A few days later
Alice Longbottom sighed in relief, a weight lifting from her shoulder. Ever since Bellatrix's chilling words that day, she had been looking over her shoulder, wondering how The Black sister had gotten the whiff of Harry's rooming issues.
That French receptionist couldn't have spilled the beans as she had obliviated the girl the very next day. It wasn't a challenging task as the bint was too eager to get introduced to her godson.
Then how could Bella have known about the secret?
She almost tore their room after returning from the party, searching for any scrying charm or listening wards—but none of such things were there. For a moment she had even doubted Harry before slapping herself at the thought, remembering Harry was a lot more suave than she had guessed. Aptly proven by the way he had manhandled her that night.
In her panic, she hadn't even tried to get together with her godson. The thought that they were somehow monitored curbing her lust, spoiling all the fun that she wanted to have after their first night. Damn that Bellatrix for not divulging anything!
She wished Harry had taken charge again, pinning her down and having his way with her; but no such things happened, much to her chagrin. Her stud of a godson seemed to be in his own world for the last few days and that goofy smile of his… as if he had found the meaning of life by some miracle.
What teenager doesn't want to have sex with a willing bombshell like her? The thought made her snort. She could have initiated of course, but his starting would have given her plausible deniability if someone was watching their activities.
After all, what if her hunky godson lost his control after watching his poor, vulnerable godmother and wanted to sate his lust on her body? Wasn't it her duty to be a good godmother and take care of his needs, even if she had to put her body on the line? Having sex with your godchild wasn't even something unheard of… if anything, it was quite common in the Pureblood fraternity.
If only she didn't have to worry about the press hounding her every step and let her live worry-free…
The muggy weather of her beloved homeland greeted her and she could, like always, appreciate that there was no other place like home.
"Wait up, Nevile!" She turned around at Harry's shout. It seemed like not everyone was enjoying their homecoming. Wiping away the grimace from her face as her son stormed off after their portkey landing, Alice Longbottom had the unenviable job of explaining why her son was upset to his best friend.
First learning that the girl you were crushing has the hots for your godbrother, then losing to the same girl in front of thousands of onlookers quite badly… Maybe she should ask Harry to stay clear of her son for the time being.
"Harry, dear, maybe you should let Nevile calm down. Losing in such an embarrassing manner, when the entire wizarding world was watching…" Alice said, sighing at the reminder of the memory. "It can be quite challenging, especially for the first time."
"I get that, but he was avoiding me even before the match with Fleur." Harry said, a note of puzzlement entering his voice. "He even ignored my advice." Alice felt the slight anger that her godson was trying to hold back and failing. "I told him repeatedly not to use curses and charms, rather focus on wide area Aguamenties, then freeze the damn arena itself. Veelas become nearly helpless in such cases. But did he listen? NO! He tried to match her spell for a spell and embarrassed himself."
"As they can conjure fire wandlessly, water-based spells are considered to be ineffective against the Veelas." Alice pointed out, eyebrows raising as Harry got visibly frustrated at her stated facts. "That is a known fact."
"No, they aren't bloody ineffective, I know for a fact…" Her godson gulped, looking around the area, suddenly very uncomfortable. "I mean… somebody has to try something new and get away from the conventional wisdom."
"You seem pretty convinced your plan would have worked."
Harry shuffled, backpedaling unconsciously, raising an alarm in her mind.
"Well… I mean…no point in talking about the past, is it? We will never know if I was right." Harry laughed, rubbing his hair and messing them purposefully, a habit that he had inherited from James. However, James used to mess up his hair when he was nervous or lying to the teachers. What misdeeds was Harry trying to cover up?
"I should be going now, you know." Harry whiffled goodbye as he picked up his shrunken bag, perhaps noticing the suspicions written all over her face. "Mom will be mad if I dally anymore. I will talk with Nev later. Bye Aunty."
His voice started echoing even before he had completed his sentences, escaping from her presence like some of the petty criminals.
Alice watched her godson hightail out of her garden, eyes narrowed as a dozen questions arose in her mind, but the primary was—
What exactly are you hiding, Harry Potter?
Harry Potter meandered along the trees, hoping he had judged the distance of the apparition correctly. Jumping from the Orkney Islands to Caithness, Scotland wasn't easy—especially for someone doing their second intentional apparition. But after almost confessing what he had done at the party to his godmother, Harry would rather not stay in the presence of a known Auror. What could he even say about his momentary lapse in tact?
Watching Neville lose a match that should have been quite easy to win with his trick might have riled him more than he had thought earlier. Trying all those fancy charms and failing at that…
Not only he made a mess but also lost the chance to impress the girl he had been crushing pretty hard.
What crawled up Nev's ass, anyway? Harry could barely speculate.
The familiarity of the surroundings made Harry halt as he could see his family manor in the distance, the white gleaming marbles glistening against the late morning sun. The sight of his abode brought along the thought of the woman currently inside. His mom… the same woman that he had tried to make love with.
She was admittedly in disguise, but still… that was the woman that gave birth to him, of direct blood; not like the pseudo aunts that he had been dicking down over the summer.
Why did she allow it to happen? What was she even doing at the dueling championship?
The second answer came easily. She must have been worried about him, in a completely different land and among different people, and had probably gone there to look after him. What did he do in return? Tried to hook up with her.
It didn't matter that his mother was singularly one of the most attractive witches in the Isles. Or that he had some embarrassing dreams about her a few years ago after catching her changing inside her room.
Maybe that was why he was so attracted to Lisa in the first place. Perhaps he had been projecting his immoral lust for his mom to the woman who, in hindsight, appeared quite similar to her in looks and mannerisms.
Even now, being aware of her real identity, Harry would begrudgingly admit that given the choice between Appoline Delacour and his mother in her disguise, he would probably choose Lisa to spend time with. That admission only brought a healthy flush of shame into his cheeks.
Damn it, Harry! That is your mother you are thinking dirty about!
The same woman who had reared him like her most precious person after his father's unfortunate accident. His heart stopped. His father… the man he had only seen in his delirious state, cooped up inside the critical long-time care ward of the Saint Mungos—the man who was still alive.
Not only his amoral thoughts were a betrayal to his mom but also to his dad who sacrificed his sanity for his sake.
Harry had half a mind to search for someone to banish these memories out of his mind, maybe permanently like a powerful Obliviate. The only person that came to his mind was his godmother, but considering his relationship with her currently…
Why did he have to be so curious and ask for the memory reversal? If only he had no recollections of the day of the taboo and remained ignorant, then he could have only remembered Lisa as a passing flame and not the most important person of his life.
Harry firmed his mind, breathing circularly and casting away any unwanted thoughts.
Damn it, if only he had mastered Occlumency…
Still, the only good thing about it was that his mother was entirely unaware of his knowledge of her duplicity, so he could just act normal, and hopefully, the crisis would pass.
If only forgetting about his mom's drool-worthy body was so easy.
A small thing, though, niggled his mind. Why did his mother even allow him to do all the things that he did?
Better not tread on those dangerous thoughts.
Armed with his resolve to brush past the taboo as if it never happened, Harry Potter stalked toward his house, a tingle running up his spine as he crossed their formidable wards.
Walking inside the entrance hallways like it was his fiefdom, which it was, Harry hollered.
"Mom, I'm home!"
Only his echo rang for a few seconds, and no one responded.
Aunt Alice did send the letter informing their arrival, didn't she?
The continued silence only unnerved him. The lack of enthusiastic greetings, the norm even when she was neck-deep in her research just reminded him of the cataclysmic shift in their relationship, notwithstanding his denial.
Just as he was about to have a serious freak-out and contemplate whether he would have to come clean about his knowledge to her, Blinky appeared with a crack, bounding toward him and hugging him, just like his mom.
"Master Harry! Blinky is so happy to see you."
Harry felt her shuddering as he returned the hug, shaking his head ruefully. How could he have forgotten about his second mother here?
"Glad to be back as well, Blinky." Harry chuckled as she sprang from their embrace, flushing at her behavior. "Is mom at work? I hoped…"
Harry now felt foolish for making a mountain out of a mole. His mother was most probably at work and to think he was panicking about it. Calm down, Harry… mom was probably just ashamed of her behavior, no need to make it worse for her by being weird.
"Mistress rushed away a few hours ago after a letter came. Saying she had some urgent work to do," Blinky said, her bulbous nose twitching in an imitation of disgruntlement. "She didn't say when she will come back."
The tiny sigh of relief that escaped from his lips was thankfully well concealed. If Blinky got the idea that he was happy about his mom's absence, she would keep an even closer eye on him, thinking he might be up to no good. That was the last thing he wanted.
This will only give me a few more hours to prepare for the inevitable.
A comforting thought.
Harry looked at the grandfather clock, a line of worry forming on his forehead. It was well past nine and his mother had never been later than eight. Even that was just once, a few years ago where she had sent a letter in advance.
He couldn't just sit by and wait anymore. There was only one person who might be aware of the reason behind his mom's lateness. He wished he could remember the floo address of the Greengrass Potions lab, but unfortunately, the crunch memory eluded him. Still, not everything was lost.
After informing Blinky about his intentions, he pinched a small amount of floo powder and entered the emerald flames, swiftly whisking away to his intended location.
The dizzying feeling overwhelmed him, like always, but he powered through it, tumbling onto the rushing Persian rug of his destination. Barely brushing the soot and wincing internally at the choice of his attire, Harry Potter looked around the ornate sitting room. His eyes glided across the couches arranged at the left to the portraits of greeneries spread across, some species of herbs invoking insignificant memories of herbology classes.
"Hello! Anybody there!" Harry shouted, grimacing at the fact that he had to act such at this hour. But he couldn't very well just enter any further, especially as he had come without notice. Harry doubted he could even navigate the manor, considering he had come here just a handful of times and that was when he was half of his current height.
Greengrass manor was certainly intimidating to traverse, doubly so if one of its occupants thought of him as an intruder. He had no intention of becoming a guinea pig for their intruder wards. Better to remain here.
HELLO! LADY GREENGRASS!
Anastasia rubbed her fingers together, cursing the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated in her absence. Her impromptu holiday was unplanned, thus she had no one to blame but her for the sleepless night that she would have to endure. Her envy only increased at the thought of her companions; all of them living lavish, carefree lifestyles, not like her, organizing and maintaining a vast family business.
She huffed, blowing the locks away from her eyeline. Her braids had come undone.
She could feel her irritation rising, crankiness following her train of thought. It would be a lie to say that all of it was because of her impending work, when she could guess the main reason was probably something else. After all, seeing all of your well-made plans getting down the drain could be hardly described as a contented feeling. The vivid visuals that played across her mind's eye, along with the shame of getting caught in something so…hot, caused her to shift in her chair.
After her crime-in-partner somehow escaped with some lame excuse, Anastasia had been the main recipient of the other's ribbing; well until the newspaper's arrival the next morning. She blushed just thinking about the curses Narcissa spewed after it became clear that Bella had given them the slip.
She would give the lady Black her own piece of mind the next time they met. They were supposed to be working together toward a common goal, but if the images on the newspaper were to be believed, then that conniving whore had been all too eager to betray her and enjoy their collective fruit, on her own.
The way she was trying to burrow into Harry…As if she would have ridden him on the dance floor itself given the opportunity.
Only she remained a loser among the group, still playing with her fingers and toys, not the real thing that her other three companions had tasted. Lucky bitches.
Shaking her head, Anastasia doubled down on her work and cast away her jealous thoughts. It was easier said than done, though.
"Lady GreenGRASS…"
Huh! Was her ear deceiving her?
"Anyone there!"
That was certainly not a hallucination. The voice sounded male and the only male that could arrive at the time was her husband.
Did she miss his letter or something? Wasn't he somewhere in South America?
Just her luck that she would have to make up some lie to explain the stacks of paperwork that had accumulated. Couldn't he have come a few days later?
Wait, why is he shouting downstairs rather than coming up?
Her chair skidded as she stood up, wincing as her joint creaked like the hinge of some ancient door. She remembered sending their elves into different properties last week, strictly ordering them to not come back without her summon. Uggghhh! That would be hard to explain to her husband.
Tying her nightgown tightly around her midsection, Anastasia plastered a welcoming smile on her face as she glided down the flight of stairs.
"Daphne?… um…anyone?"
She was almost at the bottom of the staircase when a hesitant shout from the entrance hallway stopped her in her tracks.
That was certainly not her husband's voice. That sounded like…
Eyes widening she jumped down the rest of the stairs, racing across the hallway, hardly daring to believe the upswing in her luck.
Her braids undoing completely as she could feel her hair swinging behind her, Anastasia Greengrass stumbled to a halt inside the welcoming room of their manor, eyes searching for the wizard that had made her so unrestrained for the last couple of weeks.
"Harry?"
The elation that spread across her body at her friend's son's sight warmed her like a sip from the oak-matured mead, her fatigue evaporating within a heartbeat.
The memory of his last sight flashed across her vision—of his muscular body toying with a reputed Auror, breeding the blond like it was an everyday occurrence for him. She took in his current dress: a muscle shirt clinging to his body like a second skin, showing the thick forearms that she would like to be wrapped around her. And the low-hanging brown trousers that could devastate any marriage if they slipped any lower.
Wait… Did Bella send him here?
Maybe her friend had mentioned her name after getting her fill? Did she really keep her promise?
Now she felt bad for thinking of her as a traitorous bitch.
"Umm… Lady Greengrass…"
"Yeah?" Anastasia held her breath, anticipating him crossing the distance and manhandling her like another blond.
Damn! She should have worn something sexy! She hadn't even worn a bra inside her nightgown. Hmm…that may be for the best. Less clothing to get rid of.
"Do you know what my mom is doing so late?" Harry asked, yanking the carpet out of her daydreams. "She never works so late."
What!
Asking about Lily was the least likely thing she had anticipated the young wizard to do. Anastasia's disappointment was barely concealed as she struggled to gather her thoughts, her mind feeling like scrambled eggs.
She was aware it was late, considering her smarting fingers and taut shoulders, though she couldn't accurately pinpoint the exact time. Not that it would have helped her in the instant.
"Harry," she said, her voice tinged with confusion, "why did you assume I had any knowledge of your mother's whereabouts?" She asked, wondering if Lily had planned to meet her. "I have been out of the country for the last week…"
"Then can you check your workshop? Blinky was sure of mom being there."
Anastasia shook her head, not caring about whoever this Blinky person might be, before she almost slapped herself; remembering the smart-mouth elf suspicious of her at Potter Manor. It would have been nice to know the elf's name that day.
"Harry, dear, it will be of no use to check there. Trust me," Anastasia said, "considering Lily had taken a sabbatical from our company for the time being."
"What?"
"Yeah, I guess she forgot to mention it. It came as a surprise to me as well, the letter. But well, she has made herself available for any urgent projects, so I guess it's not that big of a deal."
"But…but what did she mean by leaving for work, then?"
Anastasia wasn't sure if she was the right person to break in the news of Lily's new occupation, but she was desperate to keep the wizard in her presence for as long as possible.
"That must be Hogwarts then." The Greengrass matriarch said, smirking at the gaping teen. "She is going to be the assistant Charms professor."
"She is replacing Professor Flitwick?" Harry mumbled, looking positively stunned. "Bloody hell!"
"She must have gone to get settled. It's not that far…the start of the new year." Anastasia guessed. After all, the teachers usually had to get to the premises early. "Do you want me to apparate you there?" She chimed in, sure of what his answer would be.
"No!" The vacant green eyes of Harry's filled with alarm as he shouted, backpedaling toward the fireplace. "No need for that. I umm… talk to her later." He gave a hesitant smile, bowing slightly. "Sorry for disturbing you, then. I will take my leave. Good night, Lady Greengrass."
"Now wait there, young man! You couldn't just come announced like that and depart so quickly." Anastasia glared at him, putting her hands on her hips.
"I can't?"
She withheld her smile as his Adam's apple bobbed.
"Yeah. You are going to have to stay for dinner and keep me company."
"I don't want to be a bother." Harry said, shaking his head after she smiled at him.
"Nonsense, dear. I was about to cook something for myself, anyway. And you wouldn't let a lady dine alone, would you?"
She closed the distance between them and took hold of his hand, pulling him inside with her.
Even though she had planned to finish all the paperwork with just gallons of coffee, the fresh change of plan barely flustered her. She seldom showed her culinary skills with the elves present, and impressing the young wizard only motivated her to show off.
Turned away from the Potter heir, she allowed a smirk to tug at her lips.
Harry Potter would not be going back home before lunch the next day, even if she had to tie him to her bed to make it happen.
Harry smiled nervously, digging into the feast she had conjured in barely half an hour. The smell was amazing, and it came as a surprise that the aristocratic blond could cook so well. His gaze spanned from the dishes to the woman sitting opposite him, noting the wet hair styled up in a loose bun, with her dark blond locks framing her gorgeous face. The beige dress of earlier seemed to have been exchanged for a midnight-black night suit, with the upper parts of the breasts constrained by floral mesh, creating a mesmerizing valley of cleavage.
The vision was so enchanting that even the Coq Au Vin and the Potato dauphin…daphne or whatever could not compete for his complete attention. It was almost like he was still in France.
"I hope you like these dishes. They are Astoria's favorite."
"Oh, yes. I mean, I have been eating these things for the last week or so. You know, I have been with Neville…" Harry made sure to talk to her eyes rather than her chest.
She gave him a smile that made his trousers feel like a few sizes too small, her lips curving up, showing straight white teeth. Two cute-looking dimples only enhanced her looks.
Harry glanced down at his plate, acutely remembering why he was so smitten with the woman's daughter for so many years.
For the next few minutes, the clunking cutlery was the only thing he focused on, the ambiance too much like a fancy date. Considering the witch sitting was happily married, that line of thinking was doomed for disappointment. It dawned on Harry, as he took his last bites, that he had encountered no one else aside from the older witch.
"Is no one here except us?" Harry asked, wincing when he realized he had purred the words. He gulped, looking at the Greengrass matriarch nervously.
Damn it, even after fucking so many women, he still wanted more, didn't he? He had turned into a right greedy bastard.
The blond sighed, pushing her plate away. "Daphne's visiting Tracey and Astoria is with her aunt." She shrugged, wiping her lips with the napkin. "And my husband… He barely stays with us nowadays. Always busy with his clients."
Before the absence of her husband invoked some dangerous ideas in his mind, Harry focused on the last morsels remaining on his plate. Hopefully, the deliciously cooked potatoes and chickens were going to divert his mind.
The quicker he could depart from the Greengrass manor, the better, especially as he could remember vividly the things that happened the last time he was alone with a beautiful blond in a large manor.
"Judging by your focus, you seem to really like my cooking," Anastasia teased. "I almost feared that I had lost my touch, you know? Without practice."
"They are bloody good!" Harry replied after swallowing, feeling like an arsehole for not properly complementing the blond for the food. "Even better than what I ate in France."
"Well, it seems like the potions skill bleeds through into cooking as well, doesn't it?" Anastasia said, forcing Harry out of his determination to avoid looking her way. "Skilled Potioneers are always handy in the kitchen."
Harry couldn't disagree; his mother, Aunt Molly, Aunt Andi, and now Lady Greengrass—all are perfect examples of the blond's conjecture.
"It's something worth remembering when you're choosing a girlfriend, don't you agree?" She giggled.
Harry choked, feeling something traveling down his windpipe. Did she really just say that?
Eyes watering and throat burning, he glared at the smirking woman, cursing the Greengrass family in his mind. First, her daughter tormented him for years with her beauty, now her…
His blurry eyes caught sight of the blond's posture with her hands splayed on the table, leaning forward. The night-suit-clad breasts of hers were heaved over the wood, causing a ridiculous amount of upper tit flesh to bulge over the mesh. With the pale glowing skin of her décolletage looking deliciously soft and the milky tit-flesh succulent enough to feast upon, Harry had the epiphany that staying here any longer would be a monumental test of his constraint. He could feel his sleepy cock rising rapidly as if it was only waiting for his subconscious to recognize that another blond witch was there for the taking.
Pushing the cutlery away, Harry jumped to his feet, clearing his throat. "Thanks for everything, Lady Greengrass. I should go." He avoided meeting her eyes, looking around the grand dining room.
He fidgeted as there was no response, wondering if it would be rude to dash from the room before his problem became obvious. The next words from the blond derailed that thought.
"Oh my! Is it hurting again… your condition?" Harry blanched as the blond gasped out loud. His face got tomato red when he saw her looking exactly at his groin, where Harry was mortified to realize that his trousers had tented over the table as if someone had pushed their hand through them. He stumbled back, taking hold of the bulge and angling it down the right leg of his pants.
"Please dear, don't be ashamed. Let me help you." Anastasia Greengrass cooed from the opposite side.
"No…no… It's alright." Harry said, wishing for the ground to split open and swallow him. He had truly forgotten that his mom had taken him to the blond for his medical checkup. Another thought pervaded his mind. She was already aware of what she had to work with, having held his junk in her hand that day. Should he accept her offer of help? Maybe things could escalate…in this mighty manor, in the absence of another single living soul.
No! Harry shook his head, banishing the thought from his mind. He had already provoked enough married witches into committing adultery. No need to take a bite of another cake. As sumptuous as it appeared.
"It will go down on its own, I promise," Harry said, inching toward the door, which he alarmingly noted was on the opposite side of him and he would have to cross the busty blond to reach there.
"There is no shame in this, Harry. Remember, I am a professional. It's nothing I haven't seen already."
No, you haven't seen anything like mine. Especially when it was primed to go inside some pussy. Harry snidely thought, contemplating shoving his now inflamed dick on her face.
"I'm sure of it. It will go down soon." Harry said, staring over the head of the blond who had stood up and placed herself in his path to freedom. "Look, it's already better."
"I see…" There was something ominous in the way she sighed at his refusal.
"Can I be excused then ma'am? I'm feeling full, what with your delicious cooking." Harry said, laughing forcefully. "Time for a nap, I guess."
"Of course, dear. It's already very late." Harry breathed a sigh of relief as she dropped her argument. He was a hair's breadth away from dropping his trousers. "But before you go, can you do me a single favor?"
Every pore of his body was screaming at him to say no, to be a dunce for once, and forget about basic manners. Chivalry was in the decline in the magical world, especially among young people, and nobody would have begrudged him for saying no at this hour. But what did he do?
"Of course, lady Greengrass, it would be my pleasure."
She gave him a smile as innocent and chaste as Daphne used to give him before their puberty. Before she hooked up with that blond bastard.
"That… you could be sure of."
Huh? What's with her smile?
"I apologize if they are a little tight; you are a lot bigger than my husband."
Harry grimaced, trying to understand the intent behind her words. Surely she realized how that sounded?
"No problem. I can manage with this." Harry said, holding up the dragonhead gloves.
"I would like to thank you again, Harry. I hope you realize what a big favor you are doing for me."
Harry kept his eyes ahead, nodding woodenly. He could hear the soft footsteps of the woman striding along with him, feel the rustle of that tiny black dress as she moved, and taste the deep pants she emitted, making an erotic art of mundane breathing. He had collared his unruly cock back into the slumber with a mighty effort and had no intention of staring at his companion and get a stiffy once again. Though the darkness of the night would probably cover for it.
At least the favor she had asked for was quite innocuous. Helping her collect the leaves of the moonbeam was hardly a chore. But wait, weren't those collected in the full moon?
"It's a special breed that can only be plucked at a certain day in the lunar cycle — today." Anastasia was all too happy to answer his query, donning her own dragonhide gloves. "Usually, I would have the elves help me, but with their absence…"
"It's alright." Harry shrugged. "I don't mind this."
"This way." She said, pacing ahead of him and steering him toward the middle greenhouse of the three separated ones. "They are in the most protected one."
Harry averted his eyes from her swinging arse, focusing on the garden path of the Greengrass family. Why was she still wearing such a skimpy dress? Harry thought about asking that before shelving the thought. He had already pitched his tent once in front of her, no point in implying that he had been focusing on her dress.
The Greengrass matriarch waved her wand and unlocked the door of the greenhouse; a few motes of bluebell flames flowed out of her wand and rose like fireflies above them, following and illuminating the otherwise dark, humid plant nursery. Harry followed them, especially the way they floated among the rows of what he could guess was the Chomping Cabbage. The scant light along with the periodic darkness cast an eerie spell along with the humid temperature that he realized was from an enchantment.
He followed her as she navigated the rows expertly, getting into the womb of the greenhouse where the most temperamental plants were usually kept. Even though he was quite good at potions, Herbology wasn't really his forte. Perhaps that's why most of the plants seemed entirely alien.
He jumped over a root that was creeping to his legs, narrowing his eyes at the nuisance. No wonder the Hogwarts greenhouses were warded so heavily for the night. With a last glare at what Harry thought was a waving branch, he turned around, gulping as his eyes met empty darkness. His guide had seemingly vanished ahead of the fork, while he was in a glaring contest with the plant. He scrambled ahead in a hurry, furiously looking at both sides after reaching the junction.
The glass roof of the greenhouse would have helped him if only the moon hanging above was more than a slice of a crescent. Without the moonlight, the wandering blue flames were barely of any help now that his guide in the maze was absent.
He was just thinking of shouting aloud when a pained groan came from the left. Harry's mind raced, trying to remember any plants taught at Herbology that could be fatal for an experienced witch. A list of a dozen names flashed past in his mind, causing him to gulp.
"Lady Greengrass?" He called out tentatively.
"NNGGHHH….." The same groan floated from the left, erasing the tiny hope that the earlier sound was an illusion.
Damn it! He fished out his wand and lighted the tip with the weakest of Lumos that he could have produced, perfectly aware of the dangers of bright light in a greenhouse.
The soil beneath his boot crunched ominously as he hurried in the sound's direction, rushing past a few tall rows. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to enter inside them. Harry cleared out the dense rows, squinting in the low light when the vision in front of him halted his steps, skidding as he put an abrupt break and almost fell into the dug-up manure opposite. However, his mind was far from the imminent fall.
"What the hell?"