October 27th, 1891 — The Florist Potts, Hogsmeade
@'Daffodil Potts'

The Potts flower shop wasn't strictly on his patrol but sometimes he took the intended route as more of a suggestion than a hard rule.  Otherwise he might become too predictable and aspiring criminals might take note.  At least that’s how he planned to reason it if he was ever asked.  This particular deviation, though, was more inspired by something he'd found in the road and that something was possibly the ugliest flower he'd ever seen.

Limp and ragged, it had been clearly stepped on a few times, and appeared to be missing more than half it's petals.  It was mottled, sported odd hair like sprouts, and even smelled unpleasant, though Jack suspected that had more to do with the fact that the thing was just naturally wretched than with the fact that it was clearly a little worse for wear.  With a gleeful grin he plucked it off the ground and turned heel towards the florist. 

Noting through the window that the store was momentarily patron free, he pushed through the doors, with a much more tame smile.  The elegant and artful flora that filled the shop threw the weed in his hand into even sharper relief.  And therein lied the joke.

"Good day, Miss Potts.  I saw this on my walk today and could not help but think of you."  He held the abomination out to her with puppy eyes as another petal came loose and fluttered to the floor.

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