right?
"You're the tart-y Gryffindor girl!" Friend-of-Watkins exclaimed, excitement in his eyes.
Wrong.
Angelina's face paled and, almost immediately, she felt tears stinging her eyes for the second time that morning. She brought her hands up to cover her face, already hearing Professor Sprout's voice reprimanding the twelve-year old.
"Thirty points from Ravenclaw for that language, Hawkins! You are very lucky you haven't been here more than a week, or I would triple the deduction! Now go!"
She didn't see the two boys run off to the castle, but by the time she decided to open her eyes, Angelina, did see some of the older students coming down from the castle leisurely to make it to N.E.W.T. level Herbology. Professor Sprout was trying her best to comfort Angelina and rested a hand on her shoulder, patting gently.
"Come," Professor Sprout commanded gently, directing Angelina inside of Greenhouse 2 and towards the sink in the back. "Wash up for class."
Angelina nodded gratefully and sniffed back tears as she walked towards the sink and started the water, accio'ing a clean cloth to dry her face. Professor Sprout went on.
"I don't know what that was about, dear," she began, "but if you need to talk, my office is always open and you know where to find me. If you would just like some extra time in the greenhouses, I could also give you a few extra assignments." Professor Sprout grinned, and Angelina attempted a small smile. She always liked the professor, so maybe if she did need anything she could come take a trip through the greenhouses, indeed.
"Thank you, Professor," Angelina replied.
"Of course, of course. I wasn't kidding about that extra Herbology practice, either, Miss Divine!" She laughed and guided her student out of the room and over to Greenhouse 8, in which the entire N.E.W.T level Herbology class for Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs had assembled. Dropping Angelina off at a table with a slight squeeze of the shoulder, the professor continued on to the front of the greenhouse classroom.
"Today, we are moving on from sorting dragon dung. Oh, yes, Mister Black, you've had quite enough of that, haven't you?" Angelina glanced up with a tentative smile to see how Sirius had reacted, and discovered not only that he was shrugging with a handsomely affixed guilty smile towards Professor Sprout, but that James and Remus flanked his either side and had their eyes glued to hers, matching looks of betrayal and disgust. Quickly looking down at her hands, Angelina's smile disappeared and she felt a little stab in her heart. They weren't the ones who should be feeling bothered. They weren't the ones to appear half-naked in the common room - unwillingly, in any case, as the Marauders were infamous for having no modesty about their rather aesthetically appealing bodies and enjoyed showing up to the common room with half open button-downs or no shirt at all and just pajama bottoms. They weren't the ones who Lucius Malfoy had accosted at breakfast. And they weren't the ones who were called "tart-y Gryffindors by two Mimbulus Mimbletonia freak Ravenclaw Second Years. I was. So why in Merlin's beard are they looking at me like that? Angelina asked herself.
"Today," Professor Sprout continued, snapping Angelina out of her confusion, "We will be learning to collect flaxseeds. These seeds have oils which can be used very effectively in dyes, hair products, soap, and most importantly, medicines. Once we have collected enough seeds, we will use a spell to extract the oil and put it into containers. I will have two students take the vials of flaxseed oil up to Madam Pomfrey. Let's begin!"
With a clap of her hands and a swish of her wand, Madam Pomfrey collected the dark sheets which had been covering the work tables in the greenhouse. Angelina kept her eyes down as she reached forward for a flax plant. She was separated from her best friends, the Marauders glared at her every time her eyes glanced towards them. The Hufflepuff girl next to her, Adrianne, used her wand to prod Angelina gently and remind her that she needed tweezers and gloves. Feeling a rush of gratitude, Angelina smiled at Adrianne, the only student she'd encountered who had been even remotely nice to her, excepting her roommates.
Having always had a green thumb and a love for Herbology, Angelina had finished capturing all her flaxseed and securing the oil in a rather large vial on the table at which she worked and that she shared with Adrianne, Maria, Flynn, Francis, and Frank. Adrianne and Maria were best friends who dated the O'Lafferty twins, Flynn and Oisin. Frank Longbottom was the only other Gryffindor, and he hadn't said a word to Angelina. They had finished collecting the oil from the twelve plants in their table. The other five students chatted amicably amongst themselves as they began sifting through bags. The class was about to end. Suddenly, feeling very uncomfortable, as a fifth wheel and a non-entity at her table, Angelina stepped away and found Professor Sprout.
"I would be happy to take the oil to the Hospital Wing, Professor," Angelina said quietly, looking at her toes.
"Grand, Miss Divine! Let me just dismiss everyone and find you a partner."
Angelina walked silently back to her table to see that her tablemates had left, leaving the vial of flaxoil in the center of the wooden piece. Angelina rummaged around in her bag, bent double, hoping to find a stopper to use. Once she succeeded, Angelina quickly stoppered both her table's vial and the vial on the table to her left. No one was in the greenhouse except for Professor Sprout, who made a small motion with her hands to leave. Angelina smiled and walked out of Greenhouse 8 at a fast pace, knowing she had to get up to the Hospital Wing and then maybe run down to the Great Hall for some lunch. Turning to wave to Professor Sprout, Angelina backed right into a hard body and let out a yelp as she dropped to the ground. Groaning, having been reminded of the embarrassing moment outside another of the greenhouses just a short while before, Angelina pushed herself off the ground and dusted her robes off, feeling her face get a little red.
"Sorry, I wasn't looking and -"
"Save it, Divine," came James Potter's voice, cutting her mid-apology.
Uh-oh.
"Sorry, I-"
"Save it, I said," he said again. He held two vials of the oil in his hands and began walking up towards Hogwarts' castle.
Grunting and letting out a sigh of frustration and embarrassment, Angelina hoisted herself up and grabbed her vials off the grass, chasing after him. She tried to keep up with his long strides but the effort was winding her.
"Can't-" she began.
"No," he interrupted.
"You-" she continued.
"No," he interrupted.
"Go-" she continued.
"No," he interrupted.
"Any-" she continued.
"No," he interrupted.
"Slower?" she finished asking.
"I believe you know the answer to that, Divine," he said rather nastily. Potter - 1, Angelina - 0.
"Well, I apologize for not being in wonderful physical condition that you are, Potter," she said back, just as snidely. Potter - 1, Angelina 1.
He stopped in his tracks, nearly resulting in another collision. He turned to face Angelina and put his two vials on the grass carefully. As he began untucking his shirt, Angelina stared blankly. What in the Ministry of Magic was he doing...
"The wonderful physical condition that I am in?" She nodded in response, very vaguely, still horrified as his hands started tugging up his sweater. "I'm sorry, but you seem to have forgotten that I was brutally attacked by some stupid girl last night!"
Angelina could hear the heat and the anger in his voice. She didn't want to look into his eyes. She didn't really have to, because at that time James Potter decided to pull off his sweater and undershirt and to stand before Angelina in his uniform slacks. She gasped quietly when she saw the large purple, red, and blue bruise across his abdomen. It wasn't exactly the shape of a foot, but she knew that was how it had happened.
"Oh, James, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed earnestly, dropping to her knees and reaching out to touch it gently. He flinched and sucked in air sharply as her pointer finger made contact with his tender skin.
"'Sorry' doesn't fix the bruise on my stomach nor on my ego, Divine," he pressed on, but with slightly less venom.
"Really, I.. Look, when we're with Madam Pomfrey, we can get you some Brilliant Bruise Balm for it, right? I mean, I'll ask her to use it for myself because I tripped on the way to potions this morning and have a giant bruise on my knee or something, and then you can just wait outside and I'll bring it out and we can put it on, and that way you don't need to be embarrassed and I really am sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I just..." Angelina trailed off, realizing she was rambling.
"Just what?" Potter asked, still not very pleased with her apologies.
"I just needed a way out," she frowned and backed away from him, staring at his chest and sighing.
"No need to stare, Divine. I'm well aware that I have a fit body even with that nasty thing you added on," He had a bit of a grin now.
Angelina flushed. She hadn't meant to be staring, but when one has kicked a boy in the stomach and later examines the consequences, one does tend to get a little side-tracked by rather nicely formed abdominals and pectorals. That's normal, right? Angelina queried herself.
"Did I go for the wrong Gryffindor Seventh Year? I mean, I've loved Lily forever, but if you like what you see..." he trailed off suggestively, and smirked at Angelina.
Okay, apparently not normal. She decided.
"Gross," she replied, finding it hard to think of any sort of way to dissuade him.
"You think I'm unattractive? Is that why you decided to kick me in the stomach?" Most of the malice had been lost from his voice, and he picked up his vials, ready to continue on to the Hospital Wing.
Angelina grimaced and followed along until she could break stride behind him. She glanced at his face; he still didn't look too happy.
"No, I just ... It was awful, James, you have to understand," she pleaded. "Everyone was staring. I needed a distraction!"
"Do you commonly find that physical violence is a wonderful way to distract others?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Well, no, but, it worked!" She tried a half-smile back at him and he relented a little more.
"You didn't just hurt me, though. Sirius had a broken jaw, you know."
"What? Seriously?" James grinned. "Oh, it was never a funny joke! How did his jaw get broken?" Angelina really could not remember doing anything to him, after all, it was James she had kicked.
"You don't remember?"
"James, I was a little horrified that everyone was seeing me in that nightgown!"
"I wouldn't call that a nightgown, Angie," James winked at her.
"I just threw up a little in my mouth," Angelina stated calmly, having stopped spluttering at his comment.
"Harsh," he said, caught between a frown at the rejection of his flirting and a grin at her retort. "That was the cause of it, though. He made a comment about your conniving ways."
"And...?" Angelina encouraged, asking him to continue. She really hadn't noticed his jaw. Pondering how he had smiled at Professor Sprout just minutes before, she ignored the comment about her being conniving, as it was certainly untrue. "Wait, but, he was smiling. Is that possible with a broken jaw?"
They had just reached the Hospital Wing and entered. Angelina shivered a little bit, shocked by the clean white walls, beds, and curtains. For some reason, it always surprised her how absolutely sterilized everything seemed to be at all times. Disconcerting, really. She walked back towards Madam Pomfrey's small office with James Potter, still confused but momentarily distracted by the cleanliness of the room.
"Madam Pomfrey?" James called.
"...Mister Potter! When I let you leave this room not more than eighteen hours ago, you promised me you would not make a quick return!" Madam Pomfrey did not look happy. Angelina could see that Madam Pomfrey's brown curls were starting to grey, or at least the curls peeking out from underneath her usual bonnet were changing pigment. The wrinkles were really starting as well, and Angelina was sure the woman must have had frown lines from the age of fourteen.
James grinned at the matron in response. "I brought up some flaxseed oil from Herbology for Professor Sprout. Thought you'd be a bit happier to see me, Poppy..."
She yanked the vials from his hands as well as from Angelina's own hands, startling her. Angelina hadn't thought that the witch had noticed her, but apparently the woman didn't have such smalltalk to make with her as she had with James.
"How is Black?" Madam Pomfrey called, her back turned to them as she bustled around, rearranging other flasks and vials and containers on the shelves in the back of the her office.
"Just dandy," James replied with a grin. "Quite happy with the bruise, he says it will get him more women. They love bad-boys, apparently." He shot a wink at Angelina.
So James and Sirius were already here to get his jaw sorted out. Makes sense, I suppose. Angelina thought to herself, scoffing at Potter's wink.
"Speaking of bruises, Potter, how is your abdomen?" Madam Pomfrey had turned around and held a little container in her palm, ready to slather it on at any moment, Angelina figured. And then, Angelina figured that the bruise was already partially healed if Madam Pomfrey had tended to it within eighteen hours. She was starting to feel really, really awful about kicking James Potter in the stomach.
"I'm fine, I have some more balm in my dormitory." He smiled kindly at her, and Angelina felt even worse. "We should get going though. Don't want to miss lunch!"
"Bye, Madam Pomfrey," Angelina spoke, as the woman nodded to them and shooed them off and out of her Hospital Wing.