Summary: There will be 31 days of mayhem, but I'm not sure there will be 31 actual stories. That would require more brain than Corvus has.

Beta Love: Dragon and the Cold Water Bottle Torture, Dutchgirl01 the Busiest Bee that Ever Buzzed, Commander Shepard the Winter Soldier

A/N: Each story will be a separate chapter to feed my laziness and desire not to post that many new stories for the same event.

Threats

The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves.

William Penn

Prompt: "Touch her, and you'll learn exactly what is worse than death."

Neville walked into the recovery room set aside by the Ministry after the Arbourmancy demonstration and spotted who he was looking for sprawled upon a green velvet fainting couch in the almost-shadows of the room.

It just wasn't fair.

It had been HIS bloody curse, and she had taken it and made it "useful" and now she was super popular and being lauded as some sort of plant whisperer.

She had stolen it.

It belonged to him!

So what if he had begged the gods to take it away.

So what if he had thought it was a curse!

So what if he'd—he'd—forced it onto her in a fit of angry magic—

Now the Ministry arboretum was green and flourishing with beautiful fountains and countless trees and shrubs, flowers and—

People were lauding her as a master of the long-forgotten art—

Hermione screamed in terror as the venomous tentacula suddenly rose up and engulfed her with its tendrils. Her body was wrapped up tight as the beastly plant pulled her deep into its vines and leaves. Their fellow students ran screaming for Professor Sprout.

And Neville stood there with a huge smile plastered on his face.

Finally, he was free of that stupid plant-loving curse!

Finally, he was free of her constant nagging and correcting and badgering!

Neville shook off the memory and scowled.

This was all her fault.

He would bloody well be taking back what was rightfully his.

He saw Hermione there sleeping peacefully, and his ire rose.

He scowled at her, looking all pale and sweaty like she'd actually been working hard.

It was all for show.

He took the amulet that his late mum had been wearing—the only thing she'd managed not to lose—having realised that it was a reliquary of sorts for their family magic. If he'd had that like he was supposed to, then he'd never have struggled with it!

So he was going to take his power back because Hermione certainly didn't need it. She was so full of knowledge and herself, she could go and find something else to become popular for!

He opened the front of the tree locket, and a powerful suction seemed to pull on everything in the room. It pulled wisps of green from Hermione's body and drew them into itself.

He smiled broadly as he closed the latch on the locket and placed it around his neck. His inheritance was right back where it belonged!

He glared at the still sleeping Hermione, his wand twitching in his hand. He should give her a piece of his mind—

"Touch her, and you'll learn exactly what is worse than death."

Neville felt the reaction deep within his body. Instinctive. Panicked. Horrified.

He saw pale hands steepled in the dark.

How had he missed it?

How had he—

"Snape," Neville hissed. "You don't scare me."

"I'm not the one you should be worried about," Snape said, his impossibly dark eyes seeming to take in all the light in the room. "Take your little curse and leave, Longbottom. Otherwise, do continue what you were about to do, and I will personally tear you to pieces."

Snape scowled at him, and his eyes glowed ominously in the dark of the room. "With my teeth."

"Neville, what the hell are you do—" Harry exclaimed as he poked his head in. "This is the recovery room!"

Neville stiffened, tucked his wand in his trouser pocket, and stormed past Harry, leaving the room with a huff. "Nothing."

Harry sighed and walked into the room, kneeling by Hermione with a softened expression. "Is she okay, sir?"

Severus closed his eyes. "Communion with the Earth can be quite draining. She will be fine, given adequate rest with her familiars."

A phosphorescent plant cat and a plant wolf kneaded and snuffled her respectfully, the cat curling up under her arm and the wolf resuming his watch from under the fainting couch, somehow miraculously fitting under it by some strange defiance of physics.

Hermione mumbled softly, and Severus pulled the extra-fluffy Lethifold over her. She murmured and took his hand, dragging it into the cuddle with her.

Snape tutted and shook his head. "Insufferable."

The fainting couch turned into a large oak tree, its roots and branches having cradled her in a nest-like construction now that the glamour had dissipated.

Hermione opened her eyes sleepily and tugged on Snape's sleeve. "Nap with me."

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Harry asked, his face scrunched up with concern.

"Just really tired, Harry," Hermione replied with a soft smile. "The tree is helping me recover."

"What was it that Neville took?" Harry asked, frowning.

Severus shook his head. "What existed only within his mind. Everything else occurred naturally due to Hermione's bond with nature—a contract borne of the desperation for nature to be understood and for a young witch to live and be understood much the same."

"Because of Neville," Harry suggested.

Severus shrugged. "Neville. Life—who can say?"

Harry sighed. "Do you wish to press charges?"

Hermione shook her head. "The Wizengamot cannot judge such a thing," she said. "Only the gods."

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Hermione tutted. "I'm fine. Go to the party and schmooze. I know you privately enjoy watching Ginny stick her foot in her mouth after guzzling the spiked punch."

Harry sputtered with laughter. Then he took her hand and squeezed it. "I'll see you after this?"

"I'm sure sometime," Hermione assured him.

Harry smiled at her, nodded to Severus, and swept from the room, closing the door behind him.

Severus let out a long sigh, and the hidden crown of metal and gemstones glowed on his head as he summoned his bident to him. "Are you quite through playing with the mortal realm, my love?"

"Don't you like the new arboretum?" Hermione asked around an impressive yawn.

"I think it is a vast improvement, but I much prefer the Land of the Dead and you, my Queen, in my arms and in my bed."

Hermione smiled at him and allowed her husband to cradle her into his arms. She tucked herself against his black robes and smiled as he carried her. An arch of runes formed into the stone wall, and Hades, Lord of the Underworld, walked through it, carrying his loving and all too charitable wife Home with Him.

Far off, and some time later, Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest, clipped leaves off her silent Screaming Artichoke plant before plucking a choice artichoke from the branches.

"That's what you get, impertinent child, for messing with My Daughter."

The Screaming Artichoke whimpered, the vague face of a certain young wizard reflected in the curves of the plant's stem.

Demeter looked down at the plant with little pity, sniffed and walked away, carrying a basket loaded with fresh vegetables back to her home.