A/N: Many years ago, long before Harry Potter was a twinkle in JKR's eye, I read that to ensure the magical potency of herbs they needed to be harvested in a certain way.
"I set all the pots on the floor for you Dearie." Pomona said and patted Severus on the shoulder as she left the staff room. Severus nodded, appreciating the consideration of his colleague.
"Ah, yes. The mandrakes are ready to be harvested," Dumbledore said overhearing Pomona said. "When do you think the draughts will be ready for Madame Pomfrey?"
"By the end of next week, Sir," Severus replied.
"Oh," Dumbledore said disappointed. "That long?"
Severus didn't reply he had fifth year potions with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Lack of appreciation for the lengths he went through to ensure the highest quality of materials for Hogwarts was nothing new. Yes, Sprout had some notion but he didn't see her getting up at midnight to help him.
The rest of the day unfolded uneventfully, a few points taken her and there but nothing to write home about. Sitting at dinner Severus picked at his food, knowing what he had to do tonight always went better on an empty stomach. After his curfew check on the Slytherins he headed down to his office where he changed into a loose robe.
Five minutes before midnight Severus was in the greenhouse. True to her word all of the mandrake pots were on the ground. Setting down his tools, he picked up a pocket watch, two minutes till midnight. He put in a pair of ear plugs and ear muffs, one minute till midnight. Looking around quickly, more out of modesty, he took of his robe. Under the moonlight his pale naked body glowed, looking once more at the watch. Midnight exactly.
Severus set his boline on the ground and bent over. Kicking off the ground he took a moment to stabilize himself on his hands. Swatting his boline over to the closet pot, he walked on his hands over to it.
Balancing precariously on one hand he pulled the mandrake out of the pot. Its deadly scream was cut short as Severus cut off its head. Swatting the boline down to the next pot he walked on his hands over to it, ready to repeat the process.
The things I do for this school, he thought as he pulled out the second mandrake.