Dirt
February, 1993
Filius Flitwick was pacing.
"I… I think what you're doing is… is marvellous… is heroic? No, you idiot… is…"
"Trouble with grammar, Filius?" Minerva said with a wry smile as she walked into the staff room. The tiny man jumped.
"No," he said, flushing. "I was merely... practicing... rhetoric."
"For that meeting with a certain witch we both know you've been avoiding?" Minerva sat down with her cup of tea by the fire and watched Filius over the rim of her glasses.
"I…" Flitwick began, before abandoning his façade and collapsing into a chair across from McGonagall. "Oh, Minerva, I've held a torch for so long…"
Minerva's lips twitched into a smile. "You know I don't ordinarily care for this sort of gossip, Filius, but it's obvious to everyone on staff, except her of course, that you love this woman silly. Do us all a favour and do something about it."
Flitwick kicked his feet in frustration. "I can't seem to find the words, Minerva. Especially now, that she's so busy with the Mandrakes…" Filius shook his head hard, as though to dislodge his amorous feelings out of his head. "The trouble with Pomona is that even after she's been fussing with teenaged plants all day, covered in dirt and secretly gritting her teeth in frustration, she's still absolutely gorgeous and I can't approach her for stammering. No—pardon me—especially when she's covered in dirt do I struggle to approach her. I—"
"Filius," McGonagall interrupted, pursing her lips. "Words aren't necessary with Pomona. A gesture will do. A box of chocolates will profess your affection. A rare plant, perhaps. Valentine's Day is next week. Just… quit fluttering about and make your feelings known. You by yourself are worse than my entire class of sixth-years, which I daresay is saying something."
And Minerva rose from her chair and left Filius alone in the staff lounge once again.
--
Exactly one week later, Filius slipped into Greenhouse Three, dittany in hand, earmuffs over his ears. Moments later, the dittany safely on the ground, Pomona was swept up in his arms.
Behind them, the teenaged Mandrakes made fake gagging noises.