Watch who's comin at you! Characters: Faelan, Neville, Gawain and Nimue Summary: Odd things are happening at the nursery.
Neville rushed into the attic and began throwing things into the twins' changing bag. There was no hope for it. Gran had to visit her ill friend, and he would have to take the twins to work with him. While he knew that Faelan was good at managing on his own, Neville felt the boy had been left to carry the work load too often of late, and frankly, if Luna's travels were going to be a regular thing, Neville was going to have to get better at balancing looking after the twins with work.
He also didn't want to stay at home because he was worried about the recent behaviour of some of the plants. The pansies had been getting aggressive, and the Pitcher Plant hadn't even bothered lifting its head when Neville had strayed too close yesterday. Neville was concerned that the plants were suffering from some new kind of pest or rot, and worried that it might be something that would bring all his research on organics to waste. He had to go into the nursery today - he just hoped that between him and Faelan they would be able to keep the twins out of trouble.
He finished packing their changing bag, and then hurriedly dressed the twins against the cool temperatures they would encounter at the nursery. Gawain seemed to sense that Daddy was not in the mood, because he let himself be dressed with no fuss. Soon they were ready to go: Gawain settled in a sling against Neville's chest; Nimue cuddled close to her brother in one of Neville's arms; and the changing bag tightly gripped in Neville's free hand. Concentrating hard, Neville Apparated, and let out a huge sigh of relief when he opened his eyes and found that they had made it to the plant nursery safely.
They had landed more or less in the middle of the nursery, outside on the stretch of lawn that Faelan and he often took their breaks on. "Faelan?" he called, eyes searching the grounds and the entrances to the greenhouses for sight of his assistant.
Faelan was nearing the end of his morning watering rounds when he heard Neville, and it was with some relief that he pulled off his gloves and pushed open the swinging door to the lawn. It wasn't like Neville to be late without letting him know something was going on, and the man had seemed a bit distracted the past few days. He'd been debating a floo call, but then the normally docile Laurustinus had spit water back at him, and he was still wiping his face with his sleeve when he emerged on the lawn and called out a greeting.
"Hey! There you are, I was getting worried about--" Raising an eyebrow, Faelan stopped short, taking in Neville's frazzled appearance and the squirming twins in his arms. "What's wrong? Isn't your grandmother watching them while Luna's gone?"
"Her friend's ill and Luna's parents had already gone out for the day," Neville explained. "Can you take Nimue for me?" he asked, not waiting for an answer before holding his daughter out. Nimue seemed to be happy to be given over to Faelan's care as she eagerly reached out for Faelan as she was passed over. "Let's go to the office and see what we can fix up for these two. I've got to feed them before anything else. How have the plants been so far? I am really beginning to worry about the pansies. Were they aggressive this morning?"
"Uh, they seemed a bit on edge," Faelan replied, staring down at the bundle of giggles that was suddenly wiggling in his dirty arms. "They were swiping at each other. Hi, you," he told Nimue quietly, shifting his arms to keep hold of her as she leaned far over in an attempt to grasp the shears that were sticking out of his pocket. "Oh no, that's not for you," he said, balancing her precariously in one arm just long enough to move the sharp item to his back pocket instead. In response, she blew spit bubbles at him.
"Nice manners!" he teased her, even though he knew she didn't understand. "Do I have a target on my face today or something?" he asked, using his shoulder to wipe his cheek. Nimue gave a laugh as if to say, "Yes! A big one!" and proceeded to babble loudly at her brother. "The Laurustinus spit at me too," he told Neville, frowning as he followed his boss to the office. He knew it was his job to do whatever Neville asked, and he certainly didn't mind working or helping his friend out, but he really didn't know if the twins being here was such a good idea. The nursery was full of dangerous stuff and, besides, Neville only had one set of arms, but he had two babies. While Nimue seemed to like Faelan well enough, he knew there was a big difference between willingly letting a kid spit on you, and having them need you for stuff.
"You know I'm not good with babies, right?" he asked. He didn't want Neville to think he could be trusted with his flesh and blood as easily as he could be counted on to water a few plants and reconcile some invoices. The truth was, he wasn't quite sure it wasn't some shoddy work on his part that was making the plants act strangely, and if he couldn't even keep some foliage healthy, how could he be counted on to not inadvertently poison a baby or something? "I don't want to accidentally kill your kid, you know. I kind of like working here."
Neville chuckled at Faelan's comment as they entered the office. He dropped the changing bag on the divan, which he had kept in there after moving out in case of emergencies and plain exhaustion. He was glad of it now as he cast a few barrier charms and then lowered Gawain onto the mattress of the temporary play pen. "It's all right," he reassured Faelan. "She can sit with Gawain now - she was just getting too heavy for me to carry with everything else. The downside of them growing up so quickly, I guess." He quickly set about making the twins' breakfast from the supplies he had chucked into their changing bag.
"I'm sorry I had to bring them with me," he apologised, "but I ran out of options and I didn't want to stay away when the plants are acting up like this. I'm going to have to spend most of the day in the office keeping an eye on them, but I'll take a look at the Pitcher Plant and the Laurustinus. It spat at you?" Neville frowned. "Godric knows what's causing this. It has to be something new. I've never seen such a widespread reaction. Normally it's clear which pest or disease it is because of the plants it affects, but this is indiscriminate."
Neville cautiously heated up one of the bottles of milk he had brought with him. He had been heating milk the Muggle way the past couple of days because of another accident with his heating and cooling charms, but it wasn't really an option at the nursery. He was relieved when the charm worked as it should.
He froze in the process of stirring the milk into the twins' cereal and made a quiet noise of discovery. "Maybe that's it," he muttered. "The plants playing up the worst are those with higher innate magic. Ah, but maybe I'm just trying to talk myself out of thinking it's down to the organics..."
"Maybe what's it?" Faelan asked, turning his head so that Nimue could pull at his chin instead of his earring. She had settled down in his arms as she seemed to decide that his face was as good a toy as any, so he let her continue grabbing at his skin as long as she was content. He didn't exactly mind holding her. The babies were very small and cute and he found it easy to smile when they looked up at him and made happy noises. He just didn't want to do anything wrong that might hurt them or make Neville angry. But as long as he was keeping Nimue from crawling around and Neville didn't think he was doing anything wrong, he thought he'd be okay continuing to hold her until Neville was done feeding Gawain. In the meantime, he perched on a nearby chair and held tight to Nimue so she wouldn't crawl off his lap.
"You think there's some kind of disease that only affects the more magical plants? I know there's that Corippa-whatsit fungus thing that can do that, but all the plants I've checked out look clean and otherwise healthy. Not that I know as much as you about what I'm looking at, but nothing seems off to me."
Neville nodded along with what Faelan was saying, pleased to hear that Faelan was picking things up so well. "I think the problem is with their innate magic rather than anything else. The problem and question is why? My own magic has been playing up recently, so I'm worried that it might be something that we've done."
He frowned at the sparkling barrier he had put around the divan. It seemed fine, and his heating charm had worked. The problem with his magic, and the behaviour of the plants, was that it was so erratic. If it was a fungus or a disease, some sort of progression would manifest itself. "I don't think it's because we've been growing the plants without magic, but it might be one of the symbiotic creatures we've been using." Neville sighed heavily. "But that doesn't feel right either. Can't work on instinct alone, though. As much as I don't think it's anything we've done, I'm going to have to examine the plants myself."
He put down the spoon he had been feeding Gawain with throughout this conversation, and gave his son a kiss on the cheek for behaving so well. "Here, swap," he said to Faelan, reaching for Nimue. He settled back in his chair, and began feeding his daughter. He glanced up after a moment and laughed at the way Faelan was frowning down at Gawain, who was offering his cheek. "That means he wants a kiss," Neville explained, grinning. "Don't think you're special, though. He just likes the attention. I worry about what he's going to be like when he's older."
Deep in thought, Faelan didn't protest switching kids, but he did do a double-take at Neville when he told him what Gawain wanted. "He wants a what?" he asked, taken aback. "From me? But I'm all...you know, dirty and smelly..." Faelan looked down at the baby and wondered if the kid would get upset and start screaming if he didn't get his kiss. The plants were already acting strangely, and he didn't think they'd react well to a screaming baby. Besides, the kid had just eaten. He didn't want him getting all worked up and hurling in his lap or something.
So, because he had no choice, he bent down and placed a quick kiss on Gawain's tiny cheek. The baby smelled like talc and bananas, and his skin was shockingly soft and warm. Blushing furiously, Faelan felt like he may as well have rubbed mud on the kid, but Gawain just let out a babbling shriek and waved his arms around, so he reckoned he'd done the right thing.
"Anyway," Faelan said, staring down to make sure Gawain didn't try to squirm away, "you know I'm just learning magic. And I'm not very good at it. What if I did something wrong around here and messed things up? I haven't used any magic on the plants," he quickly added, knowing how important the organic research was to Neville, "but maybe it's just...well, I don't know, but something about me. My magic." Faelan knew he couldn't expect to be perfect at magic right away, but if he'd somehow messed things up in the nursery, he'd never forgive himself.
Neville shook his head. "Don't worry, I'm certain it's nothing to do with you. Or me, for that matter." He smiled wryly. "There's no point second guessing, anyway." He wiped Nimue's mouth, and then placed her within the temporary play pen. He then reached for Gawain, saying to his son, who was looking up at Faelan with puckered lips, "I don't think Faelan wants a kiss back." He submitted to the kiss himself, and rewarded Gawain with another in return before lowering him next to his sister.
"They'll be happy for a little while, at least," he told Faelan as he emptied some toys from the changing bag onto the divan. "Until they need changing that is. I don't expect you to babysit for me, and it's not your job to," he went on, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment at the situation. "But if you could work on the plants close to the office, and pop your head in from time to time while I take a proper look around, I'd appreciate it."
"Yeah, sure," Faelan answered, staring at the babies, who were looking expectantly up at him. "No problem." Pop my head in to do what? he wondered. Safely ensconced in Neville's charm, he felt pretty sure the babies couldn't get into any trouble, but he also felt the grip of slight panic at the idea of Neville leaving him alone. "There's the, uh, Dandy Lions right outside that need pruning, so I can just drag them in here one at a time."
"That sounds good," Neville agreed. "I'll try not to take too long looking around." He gave Nimue a peck on the top of her head, and placed a more showy kiss on Gawain's cheek. "Behave for Faelan, you two. Daddy will be back soon." He gave Faelan one last apologetic smile and hurried off toward the Hot House to check on how the Pitcher Plant was behaving.
In a blink, Neville was gone and Faelan was left with the responsibility for two living mini-humans. But the twins seemed happy enough, not even crying for their father when he left, and babbling as they jointly shook a big jingly soft toy. Darting out for just a minute, Faelan hefted up the nearest Dandy Lion and carried it back to Neville's desk. It wasn't that easy keeping one eye on his shears and his other on the children, and he felt a growing sense of awe at the very idea of parenting. He'd seen Neville and Luna in a harried moment or two, but they always came out the other end looking completely cool and collected. He knew if it was him, his kids would be filthy and screaming all the time, and he'd look like the worst parent in Britain. However, it was fun to watch them talk to each other in their own private language and to see them giggle when they shook their toy just the right way to make it laugh and shriek at them.
Faelan finished working on the first Dandy Lion and was in the process of pruning the second one when he noticed that Nimue had lost interest in the toy and was bouncing her arms up and down in his direction instead. He wondered if she wanted to be picked up, but he was sticky with plant goo and had one hand full of dead leaves.
"You're okay," he told her, trying to sound cheerful. "You're happy right there and you have your brother and that...uh, really cool stuffed thing right there that I don't know the name of, and don't look like that, okay?" Nimue was frowning, staring intently at Faelan, and he was afraid that she'd start to cry any second. "Your daddy will be right back and then he'll play with you-"
In the middle of his pathetic attempt at trying to keep Nimue calm, he felt a powerful flutter against his hand. Startled, he opened it, and while moments ago he'd only been holding some brown Dandy Lion parts, a whole cloud of moths flew out of his hand, flapping up toward the ceiling.
Nimue stared silently up at them, while Gawain, thoroughly entertained, cried out with glee.
"Merlin's balls in a paper sack..." Faelan muttered toward the ceiling, then glanced guiltily back at the babies. "Sorry," he told them. "You didn't hear me say that-"
As quickly as they came, the moths froze in mid-air, falling down on Faelan's shoulders in a rain of dead flower parts. Astonished, he stared at Nimue, belatedly remembering what Neville had told him of his daughter's little trick. "You turn plants into flying objects and I can't even transfigure a twig into a wooden spoon. Unreal." Nimue giggled and Faelan stooped down to scoop up the mess.
*
Neville pushed open the door to the Hot House and quickly had to shrug out of his coat as he was assailed by the humidity. Draping the coat over one of the many old deck chairs that had colonised the nursery, he walked along the paths that wound through the thick foliage. It was really starting to resemble a tiny rainforest with all the plants he had managed to find and had been sent by his contacts across the globe. He paused here and there, crouching down to run his fingers over waxy leaves, or reaching up to check the strength of a creeper. Just as Faelan had already reported, there was nothing showing externally to suggest that there was anything wrong with the plants, but Neville could feel that something was wrong. Even when the Snape Dragons gleefully snapped at his ankles as they usually did, and a mild variety of Devil's Snare swiped playfully at his head, he couldn't shake off his unease.
He and Faelan had both observed the sudden changes in behaviour some of the plants had gone through, and Neville wasn't such a fool as to think that appearances counted for anything if the problem really was rooted in magic. Frown deepening, he wound his way towards the Pitcher Plant's lair. It had been hardest hit by whatever was going on, becoming sluggish and docile, even when it had no chocolate in its system. While the other plants seemed to have perked up again, Neville saw immediately that the Pitcher Plant was still being affected by whatever was wrong. Its head drooped woefully, and didn't twitch in response to Neville's cautious approach.
Neville examined the Pitcher Plant closely, being careful not to make any sudden movements that might snap the Pitcher Plant out of its funk and prompt it to take his head off. Again, he could find no black spots, no tell-tale holes that might give him a clue as to what was going on. Thoughtfully, he retreated backwards, and crouched down amongst the Charma Cataractarum which were a safe distance from the Pitcher Plant. While the magical cat palms nuzzled gently against his hands, Neville watched.
*
After Nimue's delightful show, Faelan kept an even closer eye on the twins, until he was distracted enough from what he was doing that he snapped right through a healthy Dandy Lion stalk.
"Shite!" he exclaimed, pointlessly trying to stick the thing back in place only to watch it fall off again. "I'm telling your daddy that's your fault!" he mock-scolded at the babies, dropping it into his rubbish bin.
He didn't make a lot of mistakes like that, and he knew Neville wouldn't give him a telling off, but he still felt guilty whenever he saw the slight hint of mourning in Neville's eyes for a ruined bit of life. In this circumstance, he was sure Neville would forgive him, but he still felt like crap. "Note to self," he muttered. "Not a multi-tasker."
Turning his focus back to his work, he still found that he could only concentrate for moments at a time, too nervous that the twins would cry or hurt themselves or put something in their mouths or pull each other's hair. He knew in the smart part of his head that they were perfectly safe behind Neville's magical barrier, but he still felt anxious. Currently, Gawain was focused quite intently on the barrier itself, watching the way he could push his hand against it to make it poke out and shimmer. Faelan didn't feel too worried, but then he suddenly remembered Neville's eighth re-telling of the square-peg-in-the-round-hole story, and he frowned, wondering if Gawain would prove as cheeky as his sister and be able to push his way through the magic. Wiping his hands on a cloth, Faelan was preparing to approach the twins and scoot Gawain back further on the divan when Nimue suddenly made a strange sound. The next thing he knew, she had blatantly vanished. In her place was a swarm of moths, not unlike the ones she'd created earlier except that there were many more of them. Faelan froze, Gawain gave a little jump of surprise and whimpered, and before Faelan could even react, Gawain's hand pierced through the barrier, and he tumbled from the divan, falling straight for the floor.
With a speed that could only be explained by lycanthropic reflexes, Faelan sprang forward, arms out, and with his heart pounding madly, caught Gawain, who screamed with fright at his sudden fall. Gathering the child into his arms, Faelan's panic turned to Nimue. Moths were still swarming around, the baby nowhere to be seen, but in the midst of his shock at the idea that Nimue had transfigured herself, she suddenly reappeared, a look of utter terror on her face, and she broke down in noisy sobs as quickly as her brother.
"Okay," Faelan assured her, voice shaking as he perched on the divan, hoisting a still-crying Gawain higher on his shoulder as ran his hand over Nimue's petal-soft hair, "You're okay. You're okay."
Pushed too far, Faelan felt his composure snap, and he gave a worried yell out the door. "Neville!" Can't handle this.
*
The Pitcher Plant didn't look likely to revive itself any time soon, and Neville had other plants to check, so with a sigh he gave up on his vigil and made to stand up. He froze, still in a crouch, as an electric shiver ran up his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he was aware that the Cataractarum were no longer rubbing up against him like over-tame tabbies. There was a low hissing in the foliage surrounding him.
Lunging forwards, Neville narrowly avoided the first palm that tried to lash at his face, but it didn't save him from the vine that wrapped about his throat like a whip-crack. He fell heavily, the vine wrapping tighter, and he struggled, trying to get his fingers under the strong creeper. He let out a choked cry when a palm frond cut into his calf muscle, stinging like the worst paper-cut imaginable. He thrashed his legs, trying to shake the now vicious Cataractarum off. His wand had fallen out of his pocket when he had dodged the first attack, and he desperately tried to reach it with his finger tips, the vine all the while tightening and making his head feel like it would explode from the pressure of the blood pounding through it.
His vision had begun to cloud over, when all of a sudden, the Pitcher Plant roused itself, a horrible noise coming from it like the screaming of foxes in the night. It's massive head came at Neville, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the inevitable, images of the twins and Luna replacing the lush greenery that had all in one moment turned from tranquil to deadly.
The loud crunching sound made him open his eyes again, and he wheezed in a grateful breath as the vine about his neck suddenly went slack. Not wasting any time on trying to figure out what was going on, Neville snatched up his wand and staggered from the Hot House as quickly as his injured leg would allow.
He had just reached the crisp air outside, when he heard Faelan shout. Fearful for the twins, he sprinted back to the office, his injury numbed by a frantic burst of adrenaline.
Bursting through the doorway, Neville was relieved to see that there were only Dandy Lions there, and they looked as tranquil as they always did. However, both Gawain and Nimue were in tears. The sounds of their panic and fright, so different from any crying Neville had previous heard from them, went straight through him, and he quickly stepped forward, gathering Nimue close and cradling her protectively against his body. "What happened?" he demanded from Faelan, more roughly than he would have done had he not been so frightened for the twins' welfare. He scooped Gawain out of Faelan's grip, and cuddled a twin in each arm, kissing them both reassuringly, and letting them pull on his hair as they clung back.
"I'm sorry!" Faelan said quickly, his heart jumping into his throat at the sound of Neville raising his voice for the first time since he'd known the man. "I didn't do anything, I swear. Gawain broke your spell somehow, and he started to fall, but I caught him, and then Nimue turned into a flock of moths. I don't think they're hurt, just scared, and I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry," he said again, his chest aching at the sound of the babies' cries, his lap and arms feeling somewhat empty now that the children were held safely by their father.
"What happened to you?" Faelan asked hesitantly, only now noticing that Neville was bleeding and dirty. His heart landed back in his chest and began to pound. His instincts told him that Neville's disheveled state did not bode well for the health of the plants he'd gone to check on.
Hearing Faelan's panicked tone Neville wanted to hug him, too, but his arms were fully occupied. He slumped back against the divan's pillows, and loosened his hold on the twins just enough to rub their backs soothingly while they laid against his chest and got the shock out of their systems. "I didn't mean to snap at you," Neville told Faelan quietly. "Thank you. It sounds like Gawain would have hurt himself if you hadn't caught him." He let out a long sigh. "There's something seriously wrong with the plants. I just got attacked by the cat palms of all things, and was rescued by the Pitcher. Neither of us are working on our own anymore. We do the rounds together, or not at all. We're no longer delivering potted plants, either. Potions ingredients and cuttings are fine, but I am not handing over plants that might turn on their new owners. Not until we've figured out what's going on here."
Neville chewed on his bottom lip. Being suppliers to mostly brewing professionals, the changes wouldn't make too much of an impact on the business, but even if it would, there was no way Neville was going to risk somebody being hurt. Considering what had happened with the twins, and the problems both he and Luna, and perhaps also Faelan, had been having with their magic, he could only conclude that something at the nursery was contaminating them. He briefly considered given Faelan some paid leave, but he knew that he would need help investigating what was happening. Still, he was prompted to offer Faelan some time away.
"I'm going to take the twins home, and I want you to go home, too. I would understand if you decided you wanted to take some leave rather than coming back tomorrow. I'm not going to make you come into work when it's this unpredictable."
"Don't be stupid," Faelan replied, breathing a sigh of relief now that he could tell Neville wasn't angry at him, but feeling a gnawing sense of dread at knowing how serious the problem was and at seeing Neville hurt because of it. Getting up to fetch the first aid supplies from behind the desk, he went on. "Of course I'm coming back to work. You just said yourself that neither of us should be here alone, and until you -- until we -- figure out what's going on, you'll need me here more than ever." Because Neville was occupied holding the twins, whose cries had softened to sad little whimpers, Faelan crouched and carefully rolled up Neville's trouser leg to see where the bleeding was coming from. Flesh wounds were nothing out of the ordinary for Faelan to deal with -- not as challenging as, say, screaming infants -- so he didn't even think to ask for permission before he pressed an alcohol-soaked scrap of gauze to Neville's leg, gently clearing away enough blood to see that it was originating from a deep gash several inches long on the fleshy part of his leg.
"At the very least I can go home and write owls to all of our customers who will be affected by the situation. And I think you need a spell to heal this," he said in a low tone, seeing that Neville's wound was deep enough to take a while to heal without the intervention of magic. "But I don't know it yet. My housemates are really good at this stuff. Want me to have someone come over to your house to help you? If your magic's been affected as much as it sounds like, maybe you shouldn't try to heal it yourself." Drawing his lip between his teeth, Faelan winced as blood began to seep anew from Neville's leg, and he wondered if he'd ever be able to learn the important magic if something was, as Neville had implied, affecting them along with the plants. "I can help you home."
"Thanks," Neville said warmly. He had forgotten about his injury in his rush to protect his children. However, now his attention was brought back to it, he realised just how much it hurt and how deeply the frond had cut. "I'll owl my Gran's friend. She runs a tea shop, so she couldn't babysit, but she could probably pop over for ten minutes to sort me out. I'll ask her to bring some lunch over for us, as well. That is, if you want to stay over for a couple of hours? If you'd rather head straight home from ours, I don't mind." Neville hoped that Faelan took up the invitation, it would be good to calm down with some company other than the twins.
"No, that sounds really good," Faelan answered. Deep down, he was relieved at the invitation because it proved that Neville really hadn't meant to shout at him, but he also thought it might be a good idea to keep an eye on his friend until he could be sure Neville was all right. It was obvious that the twins could be a handful as well, and after being hurt, maybe Neville would need some help until his Gran could take over.
Sticking the gauze over Neville's wound with some Who Needs a Mediwizard Non-Stick-But-Sticky Tape, Faelan nodded in the direction of the twins. "Do you mind them going through the floo? Because I can carry one for you."
"I think we're going to have to," Neville said. "I won't risk Apparating as things stand. Here's hoping the floo powder will be all right." As he said it, Neville realised that it really wasn't funny, but they had to get home somehow.
He frowned as he suddenly realised what had been tugging on his thoughts. "Just out of interest..." he asked slowly as he sat up, the twins sliding down to sit on his lap. "How has your magic been away from the nursery? Making any progress?"
Faelan sat back, letting Neville's trouser leg down and remembering with a start how, several days ago, he'd been having problems making his levitation spell work while at the nursery, after he'd thought he'd gotten the hang of it at home. "Yeah, it's been better. I mean, my levitation wasn't perfect at home either, but it's gotten better. I think I'm learning too slowly, but Gaius says it's normal to be a bit inconsistent at first." Faelan's sense of worry deepened. What if he and Neville had caught some kind of magical illness from the plants? Worse, what if they could spread it?
"He's right," Neville assured Faelan, but he wondered just how serious their problem at the nursery was. "Well, let's get out of here for the time being," he said. "I think you'd better take Gawain. He looks in better shape than Nimue." Both twins were now sniffing quietly, but Nimue was still clinging to him as though she were afraid she might fly apart again. It broke Neville's heart that the joy of her first magic had turned against her. He hugged her close, trying to reassure her with his touch that she was safe, even as he began to wonder whether the twins' impressively early acts of magic had all along been in some way connected with what was happening.
However, they wouldn't know until he and Faelan had figured out the root of the problem, and he tried to banish it to the back of his mind as he jollied Faelan along, and threw the floo powder into the barbecue.