The Wand Maker's Daughter

Greenhouse 1

Alex delicately snipped off a blue cornflower and handed to Florence. She gently placed it down into the thick, creamy paper using a pair of golden tweezers and folded it shut. Slipping the leather belt under the large, heavy book, she tightened the belt until it every page was fully compressed.
"I think that's enough," she said, and slipped the tweezers and tiny scissors into an embroidered felt case.
"Honestly," Evy said mockingly. "If Professor Chartum find out that this is what you do with the books from his precious library..."
"I don't think that anyone is going to read a book of this size. And besides, nobody comes down here anyways."
"Yes, because during a free period, most people study, or play games, and don't spend an hour holed away in a tiny greenhouse."
"What, and miss all of this lovely bonding time?" Florence teased. She helped Alex heave the book onto the high shelf just as clock tower struck eleven and they hurried out of the greenhouse, being careful to shut the door as they did so. They split up; Evy toured around the castle to get to the Alchemy classroom on the other side of the campus, whereas Alex, who had Culinary School, and Florence who had Potions classes at the same time, climbed up winding stair cases on the outside of the castle buildings to arrive at the two highest towers.

In potions class, Florence sat next to a Rosalie, a beautiful, pale girl that seemed to be of few words. Her robes were the silky scarlet of Diana house and rather looked like pools of blood on the cold stone floors. There were rumours that her grandmother was a famous vampire, but she steadfastly refused to address the rumour, and Florence had never dared to ask her about it. She acknowledged Rosalie with a cordial smile, and opened the window to look down at the view.
The Ilvermorny campus was famous for its beauty. A lake stretched around the castle, hugging it closely in some areas and splitting off into hundreds of tiny rivulets in others. The other half of the castle was shadowed by giant, snow capped mountains that were populated with moose, bears, deer and if you were lucky enough to spot them, centaurs, granians and woodland fairies.
The woods of the mountains slowly faded out into the beautiful glades that surrounded the castle and lake. These glades, in turn, gave way to the famous gardens of Ilvermorny. The kitchen gardens were a sight to behold; fat cucumbers and green beans dripped off the decadent vines; ripe, juicy tomatoes the size of bowling balls forced their stalks to bend to their will; the ground was carpeted with enormous pumpkins and squashes and their curling vines inched forwards whenever you weren't looking. Fruit trees bursting with colour and scent waved invitingly in the breeze,  and grape and berry vines climbed every post or pillar. And these fabulous gardens gave way to the magical and exciting plants of the wizarding world, the strange and the colourful, the intoxicating and the poisonous. Greenhouse one, a small and overlooked haven of muggle plants, was open to students. Florence loved to spend time in there; learning of the medical uses for every plant, and the superstitions that muggles connected them with. But, even she had to admit that it was dwarfed in beauty when compared to greenhouse two and three. Greenhouse two was where they took herbology lessons; the mismatched and broken glass housed plants of all magical abilities. The vivid flowers and vines spilled out, in shades of everything from toxic pinks and greens to dark, rich purples or chaotic splashes of every colour under the sun. Greenhouse three was much of the same, but greenhouse four was small and dark and poisonous, and off limits to everyone but the very most qualified of herbology professors.

Florence smiled and breathed in the clean, pure air. Close by, she knew, Alex would be sweating away in the kitchens, cooking up some magical storm of food, and on the other side of campus she knew Evy would be entranced in learning ancient magical elements and the ways she could manipulate them.

Using a mortar and pestle, Florence crushed the tiny scarab beetle and brushed away the crushed shell and skeleton to reveal a tiny purple jewel that glinted in the natural light. She placed it gently on a fine mesh sieve  and watched as the hot steam from her bubbling cauldron melted the gem down until it was a thin, mesmerisingly shiny liquid that dripped into the cauldron. The second the last droplet hit the steaming surface, her potion turned a bright scarlet.
Potions was all about balance and precision, Florence knew. A single wrong turn, a mistake or a blunder could ruin a potion forever. So she took care, and as a result found a therapeutic  and enjoyable activity in potion making.
She looked around the classroom, noting that Rosalie's and a few others potions looked the same as hers, but some were unusual colours and a few were hissing horribly. One poor boy that Florence recognised from Estrella was sweating profusely and she watched as a drop of his sweat dripped into the potion, turning it into a toxic green colour that no Dream Numbing Draught should ever become. Still wincing as he miserably vanished his potion, she ladled her own draught into a crystal vial, and brought it to the front of the class for testing.

On Saturdays and Sunday's, a train took students to the nearby village, Geme. Similar to other magical places, it had a muggle exterior that cleverly concealed the magical streets within. Jumping off the steam train at the station, all anyone was talking about was the upcoming dance, and everyone seemed to be in a hurry to find the most trendy and beautiful dress robes. Similarly so, once Florence, Evy and Alex had slipped past the bronze statue that discreetly ushered them through its outstretched arms, they saw that the streets were absolutely bursting with people.

Geme was lined with what used to be tiny, stone cottages that had now been built on, expanded and magicked until they were tall, busy and colourful stores. Where one boasted an array of shimmering fabrics and feathered hats, another was small and overgrown with toadstools and poison ivy. Each flaunted it's own array of magical goods and wares, and Florence, armed with a humongous whipped ice cream in one hand, and a purse jingling with knuts and sickles in the other, felt slightly overwhelmed. She first ducked into the Potions store to replenish her ingredients and then followed Alex and Evy into the pet menagerie. Alex was attempting to purchase special owl pellets for her owl, Iris, who's tawny wings had been spotting with purple feathers recently, but the negotiating was taking a while and Florence was ever increasingly aware of the cracks in the cages and terrariums which held an array of bizarre creatures.
"Let's wait outside," she mumbled to Evy, who nodded keenly.
They both soaked in the clean air for a moment, before Florence had a thought. 
"Why don't you have an owl?" She asked curiously.
"Why don't you?" Evy shot back. Maybe she thought she had been to aggressive with her answer, so she continued.
"I don't need one. They're a pain to take care of and I don't really have any need to write to my family." She brightened. "Speaking of, my parents are going to be away these holidays, and I thought that I would stay at the castle. I know you usually do, and I..."
She was interrupted by Alex, who was babbling happily about the price she had got the medicine for, but Florence squeezed Evy's hand as a way of letting her know that she was glad, and they went off down the street in a cheerful buzz.
The rest of the day went by as though it were a blur. In Valentina Jenkins Robes for All Occasions, Evy got a new corset and skirt fitted, Alex a whole new set of dress robes for she was growing at the speed of a shrivelfig, and at Magical Beauty for All Ages, Genders and Species store, Florence finally bought the set of magical heat rollers that she had been saving up for months. Purses feeling considerably lighter, they joined a clump of school friends on the roof of a cafe and watched the sun sink down on the sky.