Page 12 of Spellbound and Gagged

The potion let out a musical chime, and for a split second, Juno's heart soared with triumph. Then, everything went sideways.

The plants around her laboratory suddenly burst into song. Not just any song, but a full-blown operatic aria. The venomous vine trap on her desk launched into a passionate tenor solo, while the cluster of whispering willows by the window formed an impromptu chorus line.

Juno stared in disbelief as her entire collection of magical flora performed what appeared to be a rousing rendition of "The Enchanted Garden," complete with dramatic crescendos and vibrato.

"Oh, for the love of..." Juno groaned, clapping her hands over her ears as a particularly enthusiastic mandrake hit a glass-shattering high note. "This is not what I had in mind."

She scrambled to find a way to stop the botanical opera, but every attempt only encouraged her plants further. The singing swelled to a deafening climax, and Juno resigned herself to thefact that she'd be hearing magical Muzak in her dreams for weeks to come.

As the final notes faded, Juno slumped into her chair, surrounded by the now silent but smugly swaying plants. "Well," she said to no one in particular, "that was a rousing failure. But at least it can't get any worse, right?"

The universe, it turned out, took that as a challenge.

Determined not to be defeated by one minor setback (or an entire operatic disaster), Juno set to work on her next experiment. This time, she reached for a vial of moonbeam extract, hoping it might serve as a substitute for the coveted moonlight orchid nectar.

"A touch of twilight thistle," she muttered, carefully measuring out the shimmering purple powder. "A sprinkle of starfall seeds, and... perfect. This has to work."

She stirred the new concoction, watching as it shifted through a rainbow of colors before settling on a deep, mesmerizing green. The same green as Thaddeus's eyes when he...

Juno shook her head violently, banishing the thought. "Focus on the potion, not on his stupid, beautiful eyes," she scolded herself.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted the vial to her lips. It was risky to test it on herself, but she was too impatient to wait for proper safety protocols. Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

The potion slid down her throat, cool and tingling. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a sensation spread through her body, starting from her core and radiating outward.

"Ha!" Juno exclaimed triumphantly. "I knew it would work!"

Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of her reflection in a nearby mirror. Her triumphant grin faded into an expressionof horror as she watched her skin turn a vibrant, unmistakable shade of green.

"No, no, no!" Juno yelped, rubbing at her arms as if she could wipe away the color. But the green remained, spreading until she looked like she'd taken a bath in emerald dye. "This is not happening."

She frantically began mixing antidotes, trying every reversal spell she could think of. First, she tried a simple color-reversal tincture, which only managed to shift her from emerald to a slightly more alarming shade of lime. Next came a concoction of bleaching beetle wings and clarifying clover, which made her skin tingle pleasantly but otherwise had no effect.

"Come on, come on," she muttered, flipping through her most advanced remedies book. "There has to be something in here."

She tried a topical paste made from neutralizing nightshade and balance beans, spreading it over her hand. For a moment, the green seemed to recede, only to return with renewed vibrancy the moment the paste dried.

For her fourth attempt, Juno brewed a complex elixir involving seven different herbs, all harvested under specific lunar phases. The resulting liquid smelled like a wet dog and tasted even worse, but she gulped it down hopefully. The only result was a loud hiccup that produced a small puff of green smoke.

"At this rate, I'm going to need a full transformation reversal ritual," she groaned, slumping onto her stool. "And those take at least three days to prepare."

Frustrated and more than a little panicked, Juno began to pace her laboratory. The opera-singing plants, apparently sensing her distress, began to hum a sympathetic melody.

"Oh, shut up," she snapped at a particularly pitchy petunia. "This is all your fault. Well, yours and Thaddeus's. If he hadn't taken that moonlight orchid..."

And just like that, all her frustration about Thaddeus came bubbling to the surface.

"That smug, handsome jerk," she ranted, gesticulating wildly as she stomped around the room. "Thinks he's so clever with his 'defensive herbology' and his perfect hair and his thick..."

The plants' humming swelled into a dramatic backing track for her tirade.

"You know what?" Juno continued, warming to her theme. "I bet he's not even using that orchid. He probably just took it to spite me. Because that's what he does. He swoops in with his dark, mysterious act and his ridiculously soft-looking lips and he just... he just..."

She trailed off, suddenly aware of how breathless she'd become. The plants seized the opportunity to launch into a romantic ballad, complete with swaying and what looked suspiciously like floral jazz hands.

"That's not helping," Juno grumbled, but her anger had deflated, leaving her feeling drained and, if she was honest, a little ridiculous. Here she was, green as a frog, surrounded by musically inclined flora, and still thinking about the boy that broke her heart.

She needed air. And possibly a very strong cup of tea.

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