The youngest Potts cousin felt an easy smile warm her lips, as her shoulders relaxed and her hand fell away from her head. Millie followed Zinnia's attention to the fire, moving to stand close enough to let the hearth's crackling flames warm up the rest of her. She drew in a peacful breath, finding it easy to relax in the shop surrounded by the comforting array of plants, an understanding cousin, a calming hum in the air, and the promise of tea.

"Not at all!" Millie shook her head at the question, not caring what her hair decided to do any longer. Her eyes drifted over the arrangements unfinished on the work counter, tilting her head as she imagined where Zinnia might add in the ribbon. Her thoughts drifted away from the young witch until the sound of her cousin returned, and she spun on the balls of her feet, letting momentum pull her along after a retreating Zinnia.

"What's in the greenhouse this time of year?" The young witch followed in step behind her cousin, and before she could hardly blink the world became a jungle around her. Her mouth opened, the shop was practically a desert by comparison. Millie clasped her free hand to her chest, holding her book tightly as she turned round and round, taking in all the different kinds of life just waiting to be admired.

"The ones at Hogwarts are nothing like this," she offered breathlessly, as if having already forgotten as much after a few months away. The young witch felt transfigured into something else, a different creature than the one who trudged through those damp halls and eked out a quiet reading spot in the Ravenclaw common room. It was nearly like home in here, or as close as Millie could get without leaving High Street, and she couldn't have asked for a better Hogsmeade visit.

At the mention of a pressed bookmark, the young witch drew in a breath, the spark of an idea zipping through her with electric excitement. "Do you and Auntie Laurel grow any Bells of Ireland?"

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