Hermione, the Trickster

Severus stormed towards his dungeons angrily. He longed to reach for his wand. He felt magic tingling on his fingertips. He felt like screaming. Screaming and throwing things and hitting walls and cursing someone - preferably Dumbledore.

For once, he had more plans than just brewing and experimenting in his Potions lab for the summer. This year was meant to be special. Severus wanted to work on one of his dreams, a thing he always wanted and had denied himself for so long.

As Albus rather uncouthly reminded him, Severus' plans to get back to spying on the Dark Lord's followers had failed. The Dark Mark had been growing darker and darker in the last few months. After the Pettigrew fiasco, Severus and Albus had decided it was about time Severus tried to 'reinstate some friendships'. By tentatively trying to do so, Severus had quickly found from Lucius Malfoy that his cover was irreparably blown up. Who knew that the late Quirrell had contacted Lucius after Severus had threatened him?

To be honest, Severus felt rather relieved. He was afraid to go back to spying, enduring torture, and participating in atrocities. As cowardly as it was, Severus had to admit to himself he was glad he wouldn't have to wear the Death Eaters' mask ever again.

Not having to follow the precarious role of a double-agent meant a few changes. He could come true to his Slytherins and try to save as many of them as possible, for example. The first and most important change was, however, that Severus' life expectancy rose by mile. Whilst he would be a target of the Dark side, he should be reasonably safe at Hogwarts. And in his new house, he added to himself warmly. He also should be reasonably safe in Europe, mostly untouched by previous war. People there more readily accepted his dubious past of an abolished spy. In Europe he would try to fulfill his dream.

If only he didn't have to baby-sit Harry Potter!

What the hell is Albus playing at? Severus asked himself in frustration for the umpteenth time. I don't want Potter, and Potter doesn't want me. So, why?

It didn't make any sense to force them together. Severus had noticed how Potter perked up at Lupin, or even Minerva being mentioned as possible guardians. Oh, talking about wolves and cats... there they went.

"Severus," Minerva greeted him with an expression usually saved for dragons contemplating whether or not to roast someone alive.

"You knew!" Severus accused.

"Albus informed me," she admitted. "If it is of any consolation, I tried to discourage him from the plan."

Lupin observed their exchange with incomprehension.

Suddenly, Severus was struck with an idea. He swiftly pulled out his wand and cast a charm to ensure they wouldn't be overheard.

"I have a preposition for you, Lupin." He turned to the freshly sacked werewolf.

Lupin wore a rather resigned expression in his usually irritatingly-friendly face. No doubt he expected being ridiculed. "Yes, Severus?"

"I will be in need of a baby-sitter for a few times during summer," Severus informed him, smirking, "I will be in charge of an unruly child, you understand. I will pay you well."

Minerva, Severus was disappointed to notice, just smiled. Pity. He had hoped to ruffle her fur a little bit. Lupin, also, seemed to be more bewildered than insulted. What a bore!

"I will owl you the date and time," Severus informed him without waiting for the other wizard's affirmation. With that, he strolled towards his dungeon with a parting nod to Minerva. He was sure the witch would take pity on Lupin and explain the situation.

Now in a much better mood, he went to his correspondence. He wouldn't have to cancel all his plans after all. Even better, he would be able to escape Potter's presence whenever he wanted.

ssSSss

Harry waited for Snape, sitting on his trunk with a resigned face, a broomstick in his hand, and a few ideas in his head. The best idea came – surprised, anyone? – from Hermione.

This time, Harry hadn't been told explicitly not to share the information about his holiday whereabouts. He knew Dumbledore laid the rule before Christmas and that it was still valid, but he had decided he didn't care and shared with Ron and Hermione. Dumbledore hadn't cared about his feelings either. It had been so embarrassing to be thrown on Snape like dirt nobody wanted to have!

Soon enough, the Potions teacher showed up. "Why didn't you send your luggage with Lana this time? Problems with memory at your age? Tsk, tsk."

Here we go, Harry thought, resigned to his fate two months of constant belittling. He didn't want to anger the man, though, not now with Hermione's plan to be set in motion. "Sorry, sir."

Soon they were flying, disillusioned by Snape's clever charm. Harry fingered his shrunken trunk in his pocket and cleared his throat. He prayed this worked.

"Professor Snape, I wonder... Er, I would like to ask you if I might plant a few seeds in your garden?" Harry stammered, and then nearly lost courage to continue under Snape's incredulous gaze. He hurried on. "For a Herbology extra credit study, sir."

"You and gardening, Potter?" Snape answered finally, his incredulity swiftly turning to suspicion. "I will decide when I hear your list of the plants."

Yes! Harry exclaimed inside his head. He knew the five types of seeds were fast growing plants used for healing potions (or for cooking, in some cases). Snape would have no reason to forbid them.

"Er- that was the first part of the project, to pick up quickly growing things, so I chose parsley, daisy, dead nettle, plantain plantain, and chamomile,." Harry tried his best obedient act on Snape – whose face indicated that it was okay to plant those – and he continued carefully, "The second part of the task is gathering wild growing herbs and comparing them to those I grown."

Harry hold held his breath and waited for the verdict.

Snape's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Harry thought the man might go blind, with how much he was squinting.

"You expect me to let you wander around, Potter? I don't think so. You will keep out of trouble, or else! And besides, I highly doubt you would find parsley growing wild here in the Scottish mountains."

Snape's voice wasn't as cold as it might be, Harry decided, and he tried to push a little. "I would keep near the house, really. Some of the common weeds would surely grow just behind the house. Er- not that I would steal from your herb garden."

"There is no garden yet, Potter," Snape informed him with a malicious smirk. "However, as you are so eager to garden so much, maybe I will have you start one."

Harry knew the man expected him to get angry. Why should he be, though? He enjoyed time outside, even if it meant gardening. Seeing the plants grow was pretty satisfying, too, even if they had been just Petunia's flowers. So he shrugged. "Okay. Sir."

Snape's expression gave away the wizard's surprise. He hid it fast enough, though, and to Harry's surprise, he added, "If I am satisfied with your work, I might take you with me when I go gathering plants."

"I'll do my best," Harry promised with relief. His outside time was granted. Remembering who he was talking to, he added quickly, "Sir."

God, did he really just make a deal with the biggest bastard amongst Hogwarts teachers? Did he really just lead a conversation with the overgrown bat of the dungeons? Pity he couldn't contact Hermione to let her know her plan worked.

Soon, they reached their destination. The house really was out in the middle of nowhere, just as Harry remembered it. He could see now– which he couldn't have seen in the winter darkness - that it stood near a rocky sea bay. Harry wondered how much land Snape owned. He couldn't see any fence on any side. Harry wished he could fly around a bit every day, but decided not to ask. Not now.

When inside, Snape turned to him. "You will be staying in the same room. I hope you remember the rules."

"No damage to the room, no going into your rooms, no bothering you, call Lana when hungry, sir." Harry recited, trying to appear as obedient as possible.

From Snape's expression, he could tell he was failing. "Don't anger me, Potter, or you will face my punishment." The wizard warned.

Harry tried hard not to imagine what the punishment might be, and with a heavy heart wondered how long it would take before it was delivered. Everything he did angered Snape, so it wasn't 'if' but 'when' in this case. He turned his eyes towards the polished floor of the front hall with a renewed sense of doom.

Harry expected to be dismissed by Snape, but the man asked, "I suppose you already have the potions needed for your Herbology project, Potter?"

"Er... potions?" Harry stammered. Why the hell he would need potions for Herbology? He guessed the information was in the book Professor Sprout lent him yesterday evening. He of course hadn't read it yet. But he could hardly explain to Snape that the whole 'gardening' plan was a half-baked plot to trick him.

"Ignorant as ever, just as I suspected." The older wizard's lip curled in a derisive manner. "You do realize, Potter, that even some of those fast growing plants you chose won't grow up fast enough to be harvested in time without help of a specific potion."

Harry decided not to answer. He didn't want to acknowledge Snape's insult – which was, by the way, partially valid. Harry hadn't really thought this through. Hell, even Hermione hadn't realized that eight weeks were hardly enough for any plant to mature. Or seven weeks, really, as Harry had to compare them and write the essay.

"Not very sharp, are we, Potter?" Snape teased. "Then, of course, you will need another potion to determine the plants' magical properties to compare the two sets."

Well, drat, thought Harry. He wondered if Snape would buy the potions for him if he asked very nicely. He guessed not. The git was probably only telling him all this to forbid Harry going outside, after all. Another of the Slytherin's cruel jokes. Promising him freedom and then taking it away with glee.

"Er... I guess I still can start your herb garden, then," Harry said awkwardly. It didn't help that Snape was staring at him as if he had grown himself a second head. Sure, the man wanted Harry to beg for the potions only to refuse him snidely. Well, Harry wouldn't play his foul game.

"I guess I will go to unpack, then, sir," Harry said in parting, hurrying upstairs.