A satisfied smile appeared on the witch’s face as she poured an extra cup of chai for Mr. Grimstone and explained rather sheepishly, “My brother er - was pushing me on the swing outside and Tchaikovsky —” As if on cue, the small fox streaked into the room with an acorn in his mouth and dove under the table. “—got in the way. Ludo tripped over Tchai, I tried to catch myself but caught him in the face with the swing and gave him a good clobber across the forehead.” He still had a small strip of bandage on his eyebrow from the fall and the maids back home were still trying to get the bloodstains out from one of his best shirts.

With the small package in front of them, she noted the expression on his face; he had an air of apprehensiveness than eager anticipation as if it were Damocles’ sword hanging over the table instead of an unassuming parcel. She began slowly, now unsure of how the package might be received. “I met Miss Crawley quite some time ago. She liked to come here to walk around and get inspired. Tchai took a liking to her after a while; she’s even painted quite a few portraits of him for me.” Phie directed a fond gaze to the table where the fox’s tail could still be seen swishing about under the cloth. Some of the portraits had been delivered to her family while others were hung in various places around the cottage; a red streak could be seen darting amongst the foliage chasing after small quails popping in and out of the frame.

“She came to me not too long ago and asked a favor that I deliver this to you. She would have done so herself, but some of the pieces weren’t ready yet.” Philomena pushed the package towards Mr. Grimstone. The pieces in question: seeds from various plants Miss Crawley had picked out amongst the rooms in the greenhouse. “I told her that some of them wouldn’t be ready and that I’d be more than happy to deliver them and explain to you what they are, but you’ll find instruction cards along with each packet.”

Miss Crawley seemed to have a keen eye for detail - and rarity. She seemed to pick out a lot of the rarest flowers that she liked and asked for seedlings to be made. Amongst them were the Kadupul flower: a rare white flower with a wonderful fragrance that only bloomed at midnight before withering away before the first crack of dawn; Jade Vine, a stunning turquoise blue bloom with petals the curled skyward like delicate claws; Rebe, a exceedingly endangered plant in the muggle world with medicinal properties to treat stomach aches and dehydration; Karvi, another medicinal plant that only bloomed once every eight years; Neelakurinji that only bloomed once every twelve years in clusters of delicate lavender bell-shaped pods; Himalayan Blue Poppy, another medicinal flower; Snow Lotus; Snow Drops; and Lily of the Valley.

“I warn you Mr. Grimstone,” Phie supplied kindly as she curled her fingers around her porcelain cup. “They aren’t easy flowers to cultivate or to find. When I showed hesitation in giving you them, Miss Crawley gave me her word that you would have someone who would be able to help you along.” As she said this, another package, this one larger and more square floated towards the table.

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