Sry about this chapter taking so long, ya'll, but thanks for all the
supportive reviews. Wow, it reached fifty, simply amazing! =) I love you
all, I really do, I just have no life anymore, never mind time for writing
this. *Sigh.* I truly have no idea when the next chapter will be coming,
but I promise you it'll be good ;) Just a short recap for those of you who
are too lazy to skim the last chapter - Eevee just finished a rather tasty
interlude with Sirius over scrambled eggs, and is not experiencing her
first Hogwarts class - Herbology!
*****Chapter 6: Misadventures with Rose Bushes*****
"Students, this is Ms. Evelyn Jones. She'll be watching our class today on orders of the Headmaster; I expect you all to be very polite and respectful."
The greenhouses were, if I must say so myself, the most normal looking things I'd seen so far. Or at least, from the outside they were. Inside I was still discovering flowers that somehow glared at me and others that either hissed or snored - but at least approaching the buildings I'd been lulled into a false sense of security. Remus was long gone, having dodged off rather suspiciously after dumping me at the small door of Greenhouse 2 and waving a cheery goodbye. He hadn't stopped grinning at me since the incident with Black, which, to tell the truth, was more damned annoying than anything. I'd have to have a talk with the man - in fact, both men - and soon.
As I was, looking around the inside of the small building, I realized this wasn't some ordinary greenhouse. No, this was a Home and Garden from Hell.
Close to thirty curious, snot nosed brats stared up at me as though they'd never seen a woman before. My eyes searched over them, my mind wandering to the past ten minutes spent with a rather sexy pair of lips, then my gaze landed on a few boys at the back of the class. Their heads were stuck together and they were sniggering.
Uh-oh.
My eyes narrowed - I sensed danger. Two boys talking was one thing, two boys giggling was quite another, especially when they kept glancing in my direction. I glared at them. I was just starting to plot out a way to get back there and wallop them when the teacher, a "Mrs. Sprout" character, shouted something alarmingly loud.
"Now that that business is taken care of, class-"
I had turned to stare at the plump old lady as she began explaining something, pulling on a pair of gloves that looked strangely like alligator skin. Wasn't poaching those things illegal? Christ, didn't these people have any respect for nature??? 'Well, of course not, Eevee,' Jiminy Cricket chirped up inside my head. 'They're witches and wizards, for God's sake! They don't know what being "natural" is!'
I almost sniggered.
The woman proceeded in chattering away happily, beaming as she hefted a rather large looking flower pot into the air and shook it around dangerously. I stared at the poor plant, trying to figure just what it was, then finally figured it was some sort of radish. Great, the crazy old bat was going to teach us how to transplant radishes - why the hell was I here again?
Then the woman grabbed the plant and viciously ripped it from the dirt.
"Christ!" I screamed - almost as loud as the plant did. For it wasn't a bush, no no, it didn't have roots or a round bulbous body or anything. It was a baby! The mad woman had just pulled a fucking BABY out of the ground! And it was wailing with the most God awful noise I had ever heard!
"Ms. Jones, Ms. Jones, are you quite alright?" Mrs. Sprout demanded, dropping the baby - dropping it! - to the ground where it rolled under one of the benches. I stared at the dirty naked thing in horror, suddenly quite regretful that I had eaten breakfast.
"That's a baby," I said as she came up next to me and put a hand on my shoulder.
"A mandrake, dear, just a young sproutling. . . really, nothing to get upset over!" The woman was patting my shoulder, getting my ratty old robe smeared with dirt. I turned to stare at her.
"Mandrake?" I squeaked. "That. . . that THING. . . is a PLANT???"
"Oh dear," Mrs. Sprout bit her lip in obvious distress. I was too shocked to notice - was there no end? Dear God, I had died and gone to Hell, or at least some sadistic version of Hell where an old lady was transplanting babies into radish pots. . . .
"Maybe you'd best sit down, dear," Sprout continued, pushing me gently backwards. It was only then that I realized there was a whole bushel of children giggling and staring at me. I was past caring - hell, they didn't even seem to notice the baby rolling around beneath the table! "Yes, back here, away from all the trouble. . . I'm so sorry you had to see this, I simply forgot you were a Muggle. You seem to fit in here so well-"
"What?" I demanded, snapped out of my reverie. "You think I FIT IN here?"
"Well, I. . . I just - I mean, you're so. . ." the woman was flustered and growing red in the cheeks. Finally I sighed - I didn't like any of this, I was really starting to wonder on whether or not I should just take my chances with What's His Name and go home, but at the moment I was stuck here. Stuck in a school of witchcraft and wizardry.
Alright, I could deal. I was American, it's what I did.
With a sigh I pushed her away, trying to drown out the wailing of the poor child while ignoring the sniggers of the students. The worst part of school is the kids, as far as I'm concerned. Children were cruel and heartless, and that was that. Mrs. Sprout continued to gaze at me worriedly, her old wrinkled face reminding me perversely of a Mrs. Clause, but finally I climbed to my feet and she backed off. Good girl, go back to teaching your brats and leave me the fuck alone.
Mrs. Sprout assumed that I was alright since I hadn't fainted on the floor thus far, so left me and went to calm the kids. I drifted away from the group past the various potted plants, wishing desperately that I was somewhere else; half of me was still watching hopefully for some flower I'd recognize.
"Pssst!"
The offending sound could have come from a gas tank, but no, it was just some kid ducking inadequately behind a large flower pot. I glanced his way, raised an eyebrow, then went about the business of assuming he was talking to someone else.
"Pssst! Lady!"
Seeing as I was the only one old enough around here to be called a "lady" - except Mrs. Sprout, but seeing as she was on the opposite side of the room, I doubt a child would be whispering to her - I turned to look at the boy.
"What?" I asked, rather bluntly and at normal volume. The kid just about jumped out of his robes. I took this moment to study his appearance - he was twelve or thirteen, with pale smooth cheeks an sandy blond hair. There was a nervous twitch to his hands as he straightened his collar and blinked at me with watery blue eyes. I waited.
"Uh. . . I-I dropped my quill in the bush here, and I can't slip my hand through the thorns to grab it. Since you have such long fingers, I. . . I thought maybe you could help."
Bush? Thorns? For the first time I cared to notice the plant he was ducking behind, and found to my delight that it very closely resembled a rose bush. Hell - it WAS a rose bush, complete with budding red petals and small sharp thorns. Normally I would have told the kid he was out of luck and left - I was the kind of neighbor who kept the balls that fell in my yard - but something about the plant caught my attention. A sigh of resignation escaped my lips; well, I guess I had to do some good deed to get into Heaven.
And so I approached the thick mass of dark leaves and thorns, peering through the twisting limbs. Finally I found myself down near the base of the pot right next to the youngster, and was staring at what appeared to be some sort of seagull feather laying in the rich brown soil. A small frown tugged across my lips - how did a thing so big fall between such tightly packed thorns?
It's right there that I should have known better, but hey, I had been thrown into the middle of Never Never Land - of course I wasn't thinking straight! And so, idiot that I am, I reached my hand gently through the tangled branches and began to edge carefully, inch by inch, towards the dirt. The last thing I needed was to get pricked by a thorn - who knew what kind of new diseases I'd be exposed to in this land? The last thing I needed was a tiny cut turning into gangrene.
"Almost there, kid," I muttered, and glanced at the child. There was a peculiar expression on his face, crossed somewhere between amusement and horror, and that look made me freeze in place immediately. My eyes narrowed. "Something wrong?"
"Um. . . no," the boy muttered.
"You have a 'something' face."
If anything, the kid turned a bit green. Then he met my eyes, and when he did, I knew I was in trouble. "Listen, miss, I didn't mean it, honest!" he started. "But those boys told me to!"
It took me a matter of seconds to figure out that by "those boys" he meant the giggling trio I had spotted upon first entering the green house. Personally, I was starting to feel a bit stupid and embarrassed - which of course would only lead to me being irritated and then angry.
"You better not being saying what I think you're saying," I muttered.
"Listen, miss, nothing will happen if you just pull your hand out-"
SCREEEEEEE!!!!
A fresh scream from one of the baby "mandrakes" broke my concentration, along with the rest of the boy's sentence. "Fucking A!" I yelled, and gave a start of surprise - wedging my hands against the thorns.
The pricks of pain were at first normal, and with a gasp and a small yelp I tried to pull my hand out - except it wouldn't come. "What the fuck?" I demanded, my hair wild around my face and my breathing fast. The kid was next to me, eyes so wide I thought they'd pop out of his head. With a violent tug I tried to rip my hand from the bush, and it certainly did work. . . well, the ripping part anyway. The bush didn't let go, but now there was blood dripping everywhere and smeared across my arm.
It was by this time that I was really starting to freak out. I thrashed again, and the plant closed tighter - was it just me, or were the thorns growing? All I knew was that it was starting to hurt like a son of a bitch. "Christ," I muttered, and in horror felt something suspiciously like a tear streak down my cheek. "Why can't I just fuckin' adapt???"
I gave it one last tug before I grimaced in pain, cursed again, and shoved the boy out of the way. "Eh. . . Mrs. Sprout?" I called. I couldn't see her from around the huge bush, but I heard a hush go over the class. Oh, it was humiliating! "Listen, Mrs. Sprout, I seem to be. . . a b-bit stuck," the tremor in my voice was unexpected and not at all welcomed.
"What's that Eevee dear?" The old lady called back. "I'll be back in a moment, class, just work on your sketches for now. . . oh my!" The plump, bustling lady appeared but stopped as soon as she saw me. Immediately I saw her begin to wring her dirty apron in her equally grubby hands, but the lack of hygiene no longer meant shit.
"Oh my?" I squeaked. "OH MY??? That is NOT going to help me get out of this!"
"Oh my oh my oh my," I heard her mutter quickly, and was not at all reassured. She had the same slightly panicked look that I'm sure was on my face. "Just - uh - just hold on, dear, I'll be right back!"
"What? You can't leave me!" I shrieked.
But that was exactly what she did.
I was beginning to glimpse curious faces around the sides of the monstrous bush, and made sure to scowl at every one of them. There were a few sniggers; I swear to God, the moment I got out of this those three boys were gonna pay-!
"I hope you've all made your peace," I muttered.
I couldn't believe this, COULD NOT believe this. Here I was in the middle of a green house from Hell, my hand caught in a flesh eating rose bush, and the only person who even had a slight hope of getting me out had just ran away. Whatever happened to honor and chivalry and all that other good stuff you think of when you think of the English? Was this place even in England?
There was a click as the door opened and shut, and a second later a rather pink Mrs. Sprout bustled up followed by a matriarch of a woman I immediately remembered. Why, if it wasn't the esteemed McGonagall! And oh, behind HER there was another teacher, one I dimly remembered as being called "Madame Pumpy." Or Pomphrey. Or something like that. Minerva looked me over with a grim expression.
"Oh, of all the - you get into more mischief than the kids do!"
I glared at her, unable to believe she was going to give me this crap. "Wait, can you hold on a second? I haven't quite lost enough blood to faint yet," I bit out sarcastically. "Oh, and while you're at it, feel free to call the rest of the class over. I'm sure this is very educational!"
The woman dressed as a nurse behind McGonagall gave me a sympathetic look and opened her mouth to say something, but Minerva cut her off. She gave me a starchy look over her glasses. "You're not very funny, Ms. Jones," she barked. "Now listen to what I say, or we'll be forced to leave you here!"
"Oh beautiful," I muttered.
"Now, Mrs. Sprout is going to take this potion-" she withdrew a suspicious looking purple vial out of her sleeve and handed it to Sprout. "-And pour it over the plant. The bush will then be paralyzed; Mrs. Sprout is going to cut you loose, and Madame Pomphrey here will immediately give you a salve to put on your hand. You are then to follow her to the infirmary, do you understand?"
"Yes, dear," I tried to drip the words, but the effect was ruined as the bush squeezed a bit tighter. Oh, the pain! "And just what are you here for - moral support?"
"No, I'm here to make sure you don't do anything else stupid."
I opened my mouth indignantly, about to exclaim "It wasn't my fault!" when Madame Pomphrey's voice cut me off.
"Hurry, Sprout, it'll be too late soon!"
This immediately caught my attention. "What?!" I demanded frantically.
Mrs. Sprout stepped over next to the bush, uncorked the purple vial, then splashed the clear contents over the plant. I stared at it for a moment in shock under the impression that it was just water - what the hell was that supposed to do for me? - then something smelling vilely like rotten eggs hit my nose. Ugh. Whatever this magic stuff was, it was NOT to be used as perfume.
The plant began to shudder almost immediately, almost like a person going into convulsions, then steam began to rise from the branches. After a good thirty seconds of this, the shaking slowly stopped and the leaves fell limp.
"Okay, dear, move out of the way while I cut you loose," Sprout murmured.
"Well, I'm a bit stuck," I offered. My frantic and bitchy mood was beginning to ebb away, being replaced by the sweet warmth of relief. I watched as Sprout reached into the bush and began cutting away the limbs with a pair of small, neat scissors. Wait a moment - scissors? Dear God, so normal things DID exist in this world! It was pathetic how happy this made me feel.
Finally my hand was free, and Sprout assisted me in pulling it away from the plant. I glanced at the limb and grimaced - blood was smeared everywhere across the skin, and large thorns were wedged into the flesh like odd growths. There was even a portion of a vine still attached, which Mrs. Sprout clipped away quickly.
A second later and Pomphrey took her place, dunking my hand in a bowl of Cool Whip. Or at least it looked like Cool Whip - it could have been anything and I wouldn't have cared, it just felt too damned good. The burning sting of the thorns began to numb over, and the knot of tension that was on my brow loosened.
"Follow me, Ms. Jones," the nurse smiled, and gave me a tug towards the exit of the green house. I followed after, slightly dazed by the whole ordeal and once again wondering why my life had taken such an unexpected turn.
"Call me Eevee," I murmured out of habit.
On the way out of the building I realized the green house was empty of students, and figured someone must have sent them away. Thank God - the last thing I needed was admitting defeat to a plant in front of thirty-some twelve-year-olds. I tried not to step on Pomphery's long gray cloak as we exited onto the grounds.
This was definitely the last time I stopped to smell the roses.
******
The nurse's wing was, well, white.
And rather empty.
Or at least the room I was in was empty - I felt like I had entered one of those old civil war hospitals where there was nothing but tile floors and cots. I was sitting on said cot, trying to find a comfortable position on material obviously designed to keep you awake. The lumpy pillow beneath my head was the only thing working for me at the moment, and even that smelled slightly funny - sorta like shampoo and dust.
With a sigh I shifted again and winced when my hand let out a twitch of discomfort. It was still heavy and numb, the bandages around it stiff, but I could see the tips of my fingers and I thought they looked okay. Personally, I felt like I was in perfect health, and wanted nothing more than to slip into a warm bath and soak. Oh, and maybe eat a few tubs of chocolate ice cream. Did they even have ice cream around here? I frowned. Now that's a troubling thought.
The sheer white boringness of the hospice was beginning to work its magic on me, and I felt my eyes drifting closer and closer to sleep. What was the use of being awake? My dreams were more normal than my reality around here anyway. Finally I convinced myself that sleep was the only escape, and darkness was just starting to cloud when-
"You were letting him pet a WHAT???"
My eyes snapped open with a jolt.
"A chimera, Poppy, but really the beast was harmless. Neville here just didn't have his gloves on."
My eyes widened in horror, and I listened to the heels tapping across the tiles, growing closer and closer from the hall outside the room. Dread filled my stomach. "Dear God, no," I whispered; I had to be mistaken, life wasn't this cruel-!
The door opened. "You come with me, Neville, and I'll see to that bite. . . there there, my boy, don't cry - it'll all be alright."
"See there, Neville? I told you Poppy would take care of everything- "
The nurse's sweet old voice cut off the deep tenor. "And YOU, Mr. Black, stay right where you are! We're going to have to have a talk about this with the Headmaster, I will NOT have you endangering the students!"
A small shiver ran down my spine at the sound of that name. I thought I had recognized that voice, but my mind had assured me it was just my imagination. Now my cheeks flushed in anticipation of the embarrassing scene about to take place, and I stole a quick glance over my shoulder just in case I was still mistaken.
Damn.
I couldn't see the bastard around the divider walls that circled my cot, but by the movement I could guess where he was standing. I bit my lip in distress - God, but I didn't want him to see me this way! How mortifying!
The click of heels approached again, this time followed by a clumping pair of shoes, and I turned over and shut my eyes pretending to sleep. The heels passed, along with a whispered "hush" to the sniffling boy that followed. The pair continued on through the infirmary until I heard a door shut quietly somewhere on the other side of the room. The sound should have relaxed me, but in truth it only made me more tense.
What now?
For a long moment there was silence, and I strained my ears to hear anything, half hoping to hear Sirius approach and half hoping he had left. How embarrassing to be caught in such a weak and feeble position - right in front of the person I wanted to impress! Wait a moment here, impress? What the fuck? Wasn't it the guy who had to impress the girl?
I'm sure my stomach was beginning to develop an ulcer by the time I finally heard something - a something that wasn't very reassuring. "It was just a bit of harmless fun," the deep voice murmured, and I felt the words all the way down my spine. My, how I wanted to have some harmless fun right now!
Oh yeah, harmless fun in a hospital gown, that's very glamorous Eevee.
The footsteps were soft and slow, but I heard them coming closer. My heart sped with each foot fall - inside I was a tossed salad of emotion; did I want him to see me like this? What if he laughed? What would he think of me? What kind of a guy went for a damsel in distress, anyway?
A split second and another foot fall later, I made up my mind. Desperately I flung the blanket over my head and buried my face in the pillow, trying to act asleep though I knew I was far too stiff and breathing way too fast. Screw it - how perceptive could he be? Maybe if he saw a sleeping hospital patient, he'd just go away.
Did I really want him to go away?
Oh, shut up Eevee and make up your mind!
The footsteps came to a curious halt, and I knew he was looking in the sectioned off area where my cot was. I imagined I could feel those midnight eyes sweeping over my form in interest, and subconsciously I held my breath. Any moment now those feet would turn around and head back the other direction - I mean, seriously, who would try to wake the casualty of a murderous thorn bush?
Maybe I was too distracted by my own thoughts, but I swear I didn't hear anything; one moment I was playing dead, the next there was a warm hand resting on my hip. No, not warm, burning - a burning hand. I could feel it through the sheet and through the thin night shirt Mrs. Pomphrey had dressed me in. It sent shutters of awareness through my body, spreading from my hips to my stomach and lower. My breathing hitched.
Dammit - he knew! I knew he knew, but how I have no idea. There was a soft, utterly sexy chuckle from somewhere above me.
"It couldn't be a student," the voice muttered, "they're kept in separate rooms. I'd guess a teacher, maybe, except I don't know anyone with curves like these."
I began to tremble as the hand smoothly slid from my hip down the dip of my waist and to my ribs. "Well, I suppose you could be a teacher on second thought," he whispered, "but that hair could only belong to a goddess."
Wait a moment - hair? It was only then that I realized my traitorous red locks were sticking up from the top of my blanket, as dark as blood against the white sheets. Aw shit.
As though reading my mind, Sirius pulled the blanket from me and leaned over, trapping me between his arms. I rolled to my back and stared up, going into shock from suddenly being in very close quarters to an extremely tempting mouth. The mouth in question was pulled into a taunting, sensual grin.
"Hiding, Ms. Jones?"
I grimaced slightly, our noses almost touching. God, but that face - why was this man single???
"Boo," I muttered lamely.
Then he smiled fully, an expression that should have made those dark peepers crinkle in amusement. . . yet strangely enough they stayed empty and blank. It was an unnerving expression, and for a moment I couldn't help but wonder just what the hell it meant.
I opened my mouth with the idea to say something wonderfully sarcastic and redeeming, but the chance was stolen. By his tongue.
Our lips didn't touch, they hovered millimeters from each other as his tongue dipped into my mouth to stroke my own. I felt my breathing stop out of sheer, pleasurable shock, and a hot flush lit my cheeks. I tried to stay calm as that tongue dipped in and out, tracing over my teeth, then touching my lips and sending tingles through me that shocked my very core. Heat. Beautiful heat - a licking flame in my stomach. My legs. My hips, my chest, my arms, my throat.
I couldn't help it - my arm raised and wrapped around his neck, and I pulled those lips down to my own. "Feed me," I murmured into his mouth as I pressed myself against him, opening to him, begging him to kiss me the way he had that morning.
But he didn't.
He kept it cordial and polite, dipping his tongue in to greet my own sweetly, then withdrawing again to fuse our lips together. He seemed to know what I wanted and was determined not to give it.
In astonishment I heard a frustrated groan wrestle from the back of my throat, and his lips smiled around mine. Gently he broke away, hovering not an inch above me, no sound between us except the panting of my own breath. No, that was too short! I needed more! My whole being was trembling, the cast on my hand making it heavy and hard to hold up. With a sigh I tried to pull him back down, but he resisted, and I frowned. A blush crept up my cheeks. Dear God, what if he was just playing? What if none of this was real and he was about to tell me he was taken already, or married, or gay, or. . . or. . . dammit, I knew this was too good to be true!
"Sh, slow down," he whispered against my lips, and a hand ran through my hair. "I want to enjoy you."
Oh God, those words, the sound of his voice. . . the feather of his breath. . . this was the perfect man!
"By the Ministry! What ARE you two DOING!?"
Sirius and I separated immediately with a startled yelp. Black positioned himself a few feet away while I laid back, propped up by pillows. I tried to look wide eyed and innocent, and in amusement I found the same expression on Black's face. If it wasn't for our swollen lips and sexed hair, it would have looked damned convincing.
Pomphrey stared at us from the opening between the dividers, her mouth agape and a pink flush in her cheeks. I couldn't tell if the flush was caused by anger or embarrassment - but by her stance I'm sure outrage had something to do with it. Her feet were set apart and one hand was firmly on her hip, the other clasping the hand of. . . of a rather chubby boy who'd probably just hit puberty. The boy had mousy brown hair and a rather dopey looking face - I could tell one of these days he'd have jowls to rival a blood hound's.
By the look on the boy's face, I'm sure he was caught somewhere between avid interest and fainting.
"Why - why - Mr. Black! Ms. Jones!" Pomphrey stuttered again. Was it just me, or this time was there a slight touch of amusement in her voice? Now my face was beginning to burn, and a sheepish smile fought its way across my lips. Sirius glanced at me, and I saw an echoing smirk around his own mouth. "You two should know that this is - is no place for such. . . such behavior!"
"Eh, sorry," I muttered, then stopped to clear my throat of left over arousal and a bit of spit (which didn't happen to belong to me, mind you.) "It won't happen again. . . ?"
"I can assure you it won't!" The lady barked. "Neville dear, why don't you sit down on that cot over there while I take down these dividers. Obviously Ms. Jones is NOT to be trusted alone!"
My eyes narrowed. "Hey, that's not very fair!"
I would have gone farther, except one look from the aging lady made my mouth snap shut. What was it with old people and those "shut your face" looks? I made a note of finding out how to do that.
Sirius sort of stood around as Madame Pomphrey began stripping down the green dividers. I couldn't say he looked awkward, but I'd definitely agree that he was out of place. Most of Pomphrey's wrath seemed to be focused on me, almost as though she had expected more of me, or for some reason didn't want to scold Sirius. The latter made no sense at all, but the former worried me greatly - if they had come to expect such behavior from Black, did that mean that I was just his next victim? Looking at his gorgeous everything, I wouldn't be surprised.
God, don't let it be true!
Finally Pomphrey was finished, and she turned to give us another firm glare. "Now, Ms. Jones, stay put in bed for the rest of this hour and I MIGHT decide to let you leave in time for your next class! You're lucky you have a full hour of lunch to recover! As for you, Neville. . . you just relax until I get back." Then the nurse whirled on Sirius, her nose in the air. "Mr. Black, YOU are coming with ME." With that she grabbed Sirius by the collar of his shirt and dragged him forcefully towards the exit. The man only had a moment to turn partially and wave, then he was gone and out the door, his complaints ringing down the halls.
I sat in bed for a moment, my heart still racing, my mind a whirl of pink fluffy thoughts. Wow, had I really just been caught macking with a gorgeous guy? This was better than high school! With a cheery grin I turned to the sorrowful young man next to me and felt my spirits dampen immediately. God, just looking at him made me want to commit suicide. His arm was in a thick sling and there were tear streaks down his cheeks - his eyes were puffy and red. Just to make matters worse, he was staring at me with an expression of blank fascination and trepidation.
"So what are you in for?" I asked to break the ice.
The kid stared at me for a moment. "Um. . . got bit by a chimera," he muttered, then looked down and blush.
I sighed. "Ouch," I murmured. "Yeah, I got attacked by a killer rose bush."
"The one in Greenhouse 2?"
I had been gazing down at my blanket, but looked up to see the boy staring at me thoughtfully. "Yeah, that one," I nodded.
The boy hesitantly shifted. "I got my hand stuck in there once too," he confided.
"But aren't you a wizard?" I blinked - wait a moment here, so I wasn't the first idiot to get attacked by a plant? "Aren't you magic people supposed to be immune to that kind of stuff?"
The boy sighed. "Yeah, most of them are. . . but I don't know, sometimes I just feel really out of place. Sorta like I don't belong. I'm not very good at all this magic business."
I felt a warm tingle somewhere deep in my heart, and a rather soft smile lit my features. I gazed at the boy and knew that I was seeing a kindred spirit. "Me too," I whispered. The boy met my eyes and grinned a little shyly. I grinned back.
After a moment I swung my legs out of bed and stretched out my hand to the kid - might as well make the best of my time here, right? "I'm Eevee," I said.
"Neville," he took my hand.
"Nice to meet you, Neville."
I'm sure this will be the start of a beautiful relationship.
**** Please review! I'll try to get the next chapter up, but it's not even written yet and I don't know when I'll get the time. The reviews really do help. Thanks so much!
*****Chapter 6: Misadventures with Rose Bushes*****
"Students, this is Ms. Evelyn Jones. She'll be watching our class today on orders of the Headmaster; I expect you all to be very polite and respectful."
The greenhouses were, if I must say so myself, the most normal looking things I'd seen so far. Or at least, from the outside they were. Inside I was still discovering flowers that somehow glared at me and others that either hissed or snored - but at least approaching the buildings I'd been lulled into a false sense of security. Remus was long gone, having dodged off rather suspiciously after dumping me at the small door of Greenhouse 2 and waving a cheery goodbye. He hadn't stopped grinning at me since the incident with Black, which, to tell the truth, was more damned annoying than anything. I'd have to have a talk with the man - in fact, both men - and soon.
As I was, looking around the inside of the small building, I realized this wasn't some ordinary greenhouse. No, this was a Home and Garden from Hell.
Close to thirty curious, snot nosed brats stared up at me as though they'd never seen a woman before. My eyes searched over them, my mind wandering to the past ten minutes spent with a rather sexy pair of lips, then my gaze landed on a few boys at the back of the class. Their heads were stuck together and they were sniggering.
Uh-oh.
My eyes narrowed - I sensed danger. Two boys talking was one thing, two boys giggling was quite another, especially when they kept glancing in my direction. I glared at them. I was just starting to plot out a way to get back there and wallop them when the teacher, a "Mrs. Sprout" character, shouted something alarmingly loud.
"Now that that business is taken care of, class-"
I had turned to stare at the plump old lady as she began explaining something, pulling on a pair of gloves that looked strangely like alligator skin. Wasn't poaching those things illegal? Christ, didn't these people have any respect for nature??? 'Well, of course not, Eevee,' Jiminy Cricket chirped up inside my head. 'They're witches and wizards, for God's sake! They don't know what being "natural" is!'
I almost sniggered.
The woman proceeded in chattering away happily, beaming as she hefted a rather large looking flower pot into the air and shook it around dangerously. I stared at the poor plant, trying to figure just what it was, then finally figured it was some sort of radish. Great, the crazy old bat was going to teach us how to transplant radishes - why the hell was I here again?
Then the woman grabbed the plant and viciously ripped it from the dirt.
"Christ!" I screamed - almost as loud as the plant did. For it wasn't a bush, no no, it didn't have roots or a round bulbous body or anything. It was a baby! The mad woman had just pulled a fucking BABY out of the ground! And it was wailing with the most God awful noise I had ever heard!
"Ms. Jones, Ms. Jones, are you quite alright?" Mrs. Sprout demanded, dropping the baby - dropping it! - to the ground where it rolled under one of the benches. I stared at the dirty naked thing in horror, suddenly quite regretful that I had eaten breakfast.
"That's a baby," I said as she came up next to me and put a hand on my shoulder.
"A mandrake, dear, just a young sproutling. . . really, nothing to get upset over!" The woman was patting my shoulder, getting my ratty old robe smeared with dirt. I turned to stare at her.
"Mandrake?" I squeaked. "That. . . that THING. . . is a PLANT???"
"Oh dear," Mrs. Sprout bit her lip in obvious distress. I was too shocked to notice - was there no end? Dear God, I had died and gone to Hell, or at least some sadistic version of Hell where an old lady was transplanting babies into radish pots. . . .
"Maybe you'd best sit down, dear," Sprout continued, pushing me gently backwards. It was only then that I realized there was a whole bushel of children giggling and staring at me. I was past caring - hell, they didn't even seem to notice the baby rolling around beneath the table! "Yes, back here, away from all the trouble. . . I'm so sorry you had to see this, I simply forgot you were a Muggle. You seem to fit in here so well-"
"What?" I demanded, snapped out of my reverie. "You think I FIT IN here?"
"Well, I. . . I just - I mean, you're so. . ." the woman was flustered and growing red in the cheeks. Finally I sighed - I didn't like any of this, I was really starting to wonder on whether or not I should just take my chances with What's His Name and go home, but at the moment I was stuck here. Stuck in a school of witchcraft and wizardry.
Alright, I could deal. I was American, it's what I did.
With a sigh I pushed her away, trying to drown out the wailing of the poor child while ignoring the sniggers of the students. The worst part of school is the kids, as far as I'm concerned. Children were cruel and heartless, and that was that. Mrs. Sprout continued to gaze at me worriedly, her old wrinkled face reminding me perversely of a Mrs. Clause, but finally I climbed to my feet and she backed off. Good girl, go back to teaching your brats and leave me the fuck alone.
Mrs. Sprout assumed that I was alright since I hadn't fainted on the floor thus far, so left me and went to calm the kids. I drifted away from the group past the various potted plants, wishing desperately that I was somewhere else; half of me was still watching hopefully for some flower I'd recognize.
"Pssst!"
The offending sound could have come from a gas tank, but no, it was just some kid ducking inadequately behind a large flower pot. I glanced his way, raised an eyebrow, then went about the business of assuming he was talking to someone else.
"Pssst! Lady!"
Seeing as I was the only one old enough around here to be called a "lady" - except Mrs. Sprout, but seeing as she was on the opposite side of the room, I doubt a child would be whispering to her - I turned to look at the boy.
"What?" I asked, rather bluntly and at normal volume. The kid just about jumped out of his robes. I took this moment to study his appearance - he was twelve or thirteen, with pale smooth cheeks an sandy blond hair. There was a nervous twitch to his hands as he straightened his collar and blinked at me with watery blue eyes. I waited.
"Uh. . . I-I dropped my quill in the bush here, and I can't slip my hand through the thorns to grab it. Since you have such long fingers, I. . . I thought maybe you could help."
Bush? Thorns? For the first time I cared to notice the plant he was ducking behind, and found to my delight that it very closely resembled a rose bush. Hell - it WAS a rose bush, complete with budding red petals and small sharp thorns. Normally I would have told the kid he was out of luck and left - I was the kind of neighbor who kept the balls that fell in my yard - but something about the plant caught my attention. A sigh of resignation escaped my lips; well, I guess I had to do some good deed to get into Heaven.
And so I approached the thick mass of dark leaves and thorns, peering through the twisting limbs. Finally I found myself down near the base of the pot right next to the youngster, and was staring at what appeared to be some sort of seagull feather laying in the rich brown soil. A small frown tugged across my lips - how did a thing so big fall between such tightly packed thorns?
It's right there that I should have known better, but hey, I had been thrown into the middle of Never Never Land - of course I wasn't thinking straight! And so, idiot that I am, I reached my hand gently through the tangled branches and began to edge carefully, inch by inch, towards the dirt. The last thing I needed was to get pricked by a thorn - who knew what kind of new diseases I'd be exposed to in this land? The last thing I needed was a tiny cut turning into gangrene.
"Almost there, kid," I muttered, and glanced at the child. There was a peculiar expression on his face, crossed somewhere between amusement and horror, and that look made me freeze in place immediately. My eyes narrowed. "Something wrong?"
"Um. . . no," the boy muttered.
"You have a 'something' face."
If anything, the kid turned a bit green. Then he met my eyes, and when he did, I knew I was in trouble. "Listen, miss, I didn't mean it, honest!" he started. "But those boys told me to!"
It took me a matter of seconds to figure out that by "those boys" he meant the giggling trio I had spotted upon first entering the green house. Personally, I was starting to feel a bit stupid and embarrassed - which of course would only lead to me being irritated and then angry.
"You better not being saying what I think you're saying," I muttered.
"Listen, miss, nothing will happen if you just pull your hand out-"
SCREEEEEEE!!!!
A fresh scream from one of the baby "mandrakes" broke my concentration, along with the rest of the boy's sentence. "Fucking A!" I yelled, and gave a start of surprise - wedging my hands against the thorns.
The pricks of pain were at first normal, and with a gasp and a small yelp I tried to pull my hand out - except it wouldn't come. "What the fuck?" I demanded, my hair wild around my face and my breathing fast. The kid was next to me, eyes so wide I thought they'd pop out of his head. With a violent tug I tried to rip my hand from the bush, and it certainly did work. . . well, the ripping part anyway. The bush didn't let go, but now there was blood dripping everywhere and smeared across my arm.
It was by this time that I was really starting to freak out. I thrashed again, and the plant closed tighter - was it just me, or were the thorns growing? All I knew was that it was starting to hurt like a son of a bitch. "Christ," I muttered, and in horror felt something suspiciously like a tear streak down my cheek. "Why can't I just fuckin' adapt???"
I gave it one last tug before I grimaced in pain, cursed again, and shoved the boy out of the way. "Eh. . . Mrs. Sprout?" I called. I couldn't see her from around the huge bush, but I heard a hush go over the class. Oh, it was humiliating! "Listen, Mrs. Sprout, I seem to be. . . a b-bit stuck," the tremor in my voice was unexpected and not at all welcomed.
"What's that Eevee dear?" The old lady called back. "I'll be back in a moment, class, just work on your sketches for now. . . oh my!" The plump, bustling lady appeared but stopped as soon as she saw me. Immediately I saw her begin to wring her dirty apron in her equally grubby hands, but the lack of hygiene no longer meant shit.
"Oh my?" I squeaked. "OH MY??? That is NOT going to help me get out of this!"
"Oh my oh my oh my," I heard her mutter quickly, and was not at all reassured. She had the same slightly panicked look that I'm sure was on my face. "Just - uh - just hold on, dear, I'll be right back!"
"What? You can't leave me!" I shrieked.
But that was exactly what she did.
I was beginning to glimpse curious faces around the sides of the monstrous bush, and made sure to scowl at every one of them. There were a few sniggers; I swear to God, the moment I got out of this those three boys were gonna pay-!
"I hope you've all made your peace," I muttered.
I couldn't believe this, COULD NOT believe this. Here I was in the middle of a green house from Hell, my hand caught in a flesh eating rose bush, and the only person who even had a slight hope of getting me out had just ran away. Whatever happened to honor and chivalry and all that other good stuff you think of when you think of the English? Was this place even in England?
There was a click as the door opened and shut, and a second later a rather pink Mrs. Sprout bustled up followed by a matriarch of a woman I immediately remembered. Why, if it wasn't the esteemed McGonagall! And oh, behind HER there was another teacher, one I dimly remembered as being called "Madame Pumpy." Or Pomphrey. Or something like that. Minerva looked me over with a grim expression.
"Oh, of all the - you get into more mischief than the kids do!"
I glared at her, unable to believe she was going to give me this crap. "Wait, can you hold on a second? I haven't quite lost enough blood to faint yet," I bit out sarcastically. "Oh, and while you're at it, feel free to call the rest of the class over. I'm sure this is very educational!"
The woman dressed as a nurse behind McGonagall gave me a sympathetic look and opened her mouth to say something, but Minerva cut her off. She gave me a starchy look over her glasses. "You're not very funny, Ms. Jones," she barked. "Now listen to what I say, or we'll be forced to leave you here!"
"Oh beautiful," I muttered.
"Now, Mrs. Sprout is going to take this potion-" she withdrew a suspicious looking purple vial out of her sleeve and handed it to Sprout. "-And pour it over the plant. The bush will then be paralyzed; Mrs. Sprout is going to cut you loose, and Madame Pomphrey here will immediately give you a salve to put on your hand. You are then to follow her to the infirmary, do you understand?"
"Yes, dear," I tried to drip the words, but the effect was ruined as the bush squeezed a bit tighter. Oh, the pain! "And just what are you here for - moral support?"
"No, I'm here to make sure you don't do anything else stupid."
I opened my mouth indignantly, about to exclaim "It wasn't my fault!" when Madame Pomphrey's voice cut me off.
"Hurry, Sprout, it'll be too late soon!"
This immediately caught my attention. "What?!" I demanded frantically.
Mrs. Sprout stepped over next to the bush, uncorked the purple vial, then splashed the clear contents over the plant. I stared at it for a moment in shock under the impression that it was just water - what the hell was that supposed to do for me? - then something smelling vilely like rotten eggs hit my nose. Ugh. Whatever this magic stuff was, it was NOT to be used as perfume.
The plant began to shudder almost immediately, almost like a person going into convulsions, then steam began to rise from the branches. After a good thirty seconds of this, the shaking slowly stopped and the leaves fell limp.
"Okay, dear, move out of the way while I cut you loose," Sprout murmured.
"Well, I'm a bit stuck," I offered. My frantic and bitchy mood was beginning to ebb away, being replaced by the sweet warmth of relief. I watched as Sprout reached into the bush and began cutting away the limbs with a pair of small, neat scissors. Wait a moment - scissors? Dear God, so normal things DID exist in this world! It was pathetic how happy this made me feel.
Finally my hand was free, and Sprout assisted me in pulling it away from the plant. I glanced at the limb and grimaced - blood was smeared everywhere across the skin, and large thorns were wedged into the flesh like odd growths. There was even a portion of a vine still attached, which Mrs. Sprout clipped away quickly.
A second later and Pomphrey took her place, dunking my hand in a bowl of Cool Whip. Or at least it looked like Cool Whip - it could have been anything and I wouldn't have cared, it just felt too damned good. The burning sting of the thorns began to numb over, and the knot of tension that was on my brow loosened.
"Follow me, Ms. Jones," the nurse smiled, and gave me a tug towards the exit of the green house. I followed after, slightly dazed by the whole ordeal and once again wondering why my life had taken such an unexpected turn.
"Call me Eevee," I murmured out of habit.
On the way out of the building I realized the green house was empty of students, and figured someone must have sent them away. Thank God - the last thing I needed was admitting defeat to a plant in front of thirty-some twelve-year-olds. I tried not to step on Pomphery's long gray cloak as we exited onto the grounds.
This was definitely the last time I stopped to smell the roses.
******
The nurse's wing was, well, white.
And rather empty.
Or at least the room I was in was empty - I felt like I had entered one of those old civil war hospitals where there was nothing but tile floors and cots. I was sitting on said cot, trying to find a comfortable position on material obviously designed to keep you awake. The lumpy pillow beneath my head was the only thing working for me at the moment, and even that smelled slightly funny - sorta like shampoo and dust.
With a sigh I shifted again and winced when my hand let out a twitch of discomfort. It was still heavy and numb, the bandages around it stiff, but I could see the tips of my fingers and I thought they looked okay. Personally, I felt like I was in perfect health, and wanted nothing more than to slip into a warm bath and soak. Oh, and maybe eat a few tubs of chocolate ice cream. Did they even have ice cream around here? I frowned. Now that's a troubling thought.
The sheer white boringness of the hospice was beginning to work its magic on me, and I felt my eyes drifting closer and closer to sleep. What was the use of being awake? My dreams were more normal than my reality around here anyway. Finally I convinced myself that sleep was the only escape, and darkness was just starting to cloud when-
"You were letting him pet a WHAT???"
My eyes snapped open with a jolt.
"A chimera, Poppy, but really the beast was harmless. Neville here just didn't have his gloves on."
My eyes widened in horror, and I listened to the heels tapping across the tiles, growing closer and closer from the hall outside the room. Dread filled my stomach. "Dear God, no," I whispered; I had to be mistaken, life wasn't this cruel-!
The door opened. "You come with me, Neville, and I'll see to that bite. . . there there, my boy, don't cry - it'll all be alright."
"See there, Neville? I told you Poppy would take care of everything- "
The nurse's sweet old voice cut off the deep tenor. "And YOU, Mr. Black, stay right where you are! We're going to have to have a talk about this with the Headmaster, I will NOT have you endangering the students!"
A small shiver ran down my spine at the sound of that name. I thought I had recognized that voice, but my mind had assured me it was just my imagination. Now my cheeks flushed in anticipation of the embarrassing scene about to take place, and I stole a quick glance over my shoulder just in case I was still mistaken.
Damn.
I couldn't see the bastard around the divider walls that circled my cot, but by the movement I could guess where he was standing. I bit my lip in distress - God, but I didn't want him to see me this way! How mortifying!
The click of heels approached again, this time followed by a clumping pair of shoes, and I turned over and shut my eyes pretending to sleep. The heels passed, along with a whispered "hush" to the sniffling boy that followed. The pair continued on through the infirmary until I heard a door shut quietly somewhere on the other side of the room. The sound should have relaxed me, but in truth it only made me more tense.
What now?
For a long moment there was silence, and I strained my ears to hear anything, half hoping to hear Sirius approach and half hoping he had left. How embarrassing to be caught in such a weak and feeble position - right in front of the person I wanted to impress! Wait a moment here, impress? What the fuck? Wasn't it the guy who had to impress the girl?
I'm sure my stomach was beginning to develop an ulcer by the time I finally heard something - a something that wasn't very reassuring. "It was just a bit of harmless fun," the deep voice murmured, and I felt the words all the way down my spine. My, how I wanted to have some harmless fun right now!
Oh yeah, harmless fun in a hospital gown, that's very glamorous Eevee.
The footsteps were soft and slow, but I heard them coming closer. My heart sped with each foot fall - inside I was a tossed salad of emotion; did I want him to see me like this? What if he laughed? What would he think of me? What kind of a guy went for a damsel in distress, anyway?
A split second and another foot fall later, I made up my mind. Desperately I flung the blanket over my head and buried my face in the pillow, trying to act asleep though I knew I was far too stiff and breathing way too fast. Screw it - how perceptive could he be? Maybe if he saw a sleeping hospital patient, he'd just go away.
Did I really want him to go away?
Oh, shut up Eevee and make up your mind!
The footsteps came to a curious halt, and I knew he was looking in the sectioned off area where my cot was. I imagined I could feel those midnight eyes sweeping over my form in interest, and subconsciously I held my breath. Any moment now those feet would turn around and head back the other direction - I mean, seriously, who would try to wake the casualty of a murderous thorn bush?
Maybe I was too distracted by my own thoughts, but I swear I didn't hear anything; one moment I was playing dead, the next there was a warm hand resting on my hip. No, not warm, burning - a burning hand. I could feel it through the sheet and through the thin night shirt Mrs. Pomphrey had dressed me in. It sent shutters of awareness through my body, spreading from my hips to my stomach and lower. My breathing hitched.
Dammit - he knew! I knew he knew, but how I have no idea. There was a soft, utterly sexy chuckle from somewhere above me.
"It couldn't be a student," the voice muttered, "they're kept in separate rooms. I'd guess a teacher, maybe, except I don't know anyone with curves like these."
I began to tremble as the hand smoothly slid from my hip down the dip of my waist and to my ribs. "Well, I suppose you could be a teacher on second thought," he whispered, "but that hair could only belong to a goddess."
Wait a moment - hair? It was only then that I realized my traitorous red locks were sticking up from the top of my blanket, as dark as blood against the white sheets. Aw shit.
As though reading my mind, Sirius pulled the blanket from me and leaned over, trapping me between his arms. I rolled to my back and stared up, going into shock from suddenly being in very close quarters to an extremely tempting mouth. The mouth in question was pulled into a taunting, sensual grin.
"Hiding, Ms. Jones?"
I grimaced slightly, our noses almost touching. God, but that face - why was this man single???
"Boo," I muttered lamely.
Then he smiled fully, an expression that should have made those dark peepers crinkle in amusement. . . yet strangely enough they stayed empty and blank. It was an unnerving expression, and for a moment I couldn't help but wonder just what the hell it meant.
I opened my mouth with the idea to say something wonderfully sarcastic and redeeming, but the chance was stolen. By his tongue.
Our lips didn't touch, they hovered millimeters from each other as his tongue dipped into my mouth to stroke my own. I felt my breathing stop out of sheer, pleasurable shock, and a hot flush lit my cheeks. I tried to stay calm as that tongue dipped in and out, tracing over my teeth, then touching my lips and sending tingles through me that shocked my very core. Heat. Beautiful heat - a licking flame in my stomach. My legs. My hips, my chest, my arms, my throat.
I couldn't help it - my arm raised and wrapped around his neck, and I pulled those lips down to my own. "Feed me," I murmured into his mouth as I pressed myself against him, opening to him, begging him to kiss me the way he had that morning.
But he didn't.
He kept it cordial and polite, dipping his tongue in to greet my own sweetly, then withdrawing again to fuse our lips together. He seemed to know what I wanted and was determined not to give it.
In astonishment I heard a frustrated groan wrestle from the back of my throat, and his lips smiled around mine. Gently he broke away, hovering not an inch above me, no sound between us except the panting of my own breath. No, that was too short! I needed more! My whole being was trembling, the cast on my hand making it heavy and hard to hold up. With a sigh I tried to pull him back down, but he resisted, and I frowned. A blush crept up my cheeks. Dear God, what if he was just playing? What if none of this was real and he was about to tell me he was taken already, or married, or gay, or. . . or. . . dammit, I knew this was too good to be true!
"Sh, slow down," he whispered against my lips, and a hand ran through my hair. "I want to enjoy you."
Oh God, those words, the sound of his voice. . . the feather of his breath. . . this was the perfect man!
"By the Ministry! What ARE you two DOING!?"
Sirius and I separated immediately with a startled yelp. Black positioned himself a few feet away while I laid back, propped up by pillows. I tried to look wide eyed and innocent, and in amusement I found the same expression on Black's face. If it wasn't for our swollen lips and sexed hair, it would have looked damned convincing.
Pomphrey stared at us from the opening between the dividers, her mouth agape and a pink flush in her cheeks. I couldn't tell if the flush was caused by anger or embarrassment - but by her stance I'm sure outrage had something to do with it. Her feet were set apart and one hand was firmly on her hip, the other clasping the hand of. . . of a rather chubby boy who'd probably just hit puberty. The boy had mousy brown hair and a rather dopey looking face - I could tell one of these days he'd have jowls to rival a blood hound's.
By the look on the boy's face, I'm sure he was caught somewhere between avid interest and fainting.
"Why - why - Mr. Black! Ms. Jones!" Pomphrey stuttered again. Was it just me, or this time was there a slight touch of amusement in her voice? Now my face was beginning to burn, and a sheepish smile fought its way across my lips. Sirius glanced at me, and I saw an echoing smirk around his own mouth. "You two should know that this is - is no place for such. . . such behavior!"
"Eh, sorry," I muttered, then stopped to clear my throat of left over arousal and a bit of spit (which didn't happen to belong to me, mind you.) "It won't happen again. . . ?"
"I can assure you it won't!" The lady barked. "Neville dear, why don't you sit down on that cot over there while I take down these dividers. Obviously Ms. Jones is NOT to be trusted alone!"
My eyes narrowed. "Hey, that's not very fair!"
I would have gone farther, except one look from the aging lady made my mouth snap shut. What was it with old people and those "shut your face" looks? I made a note of finding out how to do that.
Sirius sort of stood around as Madame Pomphrey began stripping down the green dividers. I couldn't say he looked awkward, but I'd definitely agree that he was out of place. Most of Pomphrey's wrath seemed to be focused on me, almost as though she had expected more of me, or for some reason didn't want to scold Sirius. The latter made no sense at all, but the former worried me greatly - if they had come to expect such behavior from Black, did that mean that I was just his next victim? Looking at his gorgeous everything, I wouldn't be surprised.
God, don't let it be true!
Finally Pomphrey was finished, and she turned to give us another firm glare. "Now, Ms. Jones, stay put in bed for the rest of this hour and I MIGHT decide to let you leave in time for your next class! You're lucky you have a full hour of lunch to recover! As for you, Neville. . . you just relax until I get back." Then the nurse whirled on Sirius, her nose in the air. "Mr. Black, YOU are coming with ME." With that she grabbed Sirius by the collar of his shirt and dragged him forcefully towards the exit. The man only had a moment to turn partially and wave, then he was gone and out the door, his complaints ringing down the halls.
I sat in bed for a moment, my heart still racing, my mind a whirl of pink fluffy thoughts. Wow, had I really just been caught macking with a gorgeous guy? This was better than high school! With a cheery grin I turned to the sorrowful young man next to me and felt my spirits dampen immediately. God, just looking at him made me want to commit suicide. His arm was in a thick sling and there were tear streaks down his cheeks - his eyes were puffy and red. Just to make matters worse, he was staring at me with an expression of blank fascination and trepidation.
"So what are you in for?" I asked to break the ice.
The kid stared at me for a moment. "Um. . . got bit by a chimera," he muttered, then looked down and blush.
I sighed. "Ouch," I murmured. "Yeah, I got attacked by a killer rose bush."
"The one in Greenhouse 2?"
I had been gazing down at my blanket, but looked up to see the boy staring at me thoughtfully. "Yeah, that one," I nodded.
The boy hesitantly shifted. "I got my hand stuck in there once too," he confided.
"But aren't you a wizard?" I blinked - wait a moment here, so I wasn't the first idiot to get attacked by a plant? "Aren't you magic people supposed to be immune to that kind of stuff?"
The boy sighed. "Yeah, most of them are. . . but I don't know, sometimes I just feel really out of place. Sorta like I don't belong. I'm not very good at all this magic business."
I felt a warm tingle somewhere deep in my heart, and a rather soft smile lit my features. I gazed at the boy and knew that I was seeing a kindred spirit. "Me too," I whispered. The boy met my eyes and grinned a little shyly. I grinned back.
After a moment I swung my legs out of bed and stretched out my hand to the kid - might as well make the best of my time here, right? "I'm Eevee," I said.
"Neville," he took my hand.
"Nice to meet you, Neville."
I'm sure this will be the start of a beautiful relationship.
**** Please review! I'll try to get the next chapter up, but it's not even written yet and I don't know when I'll get the time. The reviews really do help. Thanks so much!