White Heather for Protection

Teenage Woes

Hadrian sagged in relief when the Incarcerous was lifted. Groaning, he stretched his stiff limbs and then sprawled bonelessly across the floor. Anguis slithered up to him from where she had been sunning herself.

{Are you finissshed with your odd two-legged gamesss yet?} the taipan hissed in question.

He sighed. {We're not playing gamesss, Anguisss. Heather hasss gone mad sssince ssshe found out Ssslytherin'sss Monssster isss a basssilisssk.}

The snake coiled her body and tilted her head in confusion. {That isss why your nessst mate isss torturing you? Ssshe hasss lossst her sssanity?}

{Ssshe might asss well be,} Hadrian whined, {Ssshe isss training me to defend myssself. Tied up and wandlesss.}

Relaxing now that that her master was not in danger from insane nest mates, Anguis curled up on her warm rock again. {That isss very wissse of the Sssly One, not crazy at all,} she commented, {I do not underssstand your frussstration.}

"Rian! Stop complaining to Anguis; I can hear you perfectly. You only have three more minutes of rest," his sister reminded.

He sighed once more in exasperation. Really, he was grateful that Heather put in all this effort, but she could be rather over-the-top sometimes. He had already learnt all these spells days ago - now she just wanted to drill him. Again and again.

~~~

Staring at the strange offerings, Heather gave a tentative smile. They weren't any variety of flower she knew, with their oddly human faces where their centres should have been. Fred's was a white daisy-like flower while George's reminded her of a red rose.

"That's not all!" Fred said proudly.

"Watch this!" George declared, stroking his flower gently.

To her perturbed amazement, the plant began to sing.

~You charmed the heart right out of me

Don't need no broom, I'm flying free

I think by now it's plain to see

I'm nothing without you~

It was really bizarre to hear the strains of Celestina Warbeck's song coming from the tiny flower. In George's tenor.

"I didn't know you could sing so well," was all Heather could say.

Fred scoffed and pushed his pot forward. "That's nothing. Watch this!" Then Fred's flower opened its mouth (?) and recited passionately:

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies

"That's Byron, isn't it? You know muggle poetry?" Heather asked, putting aside the sudden romantic gestures for now. They would explain themselves eventually.

Fred shrugged. "Found it in one of Dad's books." Arthur Weasley was inordinately curious about all things muggle.

"So..." Heather trailed off leadingly, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, right!"

"Forgot the most important part!"

They bowed gallantly and tipped their imaginary top hats. "Happy Valentines' Day, m'lady!" they exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of the nearby breakfasters.