Harry and Ron clattered down the stone stairs and raced over to Hermione and the other students waiting outside the door to Professor Snape's dungeon. They leaned on each other, gasping for breath. "Whew, almost late again!" Hermione exclaimed. "You're lucky you weren't seen. That would have cost Gryffindor points for sure!" Harry smacked at Ron. "We were researching the ingredients for the Potions quiz today and Ron was supposed to remind us when it was time to leave!" Ron ducked and grinned. "Well, we got here, didn't we?" Just then, the ominous form of black-robed Professor Snape descended the stairway. "Step aside, step aside. Ms. Granger, you are blocking the door. I certainly hope you Gryffindors are prepared for the quiz. I know the students from my house won't disappoint me." He pointedly glared at Hermione. "Ms. Granger, since you seem to be quite the eager beaver today, I'm sure you won't have any problem getting all of the required ingredients out of the supply cupboard and distributing them, will you? We'll see how much you think you know." As soon as the wooden portal swung wide, Hermione made a beeline for the cupboard and began to take out a myriad of multi-colored vials and gracefully shaped bottles. The rest of the students hurriedly took their places. They could hear her muttering to herself, "Nux vomica, Tincture of Aconite, Boric Acid." Suddenly there was silence. Hermione's face looked absolutely stricken. Professor Snape became aware of the lack of activity at the cabinet and looked up. "Well, foolish girl, what is it? Are you finished or aren't you?" "Pardon me, Professor, but one of the ingredients that we need is. um. well." "What is it? Speak, or you'll be squeezing bubotuber pus after class!" "Well, sir, you're out of St. Luke's Wort." Silence. Then... "WHAT? IM-possible! Get out of my way, girl." Professor Snape snatched the glass-stoppered vial from Hermione and violently shook it out over the nearest wooden desk. A few miniscule shreds of some dried herb tipped out and scattered across the wood, but that was all. Harry and Ron didn't even dare glance at each other. They had never seen Snape so enraged. His upper lip curled, his face was deathly pale except for two blooms of scarlet on his cheeks, and they could practically see smoke coming from his ears as he descended upon the students. Just as his mouth opened, no doubt to launch into one of his famous diatribes, the infuriated professor was interrupted by a sudden outburst of laughter from the hall. The great dungeon door stood ajar, and through it Gryffindors and Slytherins alike could just make out the form of Peeves, gleefully bouncing from wall to wall. Giggling, Peeves wiggled his derriere in their direction and zoomed off. "PEEVES! The Headmaster shall hear of this, mark my words! This will be the end of you yet, Peeves!" Snape shook his finger at Peeves' rapidly retreating behind. "Enough of this," he said, bringing his arm across his face and wiping his hair back. "I never thought I would ever say this, but today's quiz is cancelled. We cannot complete the potion without St. Luke's Wort." The pure joy in Ron's face was mirrored in Harry's and Hermione's as well. "HOW-ever," Snape continued, as Ron's face fell, "in lieu of the quiz, who can tell me where St. Luke's Wort is found? Anyone? Or did no one do the preparation research I assigned?" As expected, Hermione's arm shot up, but less expected were Ron and Harry's arms also rising. Professor Snape's eyebrows crept up his forehead. "Really, Weasley, I'm actually amused. Are you claiming to know the answer or do you have a cramp in your arm?" Ron flushed and started to stammer, "No, sir, I mean yes, sir, I mean, Bermuda, sir." "Astonishing. Your answer is correct. Although a more complete answer would be in Paget Marsh on Bermuda. St. Luke's Wort only grows on the north side of Olivewood Bark trees, which are endemic to Bermuda. The herb must be picked fresh and processed immediately. It is not a simple task, and to ensure the purity of the finished product, I trust no one else to do it." He sighed. "Unfortunately, this prank of Peeves' has caused more damage than he knows. Now I must go to Bermuda myself to retrieve more samples of St. Luke's Wort." Snape closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "This is most inconvenient. Bermuda is positively overrun with Muggles at this time of year. I believe this influx of visitors is called 'tourist season.' The sheer numbers of Muggles makes it impossible to apparate anywhere on the island without being noticed. And arranging for a portkey will take entirely too long. I will have to find another way to get there." Harry's arm slowly rose again. "What is it, Potter? I don't have time for any of your cheek today." "Well, sir, you could fly there. In an airplane, I mean." Hermione's head whipped to the side as she quickly turned to stare at Harry. "How's that, Potter? In a what?" "In an airplane, sir. Muggles do it all the time. I'm sure between Hermione and myself, we could figure out how to book you a flight to Bermuda." Over in the Slytherin group, mutterings quickly began, and Harry could make out the words "muggle raised" and "mudblood" without much difficulty. He chose, however, to ignore the murmuring and remained silent. "If I weren't so incredibly besieged with other necessary projects, I wouldn't even begin to entertain the thought. However, these being difficult times, and as I am definite dire straits without the herb. Oh, I know I'll regret this, but. go ahead. Speak to Headmaster Dumbledore and then make the necessary arrangements. Class is dismissed." Ron caught up with Hermione and Harry as they left the dungeon. "Are you two sure you know what you're doing?" he asked. "Ron, believe me, this will all be worth it." Harry's grin left Ron with more questions than answers, while Harry and Hermione ran off to speak to Professor Dumbledore. Later that week, after many owls had traveled back and forth between Hogwarts and Hermione's parents' home, the details were all arranged. A passport was conjured, tickets arrived - again, via Hermione's folks and owl post - and everything seemed set. All that was left was. "What do you mean, I have to wear Muggle clothes?" Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was present at this final briefing. "Certainly, Severus. You didn't think that you could blend in with Muggles in a tropical clime in such, um, severe attire, did you?" Professor Snape looked down at his signature jet-black cloak. "What's wrong with this? This is a perfectly serviceable robe." "Severus, it just won't work. You need to look more, well, native." Harry and Hermione glanced at each other. Hermione's eyes widened as she realized what Harry was about to do. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head, but Harry cocked one eyebrow and gave her a roguish grin. "Professor." Harry began. "Yes, Harry," replied Professor Dumbledore. "I believe I can help." ++++++++++++++ Back in the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry, Ron and Hermione laughed until the tears streamed from their eyes. "Oh, oh, oh, I can't stand it." Ron rolled back and forth on the floor. "Couldn't you have borrowed Colin's camera? I would pay dearly to have a photo of THAT!" "Oh, sure, I could just see it. 'Just a quick photo for posterity, Professor. You don't mind, do you?'" Harry let out a loud guffaw. His sides ached, but he relished the laughter. He knew he would pay dearly for what he had done. For now, though, it was truly worth it. For there, on the Hogwarts platform, waiting for the train to take him to London, stood Professor Severus Snape. resplendent in an almost audibly loud Hawaiian shirt, plaid knee-length shorts, black polyester socks that only Dobby could love, and brown leather sandals. His lank black hair was pushed behind his ears, and his face wore an indescribable scowl. His lips were barely moving as he muttered. "I'll get Potter for this, don't you doubt it for a second. He'll rue the day he ever came to Hogwarts."



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