HIS CHOSEN GIRL [MAJOR EDITING/REWRITING]

second year ➤mandrakes

HIS CHOSEN GIRL
chapter thirty one-mandrakes
[Harry's P.O.V]
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I arrive at the greenhouse with my face involuntarily flushed and my cheeks red. I guess I had forgotten just how affected or easily embarrassed I can get when my feelings for
(y/n) are acknowledged. I've really gotta learn to control my feelings around her, at least until I know for certain that she feels the same.

Ron scans me curiously as I stand beside him. "We left you two alone for maybe three minutes, what happened?"

I look to the other side of the room to see Malfoy staring at me, waiting for me to look at him before he lifts his hand to his mouth and pretends to snog the back of it. I scowl at him then turn back to Ron. "Nothing. Malfoy's just a proper git."

Ron nods, as if the fact is obvious which, I suppose, it is. "Not exactly news, mate."

Professor Sprout waddles into the room signifying that class has begun, not that anyone makes any effort to stop their conversations or provide her with attention. "Morning everyone!" She exclaims cheerfully. Still, most people ignore her to which she frowns and hit a shovel on a nearby flower pot. The smile once again returns to her face when the classroom of students stand quietly, ready to learn. "Good morning everyone!"

"Good morning Professor Sprout," we recite immediately.

"Welcome to Greenhouse Tree, second years. Now, gather 'round, everyone," we take a step closer to the large table in the middle of the room. There's many potted plants on the table, one for each of us it seems. "Today, we're going to re-pot Mandrakes. Who here can tell me the properties of the Mandrake root?" She asks as she carries a pot with a green plant in it, identical to the ones on the table in front of each of us.

Hermione raises her hand immediately as if the answer to this question is obvious which to her, at least, I suppose it is.

"Yes, Miss Granger."

"Mandrake or Mandragora, is used to return those who have been petrified to their original state. It's also quite dangerous. The Mandrake's cry is fatal to anyone who hears it," Hermione says.

Professor Sprout smiles satisfied with her answer. "Excellent. 10 points to Gryffindor."

I, along with most of the other Gryffindors give her a smile and it's moments like these I remember how proud I am to have Hermione as a friend. Professor Sprout clears her throat after allowing Hermione to have her moment before she speaks again. "Now, as our Mandrakes are still only seedlings, their cries won't kill you yet, but they could knock you out for several hours, which is why I've given each of you a pair of earmuffs for auditory protection. So could you please put them on right away.. quickly. Make sure the flaps are tight down! And watch me closely. You grasp your Mandrake firmly... you pull it sharply up out of the pot..."

A dreadful, piercing, high pitched scream fills the room and I throw my hands over my earmuffs in attempts to block out the horrid sound.

"Got it?" Professor Sprout asks as if it were a simple task. "And... now you dunk it down into the other pot... and pour a little sprinkling of soul to keep him warm," from behind me, Neville begins stumbling around and his face grows pale. His eyes then roll back and he falls to the ground with a thud. Professor Sprout sighs. "Longbottom's been neglecting his earmuffs."

"No, ma'am," speaks up Seamus Finnegan staring at his friend on the floor. "He's just fainted."

"Yes, well, just leave him there," Proferssor Sprout shrugs. "Right, carrying on. Plenty of pots to go around. Grasp your Mandrake, and pull it up!"

I hesitantly grab hold of the plant and exchange an unconvinced glance with Ron before the two of us rip the plants up and out of its pot. I wince as, on cue, the mandrakes begin shrieking the volume only increasing as more and more students complete the task.

I look around, to see how others are doing with their mandrakes. I look just in time to see Draco staring curiously at his plant, poking its mouth which suddenly snaps shut around his finger and the blond boy visibly panics, trying frantically to pull it out. Good, serves him right. (y/n)'s doing no better. Her mandrake is going utterly insane. It's swinging around, trying to wriggle out of her grasp. She roughly thrusts it into its pot before throwing a fistful of dirt on it and then allowing herself to catch her breath.

I plant my plant mediocrely at best before aiding Ron in his own work. We work and learn more about mandrakes for the remainder of the class before we're finally dismissed and make our way to our next class.

-

"I can't bear potions," groans (y/n) as she drops her books and sits down at our table.

Admittedly, the first morning of classes has dragged on for quite awhile. We've had Herbology followed by Transfiguration then Potions. Potions, naturally, is my least favourite. Finally though, we've made it through the morning and have begun our lunch break. Hermione's already studying although what exactly one could be studying on the first day of classes is beyond me. Ron's attempting to fix his broken wand with scotch tape, best of luck to him on that one. (y/n) and I are the only relatively normal ones I swear.

"There isn't a witch or wizard in Gryffindor who doesn't hate potions," I reply to her as she tosses me her apple.

She nods surely. "So, are you excited for Quidditch?"

"So excited. It's felt like forever since I've been flying. The Dursleys wouldn't so much as allow me to look at my broom," I complain.

She laughs. "Well that's extremely unfortunate but do you know what I've decided?"

"What?" I ask.

"I'm going to be your personal good luck charm," she says casually.

I can't help the smile on my face at her words. "Is that what you've decided?"

"Yes," she confirms. "Long as I'm there you're sure to win the game."

"Sadly for you, I've got a good luck charm already," I inform her, reaching into my pocket. "Here."

I pull out a crystal. Not any normal crystal though, it's an enchanted crystal that (y/n) had given me last Christmas. The crystal has got a spell on it that causes it to change colors when you and the person of whom you've got the most of a connection with are thinking of each other. I found out rather easily that for me this person was (y/n) and by the way it changes to pink so often when we're together, I've figured out that the connection is mutual.

(y/n) snatches the crystal out of my hand greedily. "No way you carry this around!" She exclaims staring at it admiringly.

"It's my good luck charm," I repeat.

She smiles, hanging onto the crystal for a moment or two before eventually returning to her lunch and handing it back to me. Right before I place it back in my pocket though, the crystal turns pink.

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