Chapter 13: Lessons in Geraniums

"You will find that making potions comes to an explosive end if your ingredients are incorrect," Wayne said sombrely as he directed the class. "You will also find that it comes to a grinding half it you do not have the ingredients to begin with. As potion making is intricately linked to to the ingredients, today we will be sharing a class with Professor Longbottom, who has been kind enough to share his time with us to go over where and how we get some of our most common ingredients for our next potion." Wayne bowed his head towards Neville Longbottom, who was walking up the aisle from the back.

"Each of you has a fanged geranium on your desk," Neville explained. "It is one of the more commonly obtainable ingredients you will need in potions, but as you will experience today, commonly obtainable does not always mean easily obtainable. Some coaxing may be necessary to get what you want, and the key is to know what that may be."

"What you want from a fanged geranium is its teeth," Wayne explained to his class. "But any old teeth will not suffice. Killing the fanged geranium for its teeth is both reckless and wasteful. It also makes the teeth less potent than those freely given, which will make for unbalanced potions if you choose the lazier route."

Neville passed by a few pots with fanged geraniums in them that were gathered on the front desk where Hermione and Severus were silently grading parchments. All of the geraniums were still as Neville went by, save one, that stuck its head out from its foliage and snapped at Neville with an audible clack of its mouth.

Neville glared at the offending geranium and sighed. "Most fanged geraniums become used to tending after working with them for a while and will volunteer up their loose fangs after being tended. Professor Sprout, for example, likes to water the geraniums first, then goes about pruning back the old foliage to make way for the younger and healthier leaves. Usually by the time she she is done, the geranium has give her at least four to eight teeth. Multiply this by how many geraniums we have in the greenhouse, you get an idea of how many teeth we gather a week. There are some plants, unfortunately, that never acclimatize themselves to being tended, and rarely shed their teeth voluntarily." Longbottom glared at the geranium that had snapped at him. "Some of them are downright moody."

"We will need approximately four to eight fangs for our potion work next class, so our task today is for you to gather what fangs you can from our geranium friends," Wayne announced.

"Some prefer to water the geranium first, but you may wish to prune them first. The choice is yours, but be careful not to treat the plant poorly. It will respond in kind," Neville explained as he walked by the desk again. The moody fanged geranium snapped at him again, causing half the class to giggle. Neville attempted to move the ornery plant away from the others, but the plant made for his fingers. He snatched his hand back and narrowed his eyes at the irritable plant.

"You may begin," Wayne directed. "If you have questions or problems, be sure to raise your hand. There is no excuse for treating the geraniums poorly."

Neville glared at the geranium that was determined to make his life difficult. "I'm not sure why Pomona put you in the crate with the others. It's not like you will let anyone tend you."

"Are you arguing with a plant, Mr. Longbottom?" Severus quipped from his pile of scrolls. His red quill was working furiously in his hand. Severus didn't even bother looking up.

Neville gulped, trying to stifle his instinctive response to the older Potion Master. "It's a one sided argument, Professor Snape," he replied, inwardly proud that he didn't stutter his response in front of a full class of students, yet still resigned to the fact he could never bring himself to call Severus by his first name.

"The plant seems to be winning," Severus sniffed, scrawling an elegant, yet distinctive 'T' over the parchment he was grading. He pushed the scroll to the side and picked up the next.

Neville blushed slightly and furrowed his brows as Hermione extended her arm out and her hand curled around the fanged geranium's pot and pulled it closer to her.

Hermione did not look up from her grading any more than Severus. Her free hand, however, gently caressed the head of the geranium that had taken snaps at Neville. The fanged geranium rattled its foliage, leaning into her touch. She ran her fingers under the geranium's "jaw," causing it to rattle softly, its foliage rustled back and forth.

Neville frowned and experimentally extended his hand towards the geranium. The plant paused in rubbing against Hermione's hand in order to take another snap at Neville, proving his hypothesis that that particular geranium hated his guts.

Hermione dipped her hand into the nearby water glass and held it out. The geranium happily wrapped its mouth around her fingers, absorbing the water with enthusiasm. She repeated the action multiple times in an absent manner, as if she didn't even realize she was doing it. Her quill continued to work furiously on writing on the parchment in front of her.

Ignis, who had been watching the interaction with curiosity, shuffled down Hermione's arm from her shoulder and eyed the fanged geranium curiously. The geranium rattled its foliage, but did not snap as the chick pressed his beak to the fanged geranium's closed mouth and peeped.

Hermione's hand came down upon Ignis, soothing his feathers and down as her fingers gently stroked the fanged geranium's "chin." The geranium rattled softly and shuddered, depositing a small pile of its teeth into Hermione's hand. She deposited the teeth into the small dish on her desk as her hand went back to both scratching the phoenix chick and rubbing the geranium's head like one would pet a cat. All of what she did, she did without looking up from her writing, causing Neville to face-palm in resignation.

As if to prove how much both Professors Snape were working in automation, Hermione folded the parchment she was writing, deposited a pool of wax on it, and pulled out her signet from her robe. She held it out without a word, and Severus extended his join with hers with a click. They cast it down into the warm wax as a flash of magic sealed the letter to their official seal.

A small flying owl appeared out of no where, skidding to a halt on her desk, giving a soft hoot of greeting. Hermione offered the random owl a tidbit of food from the desk as the Ignis and Sparks chirped greetings to the owl. Sparks hopped down Severus' sleeve much like Ignis had earlier. They both walked towards the owl and preened the visitor thoroughly.

The owl hooted softly, preening the chicks affectionately before opening his beak for the letter. Hermione passed the owl the letter, and he was off to deliver.

The two phoenix chicks walked closer to the nippy geranium and peeped curiously. The plant rattled back to them. Sparks took one of its tendrils in her beak. The geranium closed its mouth over Ignis' head. Ignis peeped indignantly, and the geranium let go, rattling as if in laughter. The geranium opened its mouth widely, and the two chicks stuck their heads into its open maw curiously. The geranium was still for a moment before it closed its mouth lightly over the chicks and they pulled back with a chirp. The plant rattled. The chicks warbled and tiredly flopped next to the geranium. The plant settled back into a resting position, looking as dormant as its fellows on the desk.

Neville exchanged glances with Wayne Mitchell and slammed his palm against his forehead once more. It figured that the temperamental geranium of the bunch would be friendly to a Snape. Any Snape. At least the geranium wasn't snuggling up to the bane of his school's historical existence.

Wayne and Neville walked down the aisles, helping each of the students harvest their geranium fangs. A few of the students tried to coax cooperation from the geraniums, a few attempted threats, a few tried bribery, and a few tried blatant pleading. Each seemed to experience varying degrees of success.

Neville guided one student who had a geranium clamped onto her robes into appeasing the plant with water and tending, winning the girl a couple of its coveted teeth. The girl sighed gratefully, rubbing her arm where the unhappy plant had tried to take a chunk out of her.

Wayne whapped a boy upside the head with Arithmancy and You when he started to threaten his geranium with bodily harm. The geranium proceeded to ignore him completely, refusing to move, rattle, or expose its teeth. Wayne took the geranium and placed it on the front desk, picking up a replacement from the desk and setting it down in front of the frazzled student. "Try to be more accommodating, Mr. Reynolds," Wayne rumbled. "Instead of threatening a plant with physical violence."

Reynolds looked sheepish and attempted a kinder approach.

Neville shook his head at Wayne. Wayne shrugged his shoulders, tucking his book back into his robes. Neville turned back towards the front of the room and saw both Snapes were quilling onto parchments, ignoring both Wayne and Neville as well as the class. The fanged geraniums on the desk were all turned towards them, waving their open mouths and rattling their foliage. The two phoenix chicks were doing the same, vibrating their wings and opening their mouths in a not so subtle plea for food.

Both Hermione and Severus did not even look up from their grading as their hands stuffed gooseberries into the hungry chicks' beaks. They both dipped their fingers into the bowl of water on the desk and held it out to the geraniums, allowing the eager plants to envelope their fingers, absorbing the water directly from their skin. Both professors did the action nonchalantly, seemingly too engrossed with their parchments to notice what they were doing in synchronization. A large pile of geranium fangs were stacked on the desk in a testament to the plants' eagerness to please.

Neville hung his head. Professor of Herbology he may be, but sometimes the plants chose who they preferred to interact with and it wasn't always the ones who made a life studying them. He would have to keep the fact that a group of Pomona's fanged geraniums had a crush on the Snape family a secret. She wouldn't believe him anyway.

Wayne placed jars next to each student as he passed. "Bottle up your fangs, everyone. When you have cleaned up your workspaces, return your geranium to the crate up front," Wayne announced. "Do not forget to bring your fangs to our next class. You will be using them."

There was a rustle of activity. One student raised their hand.

"Yes, Miss Lovegood?" Wayne asked.

"What if you only gathered two fangs?" she asked sadly.

Wayne gave a small tight-lipped smile. "Not to worry." Wayne eyed the giant stack of geranium fangs nestled between the two Snapes. "I'm sure we can find you a couple spares if you should need them."

All the students cleaned up their areas, returned their geraniums to the crate, and shuffled out towards their next class.

"Thank you for assisting me today, Neville," Wayne said as he shrugged his outer robe back across his shoulders.

"No problem," Neville chuckled. "They would have to learn it one way or another. Better that they learn the how and why together." Neville reached out and fingered the fabric of Wayne's outer robe. "Your robe is thicker than normal. Why is that?"

Wayne furrowed his brows. "Yours is not?" He reached out and fingered the fabric of Neville's teaching robe.

Neville shook his head. "I have a robe, but not an outer drape. Pomona does not require them."

Wayne appraised Neville as if looking at him for the first time. "Hrm. So it would seem."

"We do not require them, Mr. Longbottom," Severus droned as he placed his grading quill up. "But you would not wish to work with potions all day without one."

Neville startled at Severus' voice. "Protection?"

"It was one of the first things Severus gave me when he realized I was serious with becoming his apprentice," Hermione said with a chuckle, sticking her grading quill into the stand and stacking all the parchments together with Severus'. "Especially after Jeremy Thornberry blew up his cauldron all over me and it burned me right through my student robes."

Neville shuddered, remembering all the times his cauldron blew up and even more times that that it had coated half the classroom laboratory with some randomly colored goo due to his potion ineptitude. It had only been pure dumb luck that he hadn't seriously maimed someone with his mishaps.

Wayne seemed to sympathize with Neville's mental train back in time and gestured towards the door. "Let's get the geraniums back to the greenhouse so we can go eat. I'm starving."

Neville shook his head as he handed a crate to Wayne and picked up the other. "You're always starving. Are you sure you don't have a tapeworm?"

Wayne grinned. "Fairly positive."

Neville placed the remaining geraniums into his crate, narrowly missing being snapped by the irritable one in the group. He sighed, shaking his head.

Wayne snickered as they carried the crates out the classroom door. "See you at lunch, my Master, my Mistress," Wayne said, bowing slightly as he carried his crate out.

"Indeed, Mr. Mitchell," Severus and Hermione chimed, reverting to their more affectionate name for their apprentice.

"I still have that first robe you gave me, Severus," Hermione said with a smile. She leaned into his shoulder, bumping her head against his deltoid and resting it there.

Severus placed his hand on her head and patted her gently. "I would never have believed back then that you would do such a thing as save and old and abused robe," he rumbled softly.

Hermione blew air out her nose and pursed her lips together in amusement. "Many fond memories were built wearing that robe, Severus. I do not have the heart to part with it, even though I do not wear it anymore."

"I had to get Minerva's permission to alter your 'student' uniform," Severus admitted. "It did set you apart from your peers somewhat."

Hermione closed her eyes and chuckled. "Most students want to wear less, not more uniform," she recalled. "No one could figure out why I didn't ditch it the moment I was outside the potions classroom."

Severus rubbed the area behind her ear absently, causing her to give a good approximation of a Kneazle purring at the foot of the warm fireplace. "Why didn't you ditch it the moment you had other classes to go to?"

Hermione turned her head up to look Severus in the eyes. "I was your apprentice. That didn't change when you were out of eyeshot."

"I suppose it could have been worse," Severus said speculatively.

"How so?"

"Minerva could have gotten her hooks into your first and you'd have been brewing potions in flamboyant colors and gauzy dress robes," Severus said, deadpan.

"Pffffft," Hermione answered him,

"Don't you pfffft me, Ms. Granger," Severus admonished,

"That's Mrs. Snape to you, Professor," Hermione chastised.

Severus turned her jaw to his and placed a chaste kiss upon her lips. "So it is." He stood and offered his arm to her. "Lunch, I suppose is in order, unless our apprentice has eaten all of the food."

"Neville may be onto something," Hermione said. "He may have a tapeworm with all that he eats."

"Worry when he starts eating like a Weasley," Severus quipped, sniffing with one flared nostril. "Especially if he starts channeling the male side of the family's manners at the dinner table."

Hermione shuddered. "Point made." She transferred the phoenix chicks to their shoulders. "Grading is done, inventories done, and potion orders are scarily ahead of schedule. Do you want to write this down as a miracle or should we keep it to ourselves?"

"Hmmm," Severus answered. "I think we should keep this miracle to ourselves. It will be nice to have some time out from under copious stacks of parchment."

"Whatever shall we do with ourselves?" Hermione asked with a innocent smile.

"I'm sure we'll… think… of something," Severus purred.

Hermione's eyes brightened. "Read to me tonight?"

Severus met her eyes with his own, a smile quirked the edges of his mouth. "Always."

Hermione linked her arm in his and allowed him to guide her out the door. They closed the classroom behind them, locking and warding it with practiced habit. The two professors glided down the corridors of Hogwarts together, their dark robes fluttered behind them like flags as the two phoenix chicks chirruped sweetly from their shoulders.