Page 6

J uno's morning began with a scream.

Not her own, thankfully. The shrill sound echoed through the halls of Grimm Mawr Academy, jolting Juno from her haze of boredom as she graded papers.

Another scream, followed by a crash and what sounded suspiciously like a herd of elephants stampeding through the corridors. Juno scrambled out of her chair. Whatever was happening, it sounded like an emergency. As she yanked open her door, Juno's jaw dropped. The hallway outside her quarters had transformed into a jungle overnight. Thick, vibrant vines covered every surface, their tendrils waving in a non-existent breeze. Flowers of every color imaginable bloomed along the vines, their petals opening and closing in an unsettling rhythm.

And in the middle of it all, Professor Thornberry, the ancient Numerology teacher, dangled upside down from the ceiling, ensnared by a particularly mischievous-looking vine.

"Professor Runeheart," Thornberry called out, his face turning an alarming shade of puce. "A little assistance, if you please."

Juno sprang into action, drawing her wand. "Hang on, Professor," she said, then winced at her poor choice of words. "I mean, I'll have you down in a jiffy."

She aimed her wand at the vine holding Thornberry aloft. "Let him go," she said, focusing on projecting calm, soothing energy towards the plant.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the vine began to loosen its grip. It lowered Thornberry gently to the ground, unraveling itself from around his ankles.

"Oh, thank goodness," Thornberry wheezed, straightening his robes. "I thought I was done for. What in the world is going on?"

"I'm not sure," Juno admitted, eyeing the vines warily. They had started to creep towards her feet. "But I intend to find out. You should go back to your classroom. I'll handle this."

As Thornberry scurried away, muttering about retirement, Juno turned her attention to the magical foliage surrounding her. She recognized elements of several different plant species, but the way they were growing and behaving was unlike anything she'd ever seen.

"All right, you overgrown garden party," Juno said, rolling up her sleeves. "Let's see what you're made of."

She began to cast diagnostic spells, trying to understand the nature of the plants' magic. But every time she thought she had a grasp on their properties, they would shift and change, evading her attempts to classify them.

Frustrated, Juno decided to try a more direct approach. She cast a gentle pruning charm, intending to cut back some of the more aggressive vines.

The plants had other ideas.

The moment her spell hit them, the vines exploded into a frenzy of growth. They shot up towards the ceiling, down along the floor, and straight at Juno. Before she could react, she was hoisted into the air, dangling just as Thornberry had been moments ago.

"Let me go," Juno ordered, struggling against the leafy bonds. As she fought to free herself, Juno heard the sound of running footsteps approaching. She twisted in her botanical prison, trying to see who was coming.

Thaddeus skidded to a halt at the end of the vine-choked hallway, his dark robes billowing dramatically behind him. He shook his head as he took in the scene before him, his gaze landing on Juno's upside-down form.

"What in the world is going on?"

"Oh, you know," she said, aiming for nonchalance and missing by a mile. "Just hanging around. Thought I'd get a new perspective on things."

"I see," he said, stepping closer. "And how's that working out for you?"

"Oh, splendidly," Juno replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I highly recommend it. Care to join me?"

As if responding to her words, a vine shot out and wrapped itself around Thaddeus's ankle. He let out a yelp of surprise as he was yanked off his feet, hoisted into the air to dangle beside Juno.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the absurdity of the situation sinking in.

"Well, I suppose that's one way to start the day on equal footing," he said.

Juno snorted, a most unladylike sound that only made Thaddeus grin wider. "Equal hanging, more like," she retorted. "Any brilliant ideas on how to get us down, Professor Defensive Herbology?"

Thaddeus's expression turned serious. "Actually, yes. But you're not going to like it."

"Try me," Juno challenged.

"We need to subdue these plants quickly. My defensive tactics will protect us while I work to control them."

Juno frowned. "Control them? These aren't some potions to be brewed or spells to be mastered. They're living, feeling beings."

"Beings that currently have us trussed up like holiday turkeys," Thaddeus pointed out dryly. "We need to show them who's in charge."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Juno challenged. "Prune them into submission?"

Thaddeus's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Not quite."

He began to move his hands in controlled motions, muttering incantations under his breath. The air around them crackled with magical energy, and Juno felt a protective barrier forming around them both.

"There," Thaddeus said, satisfaction evident in his voice. "Now we can work without fear of further entanglement."

Juno had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that his spell was impressive. But she wasn't about to let him have all the glory. "Fine, you've protected us. But how do you plan to actually solve the problem?"

"With a firm hand and clear boundaries," Thaddeus replied. He turned his attention to the vines, his voice taking on a commanding tone. "Release us at once. We are your masters, and you will obey."

The vines tensed, tightening around them. Juno winced. "Oh yes, that worked brilliantly," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Clearly, they're all aquiver with obedience."

Thaddeus scowled. "Well, I don't see you offering any better ideas."

"As a matter of fact," Juno said, a spark of inspiration hitting her, "I do have one. But you're not going to like it."

"Try me," Thaddeus echoed her earlier challenge.

Juno took a deep breath, centering herself. Then, to Thaddeus's obvious bewilderment, she began to sing. It was a gentle melody, one she often used to soothe agitated plants in her greenhouse.

"What are you doing?" Thaddeus hissed.

"Shh," Juno admonished between verses. "I'm communicating with them. You might try it sometime instead of barking orders."

As she sang, Juno focused on projecting feelings of nurture towards the vines. Gradually, almost imperceptibly at first, the plants began to respond. Their grip loosened, ever so slightly.

"It's working," Thaddeus murmured, amazement coloring his voice.

Juno smiled, never breaking her song. She gestured for Thaddeus to join in.

He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't sing," he protested weakly.

Juno rolled her eyes. "Then hum, whistle, do something. Just project positive energy."

With a sigh that suggested he was suffering a great indignity, Thaddeus began to hum along. His rich baritone, despite his reluctance, blended beautifully with her voice.

Until...

"What in the—" Juno started, but her words were cut off as she and Thaddeus were suddenly bounced up and down like they were on some sort of leafy trampoline.

"This wasn't quite what I had in mind," Thaddeus said as they ricocheted off the walls and ceiling.

"You don't say," Juno shot back, trying desperately to keep her wand aimed at the vines. "Any other bright ideas?"

Before Thaddeus could respond, they were catapulted down the hallway, bouncing and rolling in a tangle of limbs and vines. They came to a stop in front of the main staircase, both dizzy and disoriented.

As the world stopped spinning, Juno became acutely aware of her position. She was sprawled across Thaddeus's chest, their faces inches apart. His arms had wrapped around her protectively during their tumble, holding her close.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, breathing heavily. Juno felt her heart racing, and she was pretty sure it wasn't just from the impromptu acrobatics.

"Are you all right?" Thaddeus asked, his eyes searching her face with concern.

Juno nodded, not trusting her voice. She should move, she knew. But Thaddeus's arms were strong around her, and despite everything, she felt safe.

The moment was broken by a chorus of shrieks from the Great Hall below. Juno and Thaddeus scrambled to their feet, the crisis at hand pushing aside any awkwardness.

"We need to contain this," Thaddeus said, his professional demeanor sliding back into place. "Before the whole academy is overrun."

Juno nodded, straightening her robes. "Agreed. But how? Our spells only made things worse."

"These aren't normal magical plants. They're hybrid. Mixed. They've been enhanced by something."

A lightbulb went off in Juno's head. "The moonlight orchid," she exclaimed. "It must have cross-pollinated with other plants in the greenhouse. That's why they're so unpredictable."

"Of course. The orchid's adaptive properties, combined with the magical essence of other plants..."

"...created a super-plant that's resistant to our usual methods," Juno finished. "So how do we stop it?"

She couldn't help but notice they'd fallen into their old rhythm of finishing each other's thoughts, despite years apart. Part of her resented how easily they still connected, even as another part treasured it. Working with Thaddeus again felt simultaneously natural and frustrating—a clear sign their professional compatibility had survived even when their romance hadn't.

"I've studied magical plant sentience during my research expeditions," Thaddeus said as they dodged another vine. "Different species absorb magical energy from their environment in unique ways. Some, like the whispering willows, channel it into basic communication. Others, like defensive nettles, transform it into protective mechanisms."

Juno nodded. "And the most sensitive varieties—empathic echoes, memory mint, mood marigolds—can actually achieve a form of consciousness. The more magic they absorb, the more sentient they become."

"Exactly. The moonlight orchid is exceptionally receptive to magical energy. If it cross-pollinated with these other varieties..."

"Then we have magic-saturated sentient plants running wild," Juno finished grimly. "Wonderful."

They looked at each other, years of rivalry melting away in the face of this shared challenge. Without a word, they turned and headed for the greenhouse, dodging grasping vines and bouncing tendrils as they went.

The greenhouse was a disaster zone. Plants of all kinds had broken free of their pots, merging and twisting into bizarre new forms. In the center of it all stood the moonlight orchid, glowing with an otherworldly light.

"We need to neutralize it," Thaddeus said, eyeing the orchid warily. "Cut off the source of the magic."

Juno nodded. "But how? It's resistant to both our methods."

Thaddeus was quiet for a moment, then turned to her with a look in his eye that Juno recognized all too well. It was the look he got when he was about to suggest something crazy.

"What if," he said slowly, "instead of trying to stop it, we encourage it?"

Juno stared at him. "You want to make it grow more? Have you lost your mind?"

"Hear me out," Thaddeus said, holding up a hand. "It's adaptive, right? So what if we push it to adapt so much that it burns itself out? Like overloading a circuit."

It was insane. It was reckless. It was actually kind of brilliant.

"It might just work," Juno admitted. "But it's going to take both of us. We'll need to combine our magic again, but this time, in opposition instead of harmony."

Thaddeus nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Just like old times, eh?"

Juno felt an answering smile tugging at her lips. "Let's show these plants what real magical herbology looks like."

They positioned themselves on either side of the moonlight orchid, wands at the ready. Juno took a deep breath, feeling the familiar tingle of magic coursing through her.

"On three," Thaddeus said, his eyes locked with hers. "One... two... three!"

Their spells merged in a blinding flash of light, enveloping the moonlight orchid. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the plant began to grow at an alarming rate, its petals unfurling and multiplying, its stem stretching towards the ceiling.

"Keep going!" Thaddeus yelled over the creaking of rapidly expanding plant matter. "Don't let up!"

Juno gritted her teeth, pushing more power into her spell. She could feel Thaddeus's magic battling with hers, creating a swell of energy that she hadn't experienced since their student days. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

The moonlight orchid continued to grow, faster and faster, until it filled the entire greenhouse. Its light pulsed erratically, and Juno could sense the strain in its magical core.

"It's working!" she called out to Thaddeus. "Just a little more!"

With a final surge, they pushed their spells to their limits. The moonlight orchid shuddered, its glow intensifying to an almost blinding level. And then, with a sound like a thousand wind chimes shattering, it burst into a shower of shimmering pollen.

The magical backlash knocked Juno and Thaddeus off their feet. They landed in a heap among the now-docile plants, covered in powdery orchid dust.

For a long moment, they just lay there, catching their breath.

"We did it," Juno gasped when she could finally speak. "We actually did it."

"We make a good team," Thaddeus said, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. His face was streaked with dirt and pollen, his hair a wild mess, but his eyes were bright with exhilaration. "Especially when we're trying to outdo each other."

Juno sat up, suddenly aware of how close they were. "Yeah," she said. "We do."

She examined the glittering pollen that coated every surface of the greenhouse. It sparkled with magical energy, more vibrant than any ordinary orchid pollen she'd ever seen.

"This pollen is extraordinary," she breathed, scooping up a handful. "The explosion must have concentrated the orchid's magical properties. When we pushed it to its limit, all that adaptive energy had to go somewhere."

"And instead of destroying the magic," Thaddeus added, "the plant transformed it, dispersing it into this enhanced pollen."

"But now, you can use all this pollen for your Brewfest project. It's not as concentrated as the nectar..."

"...but there's a lot of it to make up for that," Juno finished, sifting the pollen through her fingers. "The explosion magnified its properties while breaking it down into a more usable form."

She stared at the shimmering dust in amazement. With this much magically enhanced pollen, she could distill it into something just as potent as the nectar—maybe even more so. It put her back on a level playing field with Thaddeus.

And this time, she wouldn't have to turn herself green to compete.

But as she began gathering the pollen, a troubling thought crept into her mind. If she won the department head position, what would happen to this fragile reconnection with Thaddeus? Would he leave again, seeking new adventures elsewhere? And if he won, could she bear to stay and work under his authority, a constant reminder of what they'd lost?

Either outcome threatened the delicate balance they'd found. It was easier to focus on their professional rivalry than to examine these unsettling thoughts.

"Juno," Thaddeus said as she started to gather the pollen. "We need to talk."

If they talked, they would argue. Or worse, they'd end up in each other's arms again, and she wouldn't be able to think clearly about what was best for her career, her heart, her future.

"I can't talk right now. I'm busy." She had just enough time to distill the pollen into a nectar substitute to get her potion ready for Brewfest.

"Even if it's about us?"

She paused, unable to look at him. When he first came back to Grimm Mawr, she would have given up her garden to hear him say those words. But now, a part of her wondered if he was trying to distract her so that he could regain his advantage. Another part—the part that still ached when she remembered how it felt to watch him walk away—feared what truths might emerge if they finally had that conversation.

She'd accepted his help today, worked alongside him as equals, but that didn't mean she was ready to entrust him with her heart again.

"It's waited this long, hasn't it?" The words came out harsher than she intended, laced with years of buried pain.

He sighed. "I suppose it has."

"Let's talk about us after Brewfest. After the department head position has been announced," she said. If they talked now, one of two things would happen. They'd end up in bed again or bitter enemies, and she didn't want either at the moment.

Right now, she couldn't afford to lose sight of what was at stake. If she bumbled the Brewfest potion, it could cost her the department head job. But if they didn't talk now, would it cost her something dearer?

"As you wish," he said.

Juno didn't look up as he walked out. Just like she didn't watch him walk away from her all those years ago.

But this time, as his footsteps faded, she allowed herself a moment of brutal honesty. The pollen gathering could wait a few seconds.

"I don't know what's going to happen to us," she whispered to the nearest plant, a sympathy fern that curled its fronds around her fingers comfortingly. "If I win, he might leave again. If he wins, I might never forgive myself for letting him back in."

The fern's fronds stroked her hand soothingly, absorbing the conflicted emotions she projected.

"Either way, someone loses," she sighed. "Isn't that just perfect?"

With a final shake of her head, she returned to gathering the precious pollen. Time to focus on what she could control. The rest—their complicated feelings, their unresolved past, their uncertain future—would have to wait.

But as she worked, a question lingered in the back of her mind: what if there was a way they could both win?