Juniper strolled up and down the rows of plants in
her greenhouse. She made sure that each plant had exactly what it needed to
feel loved. She loved her plants the way some witches loved their pets, and it
made her happy to see them happy.

She stooped next to a slimy bushel of grey-green
Gillyweed, growing in the shade of a five-foot tall Valerian plant. She touched
the moderately alkaline soil she had potted it in, and felt that it was
entirely too dry for the water-loving plant. She watered it until she could
practically feel its relief, the water pooling around her thick, close-toed
boots.

Next, she cared for the neighboring Valerian. It
soaked up the sunbeams streaming in from the glass roof of the greenhouse,
thriving in the warmth and light of the sun. Its beautiful flowers made Juniper
feel at ease, and she checked to make sure that the strongly acidic soil she
had planted it in was not touching the alkaline soil of its neighbor. Satisfied
at the lack of cross-contamination, she tended to the towering behemoth in the
corner of the room.

Her Knotgrass was flourishing at a height of four
meters due to the amount of sunlight it had managed to soak up. She poured
water and Centaur tears directly in the soil she had planted it in, which was
neither too acidic, nor too alkaline. Still, she erred on the side of acid, and
was delighted to see her plant so well-nourished.

She sighed as she checked on the Dittany plant
growing next to the Knotgrass. The two plants had so much in common, from their
love of neutral soil to their need for intense sunlight. They even shared
water, as she simply allowed the run-off from the Knotgrass to water the
Dittany. Still, the Dittany was much less healthy-looking. It was functional,
and she kept it alive with Centaur tears. Still, it was such a persnickety
plant. She kept her greenhouse at the Dittany’s preferred temperature of 13
degrees Celsius, but it still refused to thrive as beautifully and as
wonderfully as the Knotgrass did.

She smiled sadly as she thought of the two plants.
They almost reminded her of herself and Delia. They were perfect together, and
had so much in common. But the poor little Dittany would never be as vivacious
or glamorous as the lovely Knotgrass.

Suddenly, Juniper was startled from her thoughts by
a tapping on the greenhouse door. It was Felicity!

That’s
odd,
thought Juniper. I spoke to Delia just
yesterday. Why would she write a letter to me now?

She left the greenhouse and read the letter attached
to Felicity’s leg.

Dear
Junie,

The
Minister is having a bit of a party for a bunch of people. There’s going to be
representatives from all different Departments and Offices. It’s just a bit of
fun, a business casual affair, and nothing to do with work.

Anyway,
the Minister said that everyone invited may bring a friend. So, what do you
say? Want to go to a Ministry party?

I
hope you do, Junie! It’s going to be so much fun! Besides, maybe you’ll get to
show all of those snooty Gardening Effect-types what an expert in your field
can really do!

With
Love,

Delia

Juniper could feel the blood rising to her cheeks.
What did Delia think she was doing? She knew how much Juniper hated crowds, and
how awkward she was at parties! Did she really want to give her such a
high-profile opportunity to make a fool out of herself?

Still, she knew how terribly disappointed Delia
would be if she refused to go. Reluctantly, she pulled a spare quill out of a
drawer in one of the tables in the greenhouse, and accepted the invitation.

Felicity flew off into the distance, and Juniper
could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Delia had named her own after that
luck potion, Felix Felicis, but Juniper couldn’t think of many less-lucky omens
at the moment. Not even the Grim would make her feel so terrified, and she
remembered how she had cried in her third year at Hogwarts, when Professor
Trelawney had insisted that the dog of evil omen was coming for her.

She knew that Delia had the best of intentions. She
wanted to show the world how important her friend was, how talented she was at
plants.

What
does it matter? Juniper thought sadly. It will still just look like boring old
gardening to them.

She looked at her beautiful greenhouse full of
plants. They were everything to her, and no one could ever understand that. No
one could understand the beauty of the plants, or the burning love she felt for
them. No amount of schmoozing at fancy Ministry parties would ever change that.