It had been a busy week for miss Wiedman, what with getting caught red-handed and being thrown out of Gregory's fine London flat and all.  She couldn't count her losses these days; it seemed all of the city's finest had caught word that she wasn't to be trusted.  What piddle-paddle.  When would she find someone who could take a decent joke?  All it was, really, was the tale of a girl who made her own way in the world.  It didn't matter so much that she stole, or was calculating, or even that she set people up to be taken advantage of.  What mattered was that there was some way, some modest way of living that -- despite all appearances -- was allowing her to live as she pleased:  A free faye.

But, alas, with such a life came such consequences, and she was landed in her parent's cottage yet again.  She'd contact Fillin soon enough, of that she was sure (and by now he'd be expecting such a return), but in the meantime Dazmond was off to investigate a curious place she'd happened across.

Some days ago she'd been sitting on a curb in Diagon just outside of Slug & Jiggers, waiting on a friend.  And in came some formal delivery of finely-cared-for plants, unusual plants -- not banned, of course, but indeed eccentric.  So alive were they that Dazmond was pulled from the very core towards them.  She watched in a curious stance as they were carried away, and she followed.  Inside the aromatic shop they found new homes and price tags, or else were carried to the back for inventory to be hung and dried as time saw fit.  If it weren't for a very special dinner for which she was running tardy, Daz would have likely slunked about for hours.  Nevertheless that insignia had left its mark:  Green Wands Greenhouses.

Days slipped by just as easily as the incident slipped her mind.  But upon her latest re-entry to the Wiedman cottage, in a bit of a funk really, Dazmond had naught to do but pour herself over her father's Daily Prophet.  Fussing over portkeys, she turned the page to find the strange alerting article concerning the early release of Theodora Kingstreet.  Dazmond squinted at the page, a half smile in formation.  Volunteer passes, she thought with an inward laugh.  She hoped her release was true.  "A bit inspiring," she muttered to herself, catching an odd glance from her pa.  But the really worthwhile piece was what came next, an advertisement for none other than Green Wands Greenhouses.  Stopping much more critically than before, Dazmond quickly tore it from its frame.

"What's that," said her blood and kin, alarmed and nearly assaulted by her annhilation of this proper document.

"Just an ad; you won't want it!"  And so saying, she fled the room.

Next day she made out to find this place, thinking that there must be some lead, some contact here that could be made.  Free plants.  She could always use free plants. 

Scanning the area, Dazmond ducked into a greenhouse.  She wasn't quite sure if she was supposed to be here, but it didn't matter all so much.  She was keeping an eye out for any unmarried men, but for the moment she found herself suspended in a blissful environment of euphoric calendulas and octopiplants.

Susan had arrived at work late today; she had her doctor’s appointment that had left her a little shell-shocked by the experience. She was pregnant, and that was that. It was time to tell Ernie, but how? She couldn’t exactly focus on that because now it was time to head to work and let the poor assistant go home.  She had apologized for her late arrival and promised to pay them over time before the left. Susan had too much to catch up on to really focus on the news she had received today. It was strange though there was a bit of spring in her step it was the happiness she felt sprouting out in a different part of her rather than her face.

After making sure that her assistant was paid for the day and extra time they spent in her absences. Followed by paying for the day she started to do some other paper worker that was growing on her desk. She also had to start on the inventory that was over due. How come everything just all snowballed all at once? She sorted through a few papers spending a few hours checking over the books and orders, sipping at her decaf tea that keep refilling itself as she had charmed the cup to do. She was sure by the end of it she had gone through at least two pots.

Once satisfied with her paperwork she got up and taking her clipboard and quill, charming it to tick off when she instructed it to do so. She carried her cup of tea and started to enter the greenhouses from her little office to look at the plants. She signaled to the quill watching it tick of the correct plant. Susan sipped at her tea as she walked between the plants.

As she round a corner she ran her hands over some of the leaves, at least they were in good health. She bent over and smelled some blooms that had developed on the less magical plants she chose to carry. She passed some more obscure plants and smiled, they seemed to be flourishing here she must compliment her plant tenders on work well done.

As she continued on she sipped more tea and nearly choked when she found a person that was not an employee. “Excuse me may I help you?” She was sure she had not scheduled any clients for a visit today but then who knew her mind was a mess right now. Confusion was written all over her face as she looked at the woman standing there in her greenhouse.

Oooh, this can't be good, thought Dazmond, turning costively round as she rose from where she crouched (she'd been smelling a shrivelfig, scissors in hand).  She held her arms daintily behind her back, taking a moment to be gracious and look chaste.  She was a fine actress, that Daz, but she simply couldn't cut it when confronted with such unexpected shock.  Of seeing such a familiar face!  She looked at the woman as though she were being accosted by something disgraceful and grossly offensive.  And then she contorted her features into a splendidly relished laugh.

"Susan Bones?  Ha!  You've godda be kidding me!"  The two were nowhere near the status of proper chums but, taking her current situation into account, Dazmond could use a bit of improvisation to elicit pseudo-memories of all the delightful days they shared at Hogwarts -- the pranks and gags and rat-outs excluded, one should hope.  Anything, at this point, that would take the focus off of her and the apparent position she held as intruder.

"What, you don't own this place do you?  Didn't they tell you?  Surely someone told you I was coming by."  Dazmond desperately needed a puff or two for casuality's sake, so she allowed her sheer-holding hand to be brought public.  She even brought the clipper's to the ex-Hufflepuff's attention so as to look inconspicuous.  "Who trims around here," she said, a bit brashly.  "Those Shrivelfigs were going to bite it if I didn't take some off the top, you know.  Anyway, don't worry about paying me -- consider it a good samaritan act.  I don't like to see plants in trouble, as I'm sure you'll agree."  And with that she slid the clippers out of sight and into the black rucksack she carried.  They were soon replaced with a gilded paper cigarette, employed to ease the young woman's nerves.  She had calmed considerably from her initial stance of horror.

"Well if I would've known it was you I'd be meeting....  Susan Bones!?  I mean really?  Whatever have you been doing?"

Susan took in the scene more critically as she saw the scissors in hand, what was this woman doing to her precious plants. Susan felt the anger swelling in the pit of her stomach at the sight of her plants being trimmed by some stranger. Why was she here? That temper that rarely showed its face was ready to go, but the look of the woman was what put a stop to it, she appeared a bit gracious for a moment, but then Susan too was hit with a blow of familiarity. Susan racked her brain for a name to match the face that had matured since her days of Hogwarts. No doubt the woman was not apart of Susan’s inner circle, more like the opposite if she had to put her finger on it.

At the sound of her name coming from her mouth she raised an eyebrow. “Yes, well no. I am Susan Macmillan now.” Susan stumbled over her words shocked at the fact her name was remembered by someone who was not so quickly snapping back into her own memory from the days at school. As she looked at the features she finally felt a click of the memory, “Dazmond Wiedman?” She said with some question, “You have not changed.” Whether that was to be a compliment or an insult was up to debate. Appearance wise Susan would like to say it was a compliment but personality well time would tell on that. Susan recalled memories that were a little less than fond memories of encounters with Dazmond, but Susan always gave people a chance.

“No they didn’t tell me and I do own this place. I make the appointments so I would remember.” Susan said with a slight tone of confusion as it bothered her as to why she was here. “My plant tenders and myself trim around here. Thank you though,” she weakly said not wanting to seem ungrateful or harsh. Susan preferred not to find a customer trimming plants on their own accord. “I usually don’t have people in here as it is a warehouse of sorts,” Susan said because she never sold face to face only in bulk and was trying to be polite about the whole not supposed to be there.

Susan saw the cigarette replace the scissors and her stomach twisted and her face was sure held a cringe. “No smoking in here,” Susan was far too protective over her plants. She tried not to have the sheepish look on her face that she was sure was showing in her eyes. She should not feel bad for giving instructions or rules in her own establishment.

“Well I have been working and running this place. Taking care of my husband not that he needs it, I think he takes care of me more than I realize.” Susan awkwardly laughed as this moment was uncomfortable. “So what has brought you here? Anything I can help you with?”

Another misconfiguration flew over Dazmond's face as the Bones girl told her not to smoke.  It was very disagreeable to hear instructions given by an ex-clan member of the Harry Potter fanbroom flight of fancy.  Dazmond rolled her fingers over the end of the tobacco tube till the embers all dropped to the greenhouse floor; never once did she look at what she was doing -- as she was keeping watch on Susan Bones from behind dark shades, maintaining contact as if in the eye of a duel.  But, to her credit, Dazmond feigned some interest in the naive witch's herstory.  After all, Susan Bones had her by the scruff and there'd be no easy wriggling out.  She still couldn't tell if she had actually trespassed or not.

But then the word Husband jerked her and the brows shot up.  Something turned inside.  Disgusted, Dazmond smiled horribly, as if struggling for pleasantry.  "Well... married; who'd have thought," she said.  "He treat you well?"

She shifted her weight to one side and let her gaze meander the greenery.  This was turning into a waste of time, but she knew she'd have to make good or at least make some sort of bribe before quitting this lead.  Dazmond was not about to ditch a prosperous plant farm without a napsack's-full of herb.  She tapped her booted foot idly upon a wooden bed, entertaining and abusing herself with thoughts of Bones with that little creep, Macmillan.

She hadn't left Susan with much time during which she might formulate a response to this bemused inquiry; as she liked, Daz cut to the chase.  After all, bridesmaid's catch-up was not a game she wanted a hand in.  "I was hoping for a tour," she said instead.  "See, that dratted charmer forgot to mention -- I talked to one of your delivery wizzes just the other day."  The lies came forth most naturally.  "Outside Slug & Jiggers," she said.  "I tossed him a sickle for a foot in the door.  I just want a look around, you see.  Quite surprised it's you -- really -- but I did pay the lad.  If you have a mo?  For an old friend and all?"  With that, she cocked her head and flashed a closed-mouth grin, irony all intact.

“Thank you,” Susan was pleased that Dazmond had put out the cigarette she didn’t want the smoke affect the plants near by. Susan would protect her product and if she had to she would have escorted Dazmond out of the greenhouse. “In the greenhouses we don’t smoke, it is acceptable outside the greenhouses though.” She hoped that Dazmond would understand and Susan would be quite all right with it if she went outside and had a smoke.

A soft laugh left Susan’s lips as she nodded her head, “I know who would have thought I get married,” Susan was hopeless when it came to romance at school and she was sure it was seen by the students just how hopeless she was. “He treats me well of course, it is the reason I have this place. I was the manager and the old man who owned it was retiring so Ernie bought it.” Susan could not have thanked him enough for that.

Susan was a little stunned that she had met one of her delivery boys on the job, and the fact she had named the store they had delivered to by name she had to feel it was legitimate. Still she felt like she was put on the spot, trying to think it over she took a sip of her tea she was still carrying. “Of course you can have a tour, no harm in that.” Susan figured there was no harm in a tour of her greenhouses, plus if Dazmond liked anything perhaps she could get a new client out of the little tour. “Would you like a cup of tea to take on the tour?” Susan figured she should be polite. “You don’t mind if I finish my inventory while I give you the tour?” Might as well get some work done while she was at it right?