Page 6 of Spellbound and Gagged

Juno raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

Minerva grinned, a mischievous spark in her eye that reminded Juno why they were friends. "It's simple, really. You're going to beat him at his own game."

"And that means...?"

"You're going to create a potion that combines both your approaches—nurturing and defensive. Show him that you understand and respect his methods, while also demonstrating the superiority of your own."

Juno considered this. It wasn't a bad idea, actually. "But won't that just prove his point that defensive herbology has merit?"

"Of course it has merit," Minerva said, rolling her eyes. "Just as his approach has merit. The point is to show that you're mature enough to acknowledge that, while also proving that your combined approach is superior to his solo technique."

"That... actually makes sense," Juno admitted, her mind already racing with possibilities.

"Of course it does. I'm a genius," Minerva said with a smirk. "And trust me, nothing is more attractive to a stubborn man than a woman who can beat him at his own game while still respecting his expertise."

"Speaking from experience?" Juno asked, thinking of Minerva's relationship with Coach Hawthorne.

Minerva's cheeks turned slightly pink. "Let's just say that Archie is most affectionate when I've just proven him wrong in the most spectacular way possible."

Juno laughed, feeling lighter than she had all day. "You're a terrible influence, you know that?"

"The best kind of friend," Minerva corrected with a wink. "Now, tell me about this project of yours. I want all the details."

As they settled in for a night of strategizing and potion planning, Juno felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could have it all—the position, the respect of her peers, andanother chance with the man who still made her heart race after all these years.

The laughing lily chimed its approval from the windowsill. For once, Juno was inclined to agree with her opinionated plant.

Chapter Three

Juno marched towards the sprawling greenhouse complex of Grimm Mawr Academy, her arms laden with color-coded planners and self-inking quills. The early morning mist clung to the glass panels, creating an ethereal glow as sunlight filtered through. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the task ahead. She wasn't pleased that Principal Malachai had assigned additional duties to the staff in preparation for Brewfest. Reorganizing the greenhouse was a daunting job on its own, but doing it with Thaddeus? That was a challenge of epic proportions.

"I know what you're up to, Malachai," she muttered under her breath as she approached the entrance. "About as subtle as a dragon in a china shop."

As she opened the heavy glass door, Thaddeus turned at the sound of her entrance.

"Runeheart," he nodded curtly.

"Shadowspire," Juno returned, matching his cool tone. "Shall we get started?"

And so began the most awkward greenhouse reorganization in the history of Grimm Mawr Academy. They worked in tense silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the scratch of quill on parchment as they made notes. Juno was hyperaware of Thaddeus's every movement—the way he pruned each plant, the careful notes he made in his planner, the way hisrobes stretched across his shoulders when he reached for a high shelf.

Not that she was looking.

"Your venomous foxglove is encroaching on my soothing sage section," Juno pointed out, exasperation coloring her voice as she tried to focus on the task at hand.

Thaddeus didn't even look up from his pruning. "Perhaps your sage isn't as soothing as you think if it can't handle a little competition."

Juno bristled. "Competition? Is that what you call it when your overly aggressive plants try to strangle everything in sight? Your foxglove already bullied my chamomile into wilting."

"Some of us prefer plants that don't wilt at the first sign of adversity," Thaddeus retorted, eyeing Juno's artfully overgrown embracing ivy with disdain.

"There's a difference between strength and bullying," Juno shot back. "But I wouldn't expect you to understand the nuances of nurturing."

Thaddeus's eyes flashed. "And I wouldn't expect you to grasp the importance of discipline and structure in cultivation. Your whispering willows are positively feral."

As they worked, the silence grew heavier between bouts of bickering. Finally, Juno couldn't stand it anymore.

"So," she said, attempting a casual tone, "what was it like? The rain forests of South America?"

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