—
JUNIPER
ft. Rolanda Hooch
(& Pomona Sprout)
—
"What are you making, again?" Pomona asked her friend for the fourth time that night. She didn't ask so much because she didn't know what Rolanda was making, but she was terribly incredulous about Rolanda's gin-making abilities.
"Gin." Rolanda replied plainly, yellow eyes flashing as she looked over at the Herbology professor.
"Why the juniper berries?" Pomona asked curiously, even as she rolled the grindstone in the bowl of juniper berries she'd been directed to grind.
"They give gin its flavor," Rolanda said, "as I said earlier. Pomona!"
Pomona startled, dropping the grindstone in its bowl with a discontented clink and looking wide-eyed at her friend. "Rolanda?" Pomona asked cautiously.
"Just checking your reflexes," Rolanda replied, immediately looking away from her friend's outraged expression.
"Honestly, Rolanda." Pomona sighed, "You're worse than my 'Puffs."
"Oh?" Rolanda teased, "Then why are you spending your Hallow's Eve with me, Pomona?"
"Just because you're terribly annoying doesn't mean I'm not going to help you make gin on Halloween." Pomona sniffed, affecting a superior expression that dissolved quickly into a smile. She'd always been bad at showing anything but warmth.
"Did I ever tell you about that time I tried to carve a broom from juniper wood?" Rolanda asked abruptly, continuing at Pomona's noise of surprise. "No, then. There's not much to the story, really. My parents were cutting down a juniper tree in our backyard — my mum was collecting the berries to make gin, of course, and I was a young little witch with an interest in Quidditch. Let me tell you, juniper is not broom-making wood. Or magical wood at all, really."
"I can't imagine you as anything but a wizened Quidditch referee." Pomona admitted.
"Honestly, Pomona, you're the one who's as bad as your 'Puffs. Did you know one of them asked me where I lived in the castle?" Rolanda asked, laughing.