John's eyebrows arched expressively. "Well, that'd be a right stupid thing for me to do, now wouldn't it? Seeing as how it's a weapon an' all and I don't know you from a hole in the ground." He examined the finely-crafted object curiously, but was very careful not to bring it too close to his face. "Wouldn't fret too much though, champ. Since you asked so nice, you'll likely get it back before we part company."

He lit a cigarette and turned to regard the plants balefully. "You say you're doing Crowley a favor? So'm I, as it happens. Funny ol' world, innit?" He paused to exhale a cloud of smoke at the plants, watching with satisfaction as the English ivy waved its leaves and managed, without benefit of a face or a voice, to convey its disgust and distress. "I was hoping there'd be a clue around here as to who doused the place, but so far all I've found is dry-rotting carpet and a bunch of homicidal houseplants."

He paused for a moment, regarding Draco speculatively from the corner of his eye. Magic wands, huh. I wonder...

"Somebody must have woke 'em up and given 'em these guns. I wonder what's got 'em so hacked off, though. Too bad they can't talk," he added casually.