Chapter 100: 31st October 1991, Thursday: Part 2

George walked alongside the flower beds and analysed which flowers would be best suited for his purpose, there was no shortage of choice. The Gryffindor badge was made up of; deep red Peonies, ladybird Poppies, Dahlias and of course the iconic English Rose, culminating in a dazzlingly vibrant display of reds and oranges. The Ravenclaw's blue and purple display was just as eye-catching as it was made up of; star-like Asters, Hydrangeas, the alien-looking Globe Thistles and, George's favourite, Bluebells which used to grow in a forest near the Linwood house in spring. He had used the forest as a private location to transform for the eleven months he had lived with the Linwoods and he had been pleasantly surprised with the arrival of thousands of Bluebells sprouting in March, it was a pity that he wouldn't have the chance to transform in a sea a Bluebells again.

George could tell that the Slytherin display received the least love since it was by far the dullest. The plants predominantly consisted of foliage and shrubs that he couldn't easily distinguish from sight alone. He would guess that a few Evergreens were most likely making up the body of the snake. George was only familiar with flowers because he had read one of Amanda's gardening magazines, he didn't bother reading about anything that wasn't colourful. He then reached the grandest display which was the Hufflepuff badge, it was made up of thousands of; Daffodils, Daisies, Marigolds, Sunflowers, Lilies, Tulips, Buttercups and much more, George couldn't name them all. The variety and intricacy of this particular display showed years of dedication and decades of talent, not one petal was out of place.

George could only think that it was a shame only he and a very small percentage of the world could ever appreciate such a wonderful display. Instead, the rest had to put up with the much inferior Chelsea Flower Show. His concentration on picking out the right flowers was broken by a perfectly disguised plump woman dressed in a muddy brown robe sticking her head up out of the display. The camouflaged woman was holding a trowel in one hand and a wand in the other and appeared to be in the middle of using magic to rearrange a portion of the enormous flower bed.

The ground started to shake below George's feet as the Daffodils uprooted themselves from the soil along with the Tulips and began to walk using their roots like legs. The two groups of flowers marched toward one another until they swapped places and replanted themselves into the ground, all the while, the muddy woman waved her wand like a conductor for an orchestra. She only stopped conducting once the two groups of flowers had finished switching places. The woman then placed her wand and trowel into a bucket on the ground, picked up the bucket, then turned around and started walking in George's direction.

Upon her dirty face being revealed to him, George recognised that she was none other than Sprout, his Herbology teacher and the head of Hufflepuff. She seemed to have noticed him too because Sprout started walking directly toward him whilst expertly avoiding standing on the plants below her with a level of grace one would normally not associate with a woman of that size or age. She acted like a spy dodging a laser alarm system as she lept through the air, narrowly avoiding stepping on the densely packed flowers.

George had to remember that, when it came to the Hogwarts professors, their physical appearances were very misleading. Wizards and witches were generally stronger and faster than their muggle counterparts possibly due to their magical diet improving their vitality. Dumbledore, for example, was over one hundred years old and yet acted and resembled a seventy-year-old, he could most likely outrun the average 50-year-old muggle. George used the few seconds he had before Sprout left the flower bed to re-evaluate his options and work out the best way to avoid suspicion, being polite always seemed like the best way to start.

Once Sprout was only a few feet away from him, George politely said, "what a pleasant coincidence it is meeting you out here, Professor Sprout."

Sprout didn't seem to have heard his words as she kept walking with a glazed overexpression until she was standing beside him, she looked to have a lot on her mind. She turned around to look back at the flower bed and wiped off the sweat on her brow with her sleeve which left a muddy mark behind. In this moment of awkward silence, George thought it would be best to stand still and act like a statue until Sprout regained her senses. He was well aware from personal experience that it was easy to get distracted completing one's own tasks and he personally didn't like being interrupted.

After thirty seconds of Sprout staring out at the flower bed, she finally said, "I'm not sure, what do you think? Is it better now or how it was before?"

George looked out at the flower bed and could hardly tell the difference. He recognised the fact that the tulips and the daffodils had swapped places but, in a display as grand as this one, he couldn't offer an opinion. Although he had read a little bit about gardening, George didn't have an eye for it. He never saw himself as the creative type, his brain prioritised function over form. He just liked the pretty colours and shapes, the calming effect was nice as well. Sprout's question would have been much better if she had been asking Neville, he would have had an opinion on this matter but he would have been too shy to express it. Since Sprout had gone to the effort to change the arrangement of the flower bed, it would probably be in his best interest to agree with the changes.

George answered enthusiastically, "I think it looks way better now, the Tulips didn't look right where they used to be."

Sprout nodded her head, "that's what I was thinking. The Tulips had taken to that new dragon manure so well that they completely overshadowed the Daffodils. At least this way you can now see both clearly from here."

George now learnt that dragon faeces made for good fertiliser, yet another pointless fact about his species. That reminded him, he hadn't had the chance to inquire about those vacant dragon books from five weeks ago. He would have to remember to go and take a look next time he returned to the Library, maybe the shelves would be full.

She turned her head to face George and looked at him confused, "my memory must be failing me, who are you again?"

"George Linwood, Professor. I will be attending your Herbology lesson in about ten minutes", George answered whilst checking his watch.

An expression of realisation overcame Sprout, "oh it's you, the tall heavy-handed one. But if I remember correctly…"

She looked at George's crest on his robe before continuing, "you're in Slytherin. What are you doing out here so early in the morning?"

George hadn't anticipated running into Sprout in the gardens so he hadn't prepared an excuse in advance, he couldn't imagine the odds of her being in the same flower bed he was planning to steal from. There was always an easy option of convincing her that he had been merely admiring the gardens, but that would leave him empty-handed. He needed to leave with some flowers to make his plan work. Perhaps a little honesty with a pinch of childish innocence would be the best approach for George to get what he wanted without garnering any negative attention.

George made up his mind, he was going for the puppy peeing on the rug approach. He started to mimic Neville as he pointed his head towards the ground and rubbed his hands together nervously.

He said with a subdued voice, "I'm afraid that I must disappoint you, Professor. I came here with ill intentions. I was planning on picking a few of your flowers from the display. I thought since the display was made up of thousands of flowers, no one would notice a dozen or so missing."

Although George was averting his eyes, he could feel the disappointment emanating from Sprout as she was no doubtedly shaking her head towards him.

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She snorted derisively before saying, "and why would you go and do something like that Mr Linwood? Did some of your friends dare you to do it? Think it would be funny to destroy others' hard work, do you? Explain yourself."

George lifted his head with a panicked expression as he conveyed, "not at all Professor. Although I admit to coming here to vandalise the garden, it wasn't with any malice. I have come here to appreciate this wonderful display of nature frequently over the past month to help me control my anxiety. I know of its importance and the effort many have invested to maintain its splendour. It pains me to even consider damaging something that I and so many others hold so significant."

George could tell that his eloquent words had left Sprout rather befuddled, that must have been the first time she received such an unusual excuse. Most Slytherin students who had damaged the gardens as a laugh must have planned fake alibis or testimonials to save their skin. George was taking the opposite approach, he admitted to his mistake and condemned his actions before the professor could. His self-inflicted punishment would hopefully trick Sprout into assuming his actions must have been justified.

She spent a few seconds inspecting George's face, most likely to check his sincerity, before asking him, "if you're not lying to me, because that would be a huge mistake if you did, then why would you consider vandalising the gardens?"

George bit his lip and unfocused his eyes to give Sprout the impression he was debating the best way to explain his answer. What he had in mind was something that most young boys wouldn't be too confident or comfortable admitting to, hence why he dragged out his response.

After a few seconds, George took a deep breath in and sighed before 'confessing', "it's as I said Professor, the Hogwarts gardens do wonders to cure my anxiety. All it takes is a few minutes of basking in their vibrant glory and all seems right with the world. I thought that if it had that effect on me then it should be the same for others. I thought that if I brought some flowers to someone upset then they would start to feel better as well."

"And who exactly would this person happen to be?", Sprout asked with a lingering doubt.

George scratched his cheek awkwardly whilst saying, "it's a girl I met on the Hogwarts Express. She's called Hermione Granger, a first-year like me.  I'm guessing that you teach her as well."

Sprout smirked as she started putting the pieces together just as George intended, "Miss Granger, I remember her. She's a smart one, always putting her hand up in class."

George smiled self-deprecatingly as he continued, "that sounds like Hermione alright. As I'm sure you already know, we're in different houses so I don't see her as often as I would like. Although, I have noticed that she's been feeling a bit under the weather lately because the other Gryffindor students haven't been friendly to her. It's not their fault though, Hermione just has a unique way of talking to people that sounds like she's belittling them but she doesn't mean it. So…"

"So you wanted to give her some flowers to cheer her up", Sprout finished George's sentence with a suggestive smile on her face.

George thought to himself, "yes, that's exactly what I want you to think", but in reality, he merely nodded his head bashfully.

Sprout then cupped her chin whilst looking out towards the Hufflepuff flower display. She stood still whilst in deep thought for almost an entire minute before she nodded her head and turned back to face George. If he had correctly interpreted her attitude, then Sprout was about to hand him the flowers on a silver platter.

She pulled out a large rusty pocket watch from her robes and sternly looked at it before saying to him, "I want to make it very clear that I do not approve of any form of vandalisation of the Hogwarts Gardens no matter the excuse. Normally, I would issue detention to the offending students along with the deduction of house points for committing such an abominable act."

Although George could work out where this was going, he decided to act horrified by the exaggerated threats. Any first-year would find the deduction of house points extremely scary, none of them wanted to be responsible for making their house lose the House Cup. Some students cared about house points more than their grades, it was a little confusing since the points reset at the end of the year but your grades stayed with you for life. George was the exception, it wasn't like the opinion of his fellow Slytherins could drop any lower and his grades meant nothing to him. His plans would result in little to no time for him to study so his good grades would most likely start nose-diving.

Sprout's serious expression slackened as she finished, "but, under these specific circumstances, I think I can excuse your behaviour since you hadn't performed the crime yet and had honestly admitted your mistake to me."

George acted as if a heavyweight had been lifted off his shoulders after hearing her exoneration. Sprout's expression suggested that she was taking pleasure out of playing his emotions like a fiddle, he got enough of this from Myrtle. Little did she know, it was George who was manipulating her.

Sprout patted her hands against her legs as she said, "in regards to your 'friend'. We don't have enough time now so stay behind after class and we'll see what we can find to cheer Miss Granger up."

George was happy to hear that Sprout had a soft heart for his hopeless romantic act and had agreed to help him find some flowers. There was a high chance that the selected flowers might be extra special judging by the way Sprout worded her last sentence, running into her might just turn out to be a happy accident after all. George put on an anxious smile as he nodded whilst he was escorted by Sprout back to Greenhouse One.

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