Wilted with Worry :: Fiona

Walking into the greenhouse usually brought her peace.

Today, not so much.

It was the same as every other year. Weeds to pull. Potion ingredients to harvest. Plants to treat. Seeds to sow. Usually she couldn't wait to get her hands in the dirt. Today she wanted to scratch her name off the Hospital Wing signup sheet and crawl back into the Gryffindor common room to sulk.

"Ugggggh!"

This was her last year at Hogwarts, and she couldn't find it in herself to care.

The expectations were still there. Good grades. Pass her NEWTs. Be the perfect representative of both the Nordstrom and Zdravkova families. A year ago she would've rolled her eyes, muttered something rude under her breath, and done whatever she wanted anyway.

Now... Now it wasn't so simple.

She had a headache from trying to sort through everything rattling around inside her mind.

The etiquette course had changed more than she'd ever expected. It wasn't just which fork to use or how to greet a duchess without embarrassing herself. It was a whole new way of thinking. A thousand little expectations she'd never noticed before.

The worst part? Some of it had actually been... Fun.

She grimaced.

Not that she'd ever admit that aloud.

Then there had been the garden party. Beautiful weather. Beautiful decorations. Wonderful food. Everything had been perfect. Until Liliya had casually informed her that after the wedding she wouldn't be moving into a house somewhere with Drago.

She'd be moving into Harewood House. She hadn't even realized she'd been carrying that dream until someone took it away.

A little house. A garden. Just her... and Drago. Maybe children one day.

Much, much later.

Instead she'd be living under Oleg's roof. The thought still made her stomach twist.

Her outburst hadn't gone over well. Oleg had made certain she understood exactly what was expected of her. Ever since then, everything had felt... dark.

The excitement she'd finally started feeling about marrying Drago had become tinged with fear. It was easier when he was standing beside her. He somehow made all of it seem manageable. But he wasn't here now. He'd graduated. There would be no persistent Russian finding her in the greenhouse.

And Hogwarts now felt emptier without him.

sigh

A sound behind her pulled Matilda from her thoughts. Blinking, she turned toward the greenhouse entrance, forcing herself back into the present. A small smile finally appeared.

"Hey there." She brushed the dirt from her hands onto her apron. "Here to help me get this place back into shape?"

Despite being sorted into a house that Fiona felt didn’t understand her (no matter how much her mother glowed upon seeing her in the common room), she was relieved to finally be a student. Her peers – the ones she’d been watching for the past few years – were being kind enough to her, though there were a handful who had already begun teasing. It was the Blackwood name. If she was still a Byrne, it’d be fine. But, oh well.

Fiona signed up for the Hospital Wing. She didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life – she was only eleven after all – but had always found healing interesting. Her mother hadn’t worked in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing for long, but when she did she enjoyed watching this side of magic.

Trying to figure out which part of magical healing interested her, Fiona wandered through the whole Wing. She could do patient care, she thought, but also dealing with the negative side effects of magic and the potential seriousness of injuries scared her.

Yes, scared her. She wouldn’t admit to it though.

Deciding to look at another part, she made her way to the Greenhouses. She could see red hair inside before she even entered, and could list the names of students who the hair may belong to before spotting it was Tilly.

"Hey there. Here to help me get this place back into shape?"

Fiona froze. She looked down at her dress, one she didn’t necessarily want to get messy, before looking back at the seventh year. “Um…” she said, hesitating before finally letting the door drop shut behind her. She could have left, but the smell of dirt in the air was oddly comforting.

“Okay…” she said, her blue eyes searching the room for something to protect her dress with. The aprons were hanging up, so she retrieved one and slipped it over her head before making her way back to Tilly.

She’d never gotten her hands dirty like this before. “What… do I do?”

Seeing little Fiona walk into the greenhouse brought a smile to her face. She was growing up to be such a beautiful young woman. Which was weird to say…

Meeting her a few years prior as a cute tag along to Professor Bryne, it was strange to see her in Hogwarts robes.

“Um… Okay…” Tilly watched as she put on an apron and got her dress covered, then came over to where she was standing. Looking down at the plants in front of her, Tilly took a pair of gloves out of her apron and handed them to Fiona.

“What… do I do?” Looking at the plants laid out in front of her, she decided to start simple. There was a lot to get done, but weeding was a good place to start with a newbie.

”First, put on the gloves. Until you know what plants are safe, always wear gloves.”

Setting a bad example, she did not put on gloves, but to be fair, she knew every plant in the greenhouse and which ones would cause skin irritation. Fiona, did not.

”Next, we’re going to work on weeding. It’s not the funist task, but it’s important. If we don’t pull the weeds, they take over and can pull nutrients out of the soil that the plants need.”

Tilly went about showing Fiona which green leafy things were weeds and which were the plants that we wanted to save. Working with chamomile was pretty easy. The leaves and flowers were very easy to identify.

Working side by side, they worked in silence for a few minutes before getting to know her a bit better.

”So Miss Fiona. How are you feeling about the start of school? It has to be weird right? Getting sorted into a house. Starting classes. Having a new baby brother. You, my dear, have had a rather crazy year.”

”First, put on the gloves. Until you know what plants are safe, always wear gloves.”

Fiona accepted the huge gloves from Tilly, and put them on. But now she felt she wouldn’t be able to grip anything securely.

”Next, we’re going to work on weeding. It’s not the funnest task, but it’s important. If we don’t pull the weeds, they take over and can pull nutrients out of the soil that the plants need.”

She watched the older girl, glove-free, point out which growths were the actual plant and which were the weeds. She noted the pretty flowers and knew those were the ones they didn’t want to pull out of the soil.

Easy enough. It’d take a complete stupid-head to mess this up.

She went to work through the initial silence, before Tilly began speaking.

”So Miss Fiona. How are you feeling about the start of school? It has to be weird right? Getting sorted into a house. Starting classes. Having a new baby brother. You, my dear, have had a rather crazy year.”

She frowned, her eyes remaining trained on her task at hand. “I don’t see what the Hat was thinking putting me in Hufflepuff. I’m not a Hufflepuff. I am supposed to be a Slytherin,” she commented, her voice a bit stern.

She’d woken up hoping it had been a really bad dream. It wasn’t.

“Why does a stupid Hat even get to decide? It doesn’t know me.” She pulled out a weed and dropped it on the table.

“All Teddy does is cry and get told he’s cute and sweet.”

“I don’t see what the Hat was thinking putting me in Hufflepuff. I’m not a Hufflepuff. I am supposed to be a Slytherin.”

Matilda smiled at Fiona as she began to work… and complain.

It seemed that the little badger wasn’t happy with the hat’s decision. It was common with the first years, especially if they had any idea about the hat and houses. Tilly didn’t know much, her parents not explaining anything before coming to Hogwarts. So when the house said Gryffindor, she was just excited it didn’t cast her out into the night.

”It’s alright to be disappointed. It seems like half the castle is after the sort. I think it’s to be expected. I didn’t know anything about the sort or houses, so my experience was different.”

Tilly moved to another set of plants, they were working through the weeds well. She didn’t want to fill the silence, letting Fiona think while letting her bring up things she may want to talk about.

But Matilda being quiet was never easy.

”I know how you feel though. Sometimes we build a picture in our heads of how something is supposed to happen. When it doesn’t…”

She smiled sympathetically, thinking about her own situation. The dream of her and Drago living in a home, by themselves. Raising a family… laughter, love, dancing in the kitchen, building a life. That dream was ruined over the summer when she learned they would be living at Harewood House after they married.

The thought of living with Oleg made her stomach clench with nerves.

"...it takes a while to let go of that picture."

“Why does a stupid Hat even get to decide? It doesn’t know me.”

Matilda smiled, but kept in the chuckle. Fiona probably wouldn’t appreciate that. ”Yeah, once I found out what Gryffindor was all about, I thought the hat was an idiot. I never saw myself as brave or fearless. Now, seven years later, I get it. I can’t see myself anywhere else.”

Tilly stopped, resting her hip against the table, looking at Fiona. ”What is it about Slytherin? Why do you think you belong there over Hufflepuff?”

“What is it about Slytherin? Why do you think you belong there over Hufflepuff?”

Fiona was quiet for a moment, still pulling weeds, considering the question seriously because it deserved a serious answer.

She didn’t want to yell out because she didn’t want to be near her mum, or anything like that. She was now a Hogwarts student and wanted to act older.

“Slytherins are clever,” she said finally. “And tough. They don’t… they don’t let people see when things bother them.”

Fiona dropped a weed on the pile, then pulled another with slightly more force than was necessary, and a little bit of soil scattered across the table.

“They know how to read people and they’re not… they’re not soft.”

The word ‘soft’ came out almost like it tasted bad in her mouth.

“Hufflepuffs are nice,” she added after a moment, and the way she said it made ‘nice’ sound like the worst thing you could possibly be. “Everyone’s always saying how nice Hufflepuffs are. And loyal. And hardworking.” She paused. “Those aren’t interesting things to be.”

Fiona pulled another weed without looking up.

“Also my dad is head of Slytherin,” she added, very quietly, almost as if she was brushing it under the rug when really that was the honest truth about it. The most important fact was that she would rather be with her father than her mother.

Matilda nodded slowly, listening while she talked. Fiona wasn't wrong. Slytherins were clever. They were resilient. There was nothing wrong with wanting to have those qualities.

She pulled another weed free before speaking.

"Those are all wonderful qualities." She smiled at Fiona.

"I've known a lot of Slytherins over the years. Some of my favourite people are Slytherins."

Rae. Ren. Evan. Professor Blackwood.

She could have gone on. "They're ambitious, always thinking three steps ahead, determined, resourceful. Nothing wrong with that at all.” Matilda brushed a little dirt from the table with the back of her hand.

"But I think Hufflepuff gets misunderstood."

Looking down at the chamomile, she pulled a few weeds that were hiding under the leaves. "People hear kind and think weak. They are not the same thing."

The weeds came free finally, allowing Tilly to toss them in the weed bucket. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of their conversation. It was hard to be somewhere you didn’t feel like you belonged, she just hoped Fiona took some of the things she said to heart.

"It's easy to be kind when everything is going your way. It's a lot harder to choose kindness when you're hurt... or angry…”

Her attention moved back to Fiona. A small smile. "And loyalty? There is nothing better than knowing your friends will stand by your side through thick and thin.”

She thought about Benji. About Maevie. About Alice. People who had done exactly that.

"As for hardworking… Try keeping up with a Hufflepuff for a week. Just look at your mom. She’s a Professor, house head, running Quidditch, a mom and an advisor. She’s helped me a lot over the last year with some issues I’ve had. I don’t know what I’d do without her. Hardworking isn’t a negative. It just shows how dedicated they are to what they love.”

At the mention of Professor Blackwood, Matilda nodded knowingly. "I think that's part of it, isn't it? You wanted to be where your dad is. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. He’s a great man, even if he calls me Mathelda all the time.” She laughed.

When Professor Blackwood came to the castle, no one knew what he would be like, but as it turned out, she had a good relationship with the man. As long as she kept him supplied with muffins.

Matilda stopped pulling weeds completely, looking down at Fiona. Crossing her arms over her chest, she considered something quietly before speaking. ”I’m not sure if you know this or not, but your dad was the Hufflepuff Head of House before you came to the castle. It was only for a year, but he was very protective and dedicated to the house. He was Slytherin when he was a student, but never made the badgers feel unwanted.”

She smiled, letting what she said linger in the air. ”He knows both houses probably better than anyone. I don’t think he would have spent that much time and energy on a house that he saw as just ordinary.”

Focusing again on the flowers, so that Fiona could think without eyes staring at her, she left her with one more thing to think about. "You don't have to love Hufflepuff today. Or next week. Or even by Christmas." She shrugged lightly. ”But if I were you, I would try and give them a chance. Hang out with your housemates. Spend time in the common room. You might realize that a lot better than people give it credit for.”

Fiona listened while Tilly talked, still pulling weeds, though slower now.

The bit about kindness not being the same as weakness she filed away somewhere without responding to it. And the loyalty bit. She thought about Lace on the train, and Maevie in the common room last night with the jelly slugs. Maybe.

But then Tilly mentioned her mum. That she’d helped her. That she didn’t know what she’d do without her.

Fiona went quiet. She kept her eyes on the chamomile and pulled a weed, but not deep enough so the root stayed put. She picked at the dirt where it had been.

Her mum helped everyone. That was just what the woman did: she helped and she healed and she looked after people. Fiona knew that. She’d always known that. It was one of the things she loved about her.

It was just that lately, when she tried to find her place in the queue, there were a lot of people ahead of her. Teddy. The students. Her father. The whole of Hufflepuff house, apparently.

She didn’t say any of that.

“Your dad was the Hufflepuff Head of House before you came to the castle.”

She hadn’t thought about that. Not like this, anyway. She remembered that year: it was highlighted by the carnival where the bad things happened. She still didn’t fully understand what it was that happened, but she knew it was really bad. But she hadn’t put it together like Tilly was now.

“Maybe I’ll try,” she said finally, which was about as much as she was willing to give.

Fiona dropped a weed on the pile and looked around the greenhouse properly for the first time, taking in the rows of plants and the smell of soil and something green underneath it all that she didn’t have a word for but liked.

“I signed up to help in the Wing,” she said, almost to herself. “I didn’t really know what a Greenhouse Attendant did until now.” She looked down at her gloved hands, which had actual dirt on them. “Is it always just weeding?”

Matilda laughed softly, tossing another handful of weeds into the bucket. "Merlin, No." Letting her eyes drift around the greenhouse, a warmth spread over the seventh year.

She truly loved the greenhouse. The smell, the humid air, the feeling of life when working with the plants. Even the mundane tasks brought her joy.

"If all we did was weed, I'd have quit years ago." Reaching over, she pinched one of the chamomile flowers between her fingers, popping it off the stem.

Matilda wiped her hands on her apron, then popped up on the workbench, looking at Fiona. Weeding could wait a few minutes. ”Yes, this is the greenhouse, but you have to think of it like a hospital. The patients just can’t tell you what hurts. Some plants are sick, or hungry, some are drowning in too much water while others don’t have enough. Some need to be pruned, or their pots are too small, need to be harvested or are about ready to bolt so we can harvest the seeds.”

The greenhouse was a living breathing place that needed to be treated as such. It wasn’t like the apothecary where ingredients are stored and potions made. If no one tends to the apothecary, nothing dies.

If the greenhouse is ignored for a period of time, a lot can change. She carefully popped another blossom, dropping it into a small basket.

"There are plants that scream when you disturb them, plants that bite, plants that can put you to sleep, plants that can save your life, and plants that can do both depending on how you use them."

Looking over at Fiona, she grinned. "Weeding just happens to be the least exciting part."
Matilda laughed, thinking of all the boring tasks. Honestly, the greenhouse was rarely exciting, but that was something she loved. It was soothing. Almost meditative.

"I like the greenhouse, the plants just… are. They don’t pretend. People are much harder to figure out."

Her eyes tracked the first year, watching as she pulled out a weed, but the roots staying in the dirt. "You know… I think you'd be rather good at this. You've been watching everything since you walked in. You ask questions before you jump in. Most first years would've yanked out half the chamomile by now."

A teasing smile tugged at her lips. "You've only almost done that once."

"I like the greenhouse, the plants just… are. They don’t pretend. People are much harder to figure out."

Fiona looked down at the plant she was working on, tilting her head slightly.

"You know… I think you'd be rather good at this. You've been watching everything since you walked in. You ask questions before you jump in. Most first years would've yanked out half the chamomile by now. You've only almost done that once."

“Oh…” Fiona said. She hadn’t meant to say it. It just came out.

She looked at the chamomile in front of her, really looked at it this time, the small white flowers and the feathery green leaves and the way it just sat there in the soil being exactly what it was without any effort at all.

Fiona pulled a weed carefully, making sure to get the root this time.

“I think I like it here,” she said, quietly, like she was still deciding if it was true as she said it. “In the greenhouse, I mean.”

She didn’t say the rest of it. She didn’t say that this was the first place at Hogwarts that didn’t make her feel like she had to be anything in particular. But she thought maybe Tilly already knew that.

Surprised by herself, Fiona withdrew a bit. She glanced at Tilly, then back at the plant.

“I think I like it here. In the greenhouse, I mean.”

Tilly smiled at the small girl. She was obviously having trouble finding where she belonged in the castle. Not liking her house was difficult. Her house was her home at Hogwarts.

Fiona, on the other hand, was in a unique situation. She had multiple houses within the castle walls. Hufflepuff, her mom’s sleeping quarters, as well as her dads.

”Well, I’m glad you like it. I won’t be around next term, so someone will need to take over here. Lots of people come in here to work, but it needs someone who truly loves the plants and wants to keep them healthy.”

Very few people truly knew what she did in the greenhouses. Not just the one in the hospital wing, but the castle greenhouses as well. Tilly spent hours upon hours working the soil, pulling out weeds, keeping everything healthy and growing.

The fate of the greenhouse worried her. Would all the plants die without her? No, probably not. But she had a sick feeling that they wouldn’t be nearly as prosperous. If Fiona truly liked what they were doing, maybe Tilly could teach her.

Not everything she knew, but enough to keep everything running.

”If you really like it. I’d be happy to teach you things. It might be nice to have a place you can come that’s just yours. Not your mom’s or your dad’s.”

Fiona looked up at Tilly.

"It might be nice to have a place you can come that's just yours. Not your mom's or your dad's."

She hadn’t expected that. She didn’t have a response ready, which was kind of unusual for her. Fiona was usually pretty good at having responses ready.

She looked back down at the chamomile for a moment, then back up at the seventh year.

“I’d like that,” she said. “If you’d teach me.”

She meant it in a way she found totally unexpected. Not just the plants, though she did want to learn the plants. But the idea of having something that was only hers, that didn’t belong to either of her parents or the Hufflepuff or to the Blackwood name. Something she’d earned herself, in a greenhouse that smelled like soil and green things, and didn’t ask her to be anything in particular.

She pulled a weed with a different kind of careful now, all the way to the root this time.

“I’ll make sure nothing dies when you’re gone,” she said, very seriously. “I promise.”

“I’d like that,” she said. “If you’d teach me.”

Tilly smiled. Leaving Hogwarts at the end of the term had weighed on her. She had made the castle her home, and by extension the greenhouses. The plants were there for her when past relationships failed.

They kept her grounded.

Deep down she worried about the greenhouses and who would care for them after she left. Ultimately, she knew everything would be fine, but no one cared for the plants like she did.

”I would love to teach you. It’s not nearly as hard as people think.”

How she would go about teaching Fiona quickly started running through her head. Where to start, what the important things were, what was needed and what was just her insanely detailed mind wanting to impart knowledge on the next generation.

“I’ll make sure nothing dies when you’re gone, I promise.” Fiona said seriously. Which made Tilly laugh.

”Plants will die. There is no way around it, but once you learn the basics of how to care for them, it will be easier than you think.”

Looking around at the area they worked, Tilly was happy with the progress they had made. ”First lesson. There is always something to do in the greenhouse. I could work here 24/7 and never be done, so you need to figure out what the most important things are. I like making lists. I’ll walk around and write down everything that needs to be done. Then pick where to start.”

Tilly grabbed the list on the workbench. Multiple things were crossed off, but there were many more things that needed to be done. As always.

”I’ll look over the schedule and make sure our shifts line up for a while. If you’re here without me, just stick to stuff you already know. Don’t worry about learning things fast. We’ll have fun with it all over the term.”

Tilly was excited about the term now. Working with Fiona would give her something to focus on, other than missing Drago. She may be helping her find a place in the castle where she belonged, but Fiona wasn’t the only one that would benefit from the partnership.

And suddenly, things didn’t look quite so bleak.