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Lifting a Hero's Spirit - 3
🕑 Added 2025-04-05 21:48:16 +0000 UTCThe next day found Miguel in better spirits. He wasn’t quite happy - how could he be after the mess he’d made of things with Poppy? But the chance at spending time alone with Professor Garlick would brighten the day of any young man. By the time supper rolled around, he’d actually been looking forward to it.
He pushed into the dining hall, noting again how sparsely populated it was. Not too many students chose to stay over Summer break. There was faint chattering among the small groups. Miguel picked out his friends, Ominis and Garreth, quickly enough.
Miguel had never been good at masking his feelings. So when he finally sat down to grab some food, his fellow wizards caught on to his better mood rather quickly.
“The Hero of Hogwarts graces us with his presence yet again.” Ominis smirked in his direction. He was poking idly at his plate - a cut of juicy roast beef, drenched in gravy. The aroma carried into Miguel’s nostrils, making his mouth water and his stomach rumble. “And it didn’t take very long for him to bounce back, did it?”
As Miguel grabbed a plate and began helping himself to his own cut of the roast, Garreth let out a deep laugh.
“The audacity of looking so modest. Like he didn’t charm his way into Professor Garlick’s graces.” The Gryffindor let out a scoff and shook his head - playing it all up, of course.
Miguel was too hungry to care about the implication of such speedy gossip. He only shot the two boys a flat look as he shoveled mashed potatoes onto his plate to accompany his slices of roast.
“Nothing to say for yourself?” Ominis prodded.
Miguel shrugged as he sat back down. Most of his focus remained squarely on his stacked plate. The meat dripped with juice and gravy. It was begging to go into his belly.
“I only offered to help her around the greenhouses. It’s nothing.” He told them before cutting a chunk off with his fork and shoveling it into his mouth. The flavor spilled over his tongue, warm and delicious. Merlin, he almost groaned.
Across the table, Ominis was wholly unimpressed.
“Nothing.” He repeated, unconvinced.
“Nothing.” Miguel confirmed while chewing.
Beside him, Garreth was absolutely cackling.
“Can you believe this young man? He’s going to spend all that time alone with a beautiful older woman and it’s nothing.”
Miguel felt a fleeting urge to correct Garreth - Professor Garlick was in fact the youngest teacher at Hogwarts. In the end, the young wizard held his tongue.
“It’s really nothing.” He insisted.
Neither Ominis or Garreth seemed to care. To them, it was far more amusing to play into the imagined scandal - The Hero of Hogwarts couldn’t just be an average student, could he?
Garreth clapped Miguel on the shoulder.
“It’s not enough to be the big hero, win the House Cup, have all the professors respect you. Now you’re set on being Garlick’s favorite boy.”
“Jealousy is unbecoming, Weasley.” Ominis barbed half-heartedly.
“It’s admiration.” Garreth told him. He sent Miguel a wry grin. “Mostly.”
Miguel breathed in deeply through his nose, letting it all out as a long, heavy sigh.
“There’s nothing to admire because there’s nothing going on. I’m her new assistant. That’s all.”
Miguel went back to his food, scooping up some mashed potatoes and meat together, making sure to catch some juices and gravy before bringing it up for a bite. As he chewed, he noticed Ominis and Garreth sharing mischievous grins. The glint in their eyes told him they weren’t going to let this go.
Then Garreth leaned over, keeping his voice low.
“If you ever get tired of Garlick riding you like a workhorse, could you be a lad and recommend me as your replacement?”
Miguel had to stop chewing. An outrageous comment, certainly, but Miguel found his thoughts drifting. A new scene raced through his head, of himself as the aforementioned workhorse… and indeed the beautiful professor Garlick was riding him. Stripped of her clothes, red hair bouncing, delicate face flushed pink as she howled in delight. The scene swept through his head for only a split second before he shook himself back to rational thoughts. Miguel swallowed down his food and gave Garreth a side eye.
“I don’t know why you took the job anyway.” Ominis said, drawing Miguel attention. “The summer coursework will take up enough of your time as it is.”
“That’s actually why I volunteered. Professor Garlick offered to help me.” Miguel told them.
Garreth let out a small hoot, shifting in his seat. Miguel braced himself as the Gryffindor clapped him on the back.
“Private lessons, too! Ominis, this young wizard is diabolical!”
Miguel took the teasing with good humor - as good as he could manage. Hogwarts summers were slow, so he heard other students say. No point in ruining his friends’ fun.
As Ominis and Garreth continued to chatter, for Miguel their voices slowly faded into the background. As he picked at his food, his eyes flicked over to the teacher’s table, seeking out the welcome sight of a familiar redhead. He picked her out quickly.
Professor Mirabel Garlick was tending to her own plate of food, a slice of pie from what Miguel could see. She was chatting amicably with her fellow teachers, a friendly, gentle smile brightening her lovely face. Looking at her now, seeing the softness in her eyes, the silky smoothness of her wavy red hair, the way her lips moved as she spoke… It was no mystery why nearly every boy in Hogwarts was smitten with her.
Then, like she could sense his attention, her eyes flicked towards him, meeting his gaze. Miguel’s heart jumped, his body freezing still. A second stretched on, feeling like an eternity.
Then Professor Garlick offered a smile. It was warm, gentle, and meant for him.
Miguel felt his heart beating faster, a warmth fluttering in his chest. He gave Garlick a smile in return… and a small wave. He saw her giggle at that. It made his cheeks burn so he tore his eyes away.
Stupid.
As Miguel silently chided himself, his eyes continued to wander the dinner hall. Perhaps by chance or by unconscious choice, his gaze settled on the Hufflepuff table. With the school so sparsely populated for the summer, it wasn’t difficult to pick out people among the small groups across the dining hall. And just as his luck would have it, Miguel met the eyes of Poppy Sweeting.
Like with Garlick, a second stretched on for eternity. As Miguel and Poppy held each other’s gaze from across the hall, their kiss replayed in his mind. The rush of excitement, the softness of her lips, he could feel it all over again… followed swiftly by the sting of her pushing him away.
Poppy looked away first. Miguel didn’t know if that was good or bad.
“At some point you have to go and talk to her.” Ominis said, sighing.
How his fellow Slytherin knew he was looking at Poppy, Miguel didn’t know. Nevertheless, Ominis had a point - though it tasted bitter.
“It’s not that simple.” Miguel said back, frowning.
“I disagree.” His friend’s reply was flat and unimpressed. “In fact, it’s only complicated because you’re making it complicated.”
“Bloke can’t even see and he’s tired of watching you moon over the girl.” Garreth chuckled as he spoke. “I don’t get it either, what with you getting quality time with Garlick. Or are you sad you couldn’t snatch them both up?”
There was a quick flash of thoughts through his mind, vivid scenes of sweet-faced Poppy and full-figured Mirabel and the young, strapping Hero of Hogwarts receiving affections from them both. Enough to get his heart racing… but not enough to keep him at the table. How could he stay with the way his cock was stirring awake? He had to get out of there.
Merlin’s beard, I just wanted to eat supper in peace!
“Thank you both for the moral support.” Miguel coughed as he rose from his seat. “I’m afraid I must cut this short. I have somewhere to be.”
Anywhere but here…
“You’ve hardly eaten anything, mate.” Garreth complained.
Indeed, his plate - stacked with roast beef, mashed potatoes, all coated in thick gravy - was mostly intact. Miguel couldn’t bring it all with him. Still, he couldn’t stay. Not with his loins swelling against his will.
The young hero reached forth and snatched a small roll of bread from the table. He dipped it into the gravy on his plate and took a bite.
“Good talk.” Miguel grumbled with a half-full mouth. “Another time, then.”
Ominis waved him off. Garreth continued to joke. Miguel paid neither boy any real mind, offering only a half-hearted wave as he turned and left. His cock was half-hard now - against his will, his mind was imagining how Poppy’s lips would feel on his neck.
He made for the doors and didn’t look back.
- - -
The bread roll was gone by the time he reached the courtyard. Tasty thanks to the gravy but Miguel quickly came to regret leaving that juicy roast behind. On the bright side, he did manage to put a stop to those lurid thoughts Garreth had so helpfully planted in his head. His erection thankfully wilted, his manhood going dormant again.
All for the better as Miguel found himself crossing paths with another familiar face.
Natty Onai was passing on by through the courtyard, likely just heading in for supper. Miguel gave her a friendly wave. But rather than waving back and going on her way, the dark-skinned girl turned and headed straight for him.
Miguel slowed as she closed the distance, wondering what the young Gryffindor witch wanted with him. Her eyes were set on him, focused with intent.
“You haven’t spoken to Poppy in a while.” She stated plainly - though there was a small flavor of accusation in her tone.
Miguel closed his eyes, taking in a breath. He wanted to groan.
Not you too, Natty.
Thought it was his own fault for being unprepared - He’d forgotten Natty and Poppy became friends over the school year.
“No. I haven’t.” He finally answered.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Natty looking much like Ominis - thoroughly unimpressed. The witch shook her head - like he was the one trying her patience.
“She’s waiting for you to come around.”
That got Miguel’s attention. He straightened his back, suddenly very, very interested in what the Gryffindor had to say.
“She told you this herself?”
Natty gave him a look.
“What do you think?”
Huh. For Miguel, this knowledge changed things. For the better, of course. The last few days he’d gone on thinking Poppy soured on him. The young wizard had to settle his thoughts. His brow pinched into a solid line as he narrowed his eyes.
“Does she want me to apologize?” He wondered out loud.
Natty gave a scoff.
“Of course not. She just wants to talk. She’s been waiting for days. Thinks you’re angry with her.”
Miguel was sputtering then, bewildered by the sheer absurdity.
“That- That’s ridiculous!” He almost shouted. The witch recoiled a bit and Miguel found his gaze darting around the courtyard. Thankfully it was empty save for the two of them.
“Then tell her.” Natty urged, keeping her voice low.
Miguel’s jaw tightened. His cheeks were burning again, just like they were when Poppy ran off. The sting of humiliation was back too, needling deep in the back of his mind. All over again, he was overwhelmed with the desire to sink into the floor and never come back out.
“I… I can’t. Not right now. Tell her I’m busy.”
Some hero I am…
Natty let out a groan.
“I’ll tell her boys are impossible.” With a roll of her eyes, she brushed past him. He watched her go.
“Thanks, Natty.” He said to no one. “Wonderful.”
With a heavy sigh, Miguel pushed on. Work would take his mind off of things. And the greenhouses weren’t far.
- - -
It was sunset when he reached the greenhouses, the golden glow of the horizon catching on the glass. It cast the interior in a cozy haze - almost enough to raise Miguel’s spirits.
But the young Slytherin quickly noticed the soil strewn about the floor, the haphazardly stacked sacks of fertilizer that were nowhere near the supply closet, and the not insignificant number of overgrown plants - they would need to be trimmed for the evening. A peculiarity of many magical plant life, the rapid growth that required constant attention when brought back to the civilized world.
Miguel let out a huff. Just because it was his first day at work didn’t mean it was going to be easy.
Poppy’s pretty face still dominated his mind. Work would take his focus elsewhere. So Miguel started on his duties, choosing to begin with carrying the fertilizer back into storage.
The bags were large and heavy, so Miguel hefted them up onto his shoulder. Miguel didn’t mind the effort - growing up without magical ability had led to him getting used to manual labour. In fact, he found the physical routine somewhat calming. It reminded him of simpler times, back when he wasn’t a wizard, when he wasn’t facing rogue goblins and evil sorcerers, when he wasn’t plagued with young love and young heartbreak.
By the time he’d carried the last of the bags into storage, the sun had finally disappeared under the horizon. The greenhouse was lit by hanging lanterns now. The cozy glow was gone, replaced by something moodier. Yet… also serene.
Miguel stopped for a breath, taking in the silence. By now the humidity had drawn some sweat out of him. He’d gotten rid of his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and his arms were already smudged with grime. And he wasn’t even halfway done!
Time to start sweeping then, Miguel thought as he eyed the dirt covering the floor. He grabbed a broom and went to work.
Quickly, he fell into daze. His body worked on its own, the routine bringing forth a nice calm. Sweeping, sweeping, sweeping… until a voice rose up behind him.
“I see you’ve already gotten started.” Soft, feminine, familiar. Miguel turned to see Professor Garlick there, smiling as she observed the headway he’d made on cleanliness. “I like the initiative.”
The professor was dressed as she normally was, a long dress of varying shades of green, the skirt ending at her ankles. Long sleeves reached just past her wrists, bright green ruffled cuffs at the end. Her dark brown boots clicked against the stone floor as she approached. The only thing missing was her hat, revealing the full head of that vibrant, shining red hair. But what caught Miguel’s attention the most were her eyes - deep green, warm and kind. Matched with that smile of hers…
Miguel swallowed and quickly found his voice.
“I just figured I could get the simple stuff out of the way first.” He explained - presenting the broom in his hands as proof. As if that was even necessary. He immediately felt dumb for doing it.
But Professor Garlick’s look remained kind. In fact, she appeared a little impressed.
“Indeed. And you do it all by hand?”
“I like to. It’s calming.” Miguel’s cheeks weren’t quite warm, but he could feel it coming on. What with the way the Professor was looking him over now.
“It does wonders for the arms, it looks like.” There was a tiny hint of mirth in her voice. “In any case, let’s move on to the real work.”
The Professor moved on by, waving for Miguel to follow. So the young wizard did, still holding the broom as he went.
The real work, as it turned out, was tending to the many, many plants. Watering them, repotting them, trimming them, and in some cases, harvesting them. Professor Garlick would go on to explain that some of her plants could only be properly harvested at night. Something about how the sunlight weakened harvested seeds. It was a bit more complicated than Miguel could follow, but the routine itself was quite simple. He fell into the motions easy enough.
After a time, Professor Garlick drifted back over to observe his work.
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” She noted, sounding pleased.
“I like plants. And I like the quiet.” Miguel told her as he plucked the last of the harvest from one tall, spindly stalk. He set the seeds in a small bowl and covered it with a brown cloth.
The Professor let out a satisfied hum.
“It’s so tranquil, isn’t it?” She gently took the bowl in her hands, wrapping the cloth more tightly around it. “That’s why I love night gardening. Sometimes plants make better company than people.”
“Sometimes.” Miguel agreed. “I think you’re pretty good company, Professor.”
The young wizard didn’t know what compelled him to say that last part. A stillness came over him, a split-second of stunned shock… and dread. But the fear turned out to be misplaced. To Miguel’s great relief, his kind, beautiful professor curled her lips into a tiny, amused smile.
“Hm. Heroic and charming.”
Now he really was blushing. Miguel kept his mouth shut, knowing anything he said would come out a stuttering mess. Garlick’s expressions softened with sympathy, but the amusement remained. She patted him on the shoulder and guided him over to a new plant. It was one he recognized, a tall stalk of pale green bulbs with thin barbs sticking out - though he couldn’t place the name.
“Mimbulus Mimbletonia.” The Professor reminded him. She set the bowl aside and came up next to him, offering Miguel a pair of clippers. “You have to be careful with this one. The thorns like to stick with a nasty sting.”
Miguel nodded, remembering more than a few mishaps.
“I’m aware. Wicked looking plant, isn’t it?”
Garlick snorted softly in agreement.
“I had to have it imported from Assyria. No favors I could pull for this one, just plenty of coin. Well worth it just to have it in my collection.” There was a look of pride on the woman’s face, admiration in her eyes.
Miguel was doing some admiring of his own, taking in the details of Professor Mirabel, her lips, her fair skin, all that voluminous red hair… He had to force his attention back on the Mimbletonia. Silently, he hoped the professor hadn’t noticed.
“You want me to prune it?” He asked.
“The only way to learn is through experience.” Garlick gave a playful nudge with her elbow. “Don’t tell me the Hero of Hogwarts is wary of some little thorns?”
“Of course not.” Miguel stood up a little straighter… though that only seemed to amuse Garlick even more. Another surprise followed - the woman moved behind him, pressing close.
Miguel certainly wasn’t averse to it, but it left the young wizard without words. Garlick was close. Very close. The presence of the Professor was a pleasant warmth at his back, her voice right up at his ear.
“Here.” She said softly. “I’ll even help you.”
As Miguel held the clippers, her hands came around to mirror his, her fingers touching at his wrists. She guided him that way, making him bring the clippers slowly, carefully up to one particularly long barb. All the while Miguel’s heart was pounding. His body was stiff, his back rigid like a stone pillar. He couldn’t believe how close Professor Garlick was.
Garreth’s jokes from supper played through his head again. As each second passed, they were turning more truthful than either boy could have believed.
Indeed, Miguel Luna felt like the luckiest wizard alive.
“Pruning the Mimbletonia is a little tricky. Let’s start off slow.”
Miguel swallowed. “Okay.”
“You have to be careful how short you clip the thorns. Burst the bulbs and you’ll spill stinksap everywhere. Not fun at all.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Miguel's hands were trembling now. All nerves. All because of Garlick’s touch. He tried to settle it down as he brought the clippers in on one of the thorns. But just as his luck would have it… “Ah!”
The barb stuck on his pointer finger. Right past the first knuckle. Just as Garlick warned, it stuck deep and it stung. Miguel recoiled, dropping the clippers as he stepped back. That brought an even sharper pain as the barb dragged back out. Miguel hissed, seeing blood well up and trickle down his finger. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Garlick Let out a tsk.
“That’s why I said be careful.”
“Damn.” Miguel kept his hand held out, letting the tiny droplets of blood hit the floor. The sting did not fade. “It’s not poisonous, is it?”
“Oh, no. It’ll just ache for a bit.” Miguel felt Garlick’s hand at his back, ushering him along. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Back at her “office”, the Professor rooted around her desk for bandages. She took out a white cloth and dabbed it on Miguel’s finger - the young wizard tried not to wince from the sting. Once the blood was dabbed away, she aimed her wand and muttered a word. A flash of pale light later and the pain was gone… and so was the tiny cut.
Miguel flexed his fingers, opening and closing his hand. Even after a whole year at Hogwarts, magic still astounded him.
“Sorry, Professor.” He said, looking away. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, even if he knew Garlick would just brush it off.
“You’re normally so focused during class.” The woman clicked her tongue. “Something has you distracted. Girl trouble?”
Embarrassment was then joined by confusion. Miguel furrowed his brow, braving looking Garlick in the eye.
“Uh… what gave you that idea?”
Garlick gave him a look, crossing her arms - as if the answer should have been obvious.
“I have ears, young man. I do hear gossip on occasion. Even now with so many having gone back home. Word travels.”
Miguel wanted to sink into the floor all over again. He closed his eyes and sighed. He rubbed at his forehead, pushing hard circles through the skin. Maybe his fingers would push through his skull and end his troubles for good.
“Does everybody in this bloody school know about the kiss?”
“I didn’t.” Garlick snickered. “Until just now.”
“Oh. Great.”
Of course Garlick looking so amused only made it worse. She reached out, touched his shoulder, no doubt trying to comfort him. Miguel had to wonder: did Garlick even know how gorgeous she was?
“You really like this girl, don’t you?” She asked in a gentle voice.
“Poppy Sweeting.” Miguel confessed with a huff. He looked off into space, resigned to it. Might as well tell all if the Professor knew so much already.
Garlick perked up at the name, looking stunned.
“One of my Hufflepuffs?” She let out a bemused hum. “It makes sense. She’s a very pretty young witch, isn’t she?”
“Pretty and kind.” Miguel agreed, still staring off. Poppy’s face swirled into view for him, her cute nose, big eyes, plump lips, soft brown hair, all bringing his heart to a flutter. “And brave. She’s not afraid to break the rules to do what’s right.”
He didn’t even realize he’d been smiling until Garlick nudged him again. The Professor had a knowing smirk herself.
“Something you’ve got in common.” She teased.
Miguel felt his cheeks warm even further. He rubbed the back of his neck. A lot of their adventures hadn’t really followed school safety guidelines.
“Right. She helped me more than once. Though… I probably shouldn’t go into detail with a professor.”
Professor Garlick simply waved him off.
“It’s fine. Things all worked out in the end, didn’t they?” She pursed her lips, looking curious now. “So one day, you just decide to kiss her? Out of the blue?”
“The year was over, the school was saved, I’d just won the House Cup for Slytherin. It felt like the right moment.” Miguel defended… though the sting of humiliation came creeping back as memories from that night ran through his head.
Garlick nodded and sighed. She rubbed his shoulder with sympathy. Her touch was soft, warm… though Miguel tried not to focus on that.
“Oh, Miguel… It’s good to be spontaneous, but that doesn’t mean you do those sorts of things without thinking. You probably scared her out of her wits. It’s no small thing when a handsome young wizard kisses a girl. Especially when that wizard is the Hero of Hogwarts.”
Miguel winced, remembering how Poppy ran off.
“Yeah…” But then his back straightened as the Professor’s words actually sank in. He looked her way, brows raised high. “You think I’m handsome?”
Pretty Professor Garlick only rolled her eyes.
“Out of everything I said to you, that’s what sticks?”
“Sorry.”
The redhead took in a slow breath. She reached out with her other hand, both planted on his shoulders now. She looked Miguel straight in the eyes.
“Yes. You are handsome. And cute. And kind and smart and responsible and very, very brave. The next few years at Hogwarts are going to be very interesting for you, I’m sure.” Her lips curled - not quite a smirk. “I suppose it’s good you’re getting experience now, in that case. Was Miss Sweeting your first kiss?”
Though his cheeks were positively burning now, with his heart racing and fluttering like mad, Miguel managed to nod. He didn’t know where the Professor was going with this - but he didn’t mind the praise. He didn’t mind it one bit.
Garlick had a thoughtful expression now, her lips pursed again. They looked so soft. Miguel couldn’t stop looking at them.
“Hm. That’s a shame. A first kiss should be special.” Garlick finally said.
“I made a mess of things, didn’t I?”
Now she was smiling - though the glimmer in her eyes was something else. Not unkind… but not quite warm, either. There was… a sharpness there. Piercing. Like she could see right through him.
Miguel swallowed. His heart fluttered faster.
“Tell you what…” Garlick drew just a bit closer. Her hands slid down from his shoulders, settling over his chest now. “Why don’t I make it up to you? As a… thank you of sorts. For saving the school.”
“I… don’t understand.” That wasn’t quite true. But he’d learned his lesson about assuming these sorts of things.
Garlick was even closer now. So close that he could smell the rich, flowery scent in her hair… and could see just how soft and smooth her lips looked, how brilliant the green of her eyes were.
“Kiss me.” She offered. “The way you kissed Miss Sweeting.”
Miguel was wide-eyed, frozen - yet his chest burned with warmth. His entire body, his skin, every inch alive with boyish jubilation. Yet he couldn’t move. Could barely even speak.
“That’s… I… are you certain?” He practically croaked.
Garlick let out a low hum. The sound was honey pouring through his ears. Her chest pressed into him. Her fingers felt at his body beneath his clothes. She was so warm.
“Completely. Kiss me.” She was urging him now.
“But what about-”
Garlick grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged him down. Their lips met and the young wizard’s mind went blank. Thoughts were banished. Only feeling remained. The beating of his heart. The softness of the Professor’s lips. The spellbinding sensation of that softness shifting and sliding against his own. Kissing Poppy was amazing. But kissing Professor Garlick was otherworldly.
Miguel’s head was spinning. Garlick’s hands slid back up his chest, slithering around his neck to keep him close. She deepened the kiss, humming into his mouth. Miguel thought his heart was going to explode. It felt like his whole body would light aflame. And it felt so good.
His body demanded more. More of Garlick. More from him. His arms moved on their own, coiling around Garlick’s slim waist. She made another sound into his mouth, soft and delightful. Was she pleased? If she wasn’t, she would have pushed him away. Miguel groaned, holding the woman close. She slid her tongue into his mouth. It was a miracle he didn’t turn into a puddle right then.
It was like magic. No, it was better than magic.
But, like with all good things, it had to come to an end. Professor Garlick broke away and Miguel slowly drifted out of that wonderful haze. He was flushed and breathless. But Garlick?
Professor Garlick was smiling.
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