With Neville in the Greenhouses

‘And this,’ Neville said, holding up a small pot, ‘is a Fanged Geranium,’ he gestured towards the contents of the pot. You peered in, and could see a small, red flower. At the stem grew several leaves which reddened in the middle. What was most intriguing however, was the set of sharp teeth at the centre of the flower. The plant seemed to be looking around, obviously quite peeved that it’d been disturbed. You looked back up at Neville, who’d been glancing between you and the plant. You were both stood in the warm but breezy Greenhouse One, you leaning against the rack of plants and Neville standing almost soldierly opposite you.
‘Well that one’s very good,’ you said, encouragingly, not sure what else to say about the ferocious looking plant. Neville places the pot back in the spot of sun where it had been before, and the flower seemed to instantly relax once more.
‘You know about Mimbulus Mimbletonia ... ‘ he muttered under his breath, scanning the trays of plants. ‘Blue Horn Burr ... Oh, look, Glassweed,’ he said, lifting a tray with what looked like tiny glass pineapples on stalks.
‘There’s a whole myth around these, it’s all in my Herbology book. Y-you can borrow it - I forgot we had this, it’s usually found in America but I think it’s probably grown here for the hospitals, quite useful in medicine.’ He said, not taking his eyes off the plant.
‘Blimey,’ you said, watching the stalks squiggle about like snakes.
‘I know. What’s your favourite?’ Neville asked nervously, returning the plant to its shelf. You thought back to the many plants he’d shown you in the past hour, not really being able to get a clear picture of any.
‘I quite liked the biting one,’ you said after a pause, and Neville grinned toothily.
‘Yeah, me too. But look,’ he said, hastily, rolling up his jumper sleeve so that it was no longer covering his hand. A small but painful looking bitemark was visible on the back of his left hand, and you quickly seized his hand without thinking.
‘Bloody hell, Nev, from that little plant?’ But Neville had flushed almost as red as the flower itself, eyes wide. There was an awkward pause.
‘Yeah, y-you wouldn’t think it, would you? A-and that one’s only a baby.’ He finally said.

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