Chapter 9 – An Englishman, An Irishman and A Scottish…Plant?

Disclaimer: We do not own anything that is recognisable as J. K. Rowling's (Sirius etc). Heather is our own personal creation, though.

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Heather rushed into the hospital wing, waving absent-mindedly at the matron, and seating herself next to her Florence's bed. She looked pale and her blue eyes were shadowed with lack of sleep as she stared down at her friend. This wasn't the first time she had visited since the accident, but the number of visits had no affect on the worry that consumed her. After all, Florence had been her best friend for well over 20 years.

"Florence?" Heather picked up her friend's listless hand, hoping that this time she would gain a response but, just like all the other times, Florence's eyes remained shut, her body still. "Speak to me…"

Heather called for a cup of tea and began to gently chatter to her about nonsensical things. "You know, my mother hasn't got in contact for a while; I think she's finally run out of things to bug me with! Imagine that… Oh and Sirius is just… well, you know… Sirius! I guess he's as dreamy as ever. He invited me to live with him and… that's where I'm living now. Isn't that amazing? If you had told me this at school I would have had a fit!"

A harrumph from behind her brought her to the attention that Snape was sat in a chair opposite the bed; he was glaring at her, but she just ignored him.

"I do believe Snape is giving me nasty looks. You'd better tell him off… Please, tell him off, Florence." Heather's voice broke as there was still no reply and Severus stood up, allowing the two friends some privacy. Heather knew that he wasn't too far away, just in case. A tear spilled down one cheek and she changed tacks.

"So… you know, I might still be in love with Sirius… He's oblivious as ever, but I'm going to keep trying though." Heather bit her lip. "Just the other night, he nearly caught me telling the mirror that I wanted to have his children…"

She trailed off as she noticed the tall man who was stood at the foot of the bed, one eyebrow raised so that it was almost hidden under his sandy hair.

"Uhh…" She groaned in embarrassment. "So, who's this?" She directed at the still body on the bed.

"Branson Leggett. Professor Branson Leggett." The man held out his hand and Heather grasped it, shaking it calmly.

"Hello, Professor Leggett. Don't mind me, I'm just nattering away…"

"Call me Bran. And don't worry about it. I came for the same reason." Branson grinned and took the seat on the other side of the bed.

"You came to ask Florence for help about man-troubles?" It was Heather's turn to lift her eyebrows and Branson let out a short laugh.

"Not exactly. I'm more here to keep an eye on Severus, while telling Florence all the news."

"News? What's the news for today?" Heather looked at him expectantly and he grinned, his violet eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Well… bread and butter pudding with custard is the best dessert that is being served for dinner tonight."

"And I wonder who told you that." Heather grinned, knowing that only Dumbledore would have supplied such information. "So, do you work here?"

"Sort of. I'm the Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor."

"But Flor-"

"She was my replacement and now I'm hers… temporarily." he added as he saw the sadness in Heather's eyes. "I work with Dumbledore at the Ministry."

"Oh! I worked at the Ministry in Australia. I was hoping to get a job in England but…" she shrugged, "no vacancies at the moment. I thought I recognised you! Weren't you at the World Cup?"

Branson blushed slightly. "I may have been."

Seeing his embarrassment and not wanting to be reminded of Florence's incapacitation, Heather changed the subject. "So, you've been lumbered with the task of looking after the infamous Professor Snape."

"I wouldn't say that but, as a friend, I feel it's my responsibility to watch out for him. He's taking it pretty hard…"

"Just like the rest of us, but he deserves to feel guilty – if it wasn't for him, she wouldn't have been there. But then I could have stopped her from seeing him…"

"I don't think this is the right time to assign blame." Branson interrupted firmly, his pronounced Irish accent marking the fact that he was upset.

"You're right."

"Hey, do you fancy grabbing a coffee in my rooms?"

Heather looked down at the bed and nodded slowly. "You don't mind, do you?" She asked Florence. "I didn't think so. I'll speak to you later, if you know what I mean! I still need your advice on a few things regarding a certain male we both know…"

Branson smiled and started walking with her out of the hospital wing. "So, who's this male?  If you need some advice, I'm sure I could supply some."

"Well, as a matter of fact…"

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Sipping casually at her cup of tea, Heather surveyed the room around her, trying to find something out about the man who owned it. It was quite bare apart from the large pile of papers that sat on his desk and the huge aquarium that leant against one wall.

Seeing what she was looking at, Branson shrugged and said, "That's Dermot," by way of explanation. It took her a while to notice the small frog that was balanced on a tree branch.

"Dermot the frog… that has a good ring to it." Heather mused.

"I always thought so. Florence finds it endlessly amusing, I never worked out why." Branson became thoughtful for a moment and then appeared to give up his deliberations. "So, who's this bloke you were talking about to Florence? If you don't find me impertinent by asking."

Heather blushed slightly and shrugged. "Well, I guess you'll find out sooner or later – it seems like the whole world knows except him."

Branson stretched his long legs out and sipped at his tea, waiting for her to continue.

"It's Sirius Black."

"Sirius Black? The guy who was on the run?" Branson's eyebrow rose again and Heather winced.

"Mmmm… I knew him at school. Well, we all knew each other: me and Florence, Sirius, James and Lily Potter, Remus Lupin… and Snape. I sort of had a crush on him then… Sirius, that is! Florence was with Snape…" Heather grimaced and Branson picked up on it.

"You didn't like Snape."

"Well, who did? Except from Florence; and I still don't understand why she did – he was a right git!"

Branson smiled, "Nothing's changed much, then," and Heather grinned.

"Nah… so me and Sirius met up in Australia – where I was living – during the World Cup and, you know, with the whole big disaster… Then, he got me fired and I moved back to England. He's letting me live with him 'til I find a place of my own – it is his fault I'm here." Heather spread out her hands and chuckled, "I suppose I put him in a position where he had to ask."

"How so?" Branson was intrigued.

"Well, I sort of cried all over him…" She wrinkled her nose in embarrassment. "I'm not the tearful type but with the build-up of all the events…"

Branson looked sympathetic, he nodded, letting the silence hang before he continued.

"So, what's wrong now?" He leant back and sipped his tea, eyeing her with curiosity.

Heather was just about to reply when there was a clatter from behind Branson's desk and the lid fell from Dermot's tank, pushed up by a large bubble.

"Bugger!" Branson announced, scraping his chair back noisily. "You might want to get out of the way, those things are deadly." He indicated the innocent looking bubble that was now floating halfway across the office.

Heather stepped back out of the way. DADA had never been her strong point and she knew nothing of magical frogs.

Branson bent down and rummaged under his desk. He eventually arose, banging his head in the process and muttering expletives, dragging a large trunk with him. He unlocked it with his wand and then stepped inside.

Heather looked around, more than a little confused and wondered if she didn't ought to step out into the hallway; the bubble was floating awfully close.

She sidestepped round to the side of the room where Branson had some elaborate diagram drawn on a blackboard.

The lid of the trunk burst open to noisy sounds of flapping wings and muttering Irishman. Branson stepped out, holding a less than happy duck firmly in his arms, its wings flapping as it quacked madly. "You have to burst the bubble with the beak of a duck or it will continue to float around until it bursts it poison out on a victim," Branson explained as he advanced with the irate waterfowl specimen.

Heather was starting to wonder if coffee had been such a good idea.

Branson burst the bubble, all business, and then deposited the bird back in its trunk. He rubbed his hands together. "Sorry about that, it doesn't happen very often," he apologised. "Every Bubble-blowing-Brazilian-bush-frog has to be purchased with a duck.

"Isn't the duck a little cramped in there?" Was all Heather could think of to say.

"I should hope not!" Branson kicked the trunk. "There's an entire pond and family of ducks and a small patch of parkland in there."

"Oh good," Heather sighed, finally calm enough to sit cautiously back down.

"So… you were telling me what was wrong now…" Branson continued as though nothing had happened.

Heather did her best to match him. "Oh! Nothing… He's just treating me as if I'm one of his sisters. Ever since I told him about my fiancé leaving… it's like he's been on eggshells…"

"Aahhh…" Branson grinned knowingly and wriggled his toes in his shoes.

"What? Bran, what is it?"

"I think I have a plan… Go out with me?"

"What?!" Heather's mouth dropped open. "Why?! I mean, you're very attractive and… well, I love your accent but…"

Branson's grin widened. "Well, thank you very much! That's the nicest compliment I've had all day. I meant, go out with me and see how Sirius reacts."

Heather eyed him doubtfully. "But, isn't that a little sneaky? A bit like lying?"

"Not if you actually went out with me. No strings. If he acts jealous, then you can make your move. Plus, it'll stir things up a bit; make him wonder what he's missing."

"And is that a good thing?" Heather wringed her hands in her lap.

"Definitely! So, will you?" He set his tea down and grabbed her hands, trying to stop her fiddling.

She thought about it for a second, biting her lip. "I guess…"

"That's the spirit! How about Thursday? We could go to the opera… I've been meaning to go."

Heather nodded, still doubtful. "I'll have to get a dress…"

"Super! Then, it's organised. Want another cup of tea?"

"No, I'd better go see Florence and then go home. I've got to apparate back to London." Heather got to her feet and brushed down her skirt.

"Ok. I'll come with you." Branson took her arm and they walked out of the door.

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No one noticed the young, blonde girl walking alone down the corridor towards the owlery – a fact that Heather was always happy with. She had never liked being put in the limelight. If she were ignored, no one would be keeping a careful watch on what she was doing.

She reached surreptitiously inside her bag and edged warily towards one of the school owls. Lifting the red card out, she handed it to the bird, who was looking at her suspiciously.

"Hey, what are you doing?!"

Heather jumped a mile when she heard the familiar male voice behind her. Shoving the card quickly back inside her bag, she spun around, her face flushed.

"Oh, Heather. It's you!" Sirius smiled. "I thought you were a Slytherin."

"Err… nope. I'm a Ravenclaw." Heather groaned inwardly as she heard her voice squeak the inane words. Fortunately, Sirius didn't seem to notice. He was looking a bit sheepish as he held an armful of red Valentine's cards.

"Actually, I was hoping to use that owl. You see, I've been feeding him treats all week so he would deliver these without eating them," he explained.

"Oh! Sorry," Heather edged away, hoping to escape before he asked her intentions.

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "So, you're sending a Valentine's card this year? Let's see it. Who's it for?"

"I'm not sending any cards, ever. I never send cards." Heather's voice sounded strangled as she rushed through her speech and Sirius grinned widely.

"Don't believe you. Come on, let's see."

"No!" Heather cried and dashed down the stairs.

There was a slight pause as Sirius stared with his mouth agape at where she had made her speedy exit.

"Well, that was rude," he commented; a large grin spread across his face as he handed the load of cards to the suspicious bird. "And don't eat those, you hear?"

"You know, I sent you a Valentine's card once," Heather said musingly, interrupting the companionable silence, and Sirius looked up from his paper in shock.

"You did?"

"Mmm… It was quite large and had a big velvety heart on the front and, inside, it said…" She stopped to think. "To Sirius, I love you for now and for ever, from your dearest secret love. I think that's what it said."

"Oh, that's kinda sweet," he grinned.

"Yeah – it took me ages to think it up! I had prepared it a couple of months before…"

"Months?" His eyebrows were lifted in amazement.

"Yes. I'm a planner, didn't you know?" Heather smiled. "And then you almost caught me sending it. You had an armful of cards and not one of them was for me," she mock-pouted.

"Well, I didn't know…"

"It was obvious. I'm sure even someone as self-absorbed as you would have noticed!"

"Self-absorbed? I don't think so!"

"Prove it."

"How?"

"Err… name five of the girls that you dated while in seventh year."

"Ok… there was Myrna Lawton, Cynthia Irving… err…"

Heather grinned in triumph. "I rest my case. Oh, and, by the way, you dated Myrna in sixth year, not seventh."

Sirius' brow furrowed as he thought. "You know, I think you're right… Ah, yes. I dated Myrna's sister in seventh year," he admitted with a grin. "Louise… she had the most amazing-"

"I really don't want to know, thank you very much!" Heather interrupted firmly.

"I meant she had amazing eyes!"

Heather raised one eyebrow and gave him a sceptical look. "Yeah, right."

"She did! I mean, she did have other assets…" he subsided into silence under Heather's steely gaze.

"Sirius, I do believe you are the biggest philanderer I have ever met!" she said in exasperation.

"Well, thank you very much," Sirius grinned smugly. "I've worked very hard to become so."

Heather shook her head in amazement. "Why is it that men can sleep with as many women as they want but, if women do it, they're branded as tarts?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know. Why? Are you thinking about taking up a new hobby?" His eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

Heather frowned. He wasn't exactly showing any discomfort towards the idea of her gallivanting with other men. What did she have to do to make him care about her? Maybe it was a hopeless case. Maybe she should floo Bran and call the whole thing off.

Sirius clicked his fingers as something occurred to him. "Speaking of painting the town red, I have a dinner date tomorrow night. You don't mind do you?"

Heather smiled and shook her head, despite her feeling her stomach turn. "I have a date too, on Thursday."

Sirius' expression fixed briefly before he made his face relax. "Oh? Anyone I know?" he asked, going for casual.

"I don't think so," Heather shrugged. "I met him when I was visiting Florence."

"Mmm…" Sirius returned his gaze to the paper he was reading, creasing it with more firmness than necessary. "Well, I hope you have fun."

Heather smiled slightly. Her date was definitely back on.

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Authors' Notes:

Hello everyone! Sorry for the long wait – I've had a lot of coursework (groan!) to do. Computer Science is not as easy as it sounds!!! Besides, I was waiting for Martha to add something in to a scene and she's only just done it!

Oh, and sorry that I had to start with a repeated scene from Wrongs – it just seemed to fit right!

Anyways, away from the moaning! Thanks to everyone who read and special thanks to those who took the time to review – we love you!

Sapphireskies (my parents are quite nosy – my dad especially!), Drachenaugen (I'm sure he could as well! *sigh*), Hopeful Writer (If I tried to finish the story in one big chapter, you'd have to wait even longer for me to finish it!), DeadSEXY (Sorry for the long wait! But I'm glad you're addicted :-D), IluvSiriusBlack (Yay! New reviewer! Thanks so much for your nice words!), Prankster Queen (I appreciate the icecream, but I don't like cherries! J but the food bribes seem to have worked anyway!), Kori Lewis (Wow! Thanks! :-D).

HUGE thanks for the MEGA encouragement! I never expected that you would like it this much! J

Love,

Squirrel. xxx.

Oh, and Martha too.