Seeds of Romance? (Annabelle)

[Martin Bishop]

Saturday morning, Dec. 17, 2005

After their encounter in the library, Martin and Annabelle had approached Professor Fah and gotten her approval to proceed with their extracurricular project.

Greenhouse eight was special. It was partitioned into several zones, and through the clever use of charms and rune-stones, each zone maintained a distinct climate year-round. There was even a magical lighting system to provide a reasonable analogue to natural sunlight. Pipes distributed appropriate amounts of water at timed intervals (controlled by runes), simulating rain. The setup was a boon for growing magical plants not indigenous to Great Britain, particularly those that could be processed into ingredients for essential potions used either in the hospital wing or at St. Mungo's. Small apothecaries would likely have similar setups, but nowhere near as large or elaborate.

Martin was on his knees in front of a planter box in the zone most similar to the Tibetan climate, where the species urtica torpens pertinax was native. He was using a trowel to carefully mix fertilizer into the soil. In a moment, they'd be ready to plant seeds, spaced seven inches apart, so the plants' roots wouldn't get too entangled or compete for limited nutrients.

This species' nettles were valued because they contained a mild neurotoxin that could be used as an anesthetic, however each plant would only yield enough for a single dose. Martin and Annabelle hoped to cross-breed the plant to increase its yield (either in nettle size or number of nettles), and also to make it easier to grow in the British climate.

But first, they needed as many seeds to germinate as possible.

Beside Martin there were seed packets (owl-ordered), sacks of fertilizer and peat moss, and some basic gardening tools, including gloves which would be needed to handle the seeds, as they were spiky. He'd unintentionally tracked some snow in from outside, which was now melting.

"All right, I think the soil's ready," Martin said after much preparation. He was glad he'd worn his herbology apron to keep his trousers clean.

As he turned to look at Annabelle, a shaft of early-morning light from a window was illuminating the features of her face. He'd always been introverted, and had never been inclined to date anyone before, but in that moment he had to admit that she bore a certain natural attractiveness that, combined with her energetic personality, really appealed to him. He was aware of the upcoming dance, but had previously brushed it off. Now, though, he was forced to reconsider...

It was a quiet moment and they were alone. If he was going to ask, now seemed like a good time, as it was only a few days away.

"Are you planning to attend the dance?", he broached, trying not to get his hopes too high. Best to find out if she already had a date first...