A/N: Totally off-the-cuff, here...inspired by a comment by casira in copperbadge's LJ, related to the epic fanfic Stealing Harry. It sparked a somewhat interesting discussion, in spite of the flakiness of the drabble itself.
The comment: "As for Snape, it's great how he manages to be obnoxious and do the right thing at the same time. *snerk*"
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Pomona Sprout, and all their associates are characters belonging to J.K. Rowling. I claim no rights to them, their surroundings, or their situations. Much to my sorrow.
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Pomona Sprout woke with a start. It was early...very early...and someone was pounding loudly on her door. "Professor! Professor Sprout! Are you there?"
Oh, someone's House points are about to hit the negatives! she fumed silently, pulling on her dressing gown and staggering to the door. How anyone could engineer a botanical emergency at two o'clock a.m. was beyond her...then again, there had been that couple a few years back who'd snuck into the greenhouse for a bit of illicit snogging, picked the wrong spot to do it, and wound up hanging upside down and half-naked among the tentacula...
"All right, all right! Who the hell is it?" she snarled, yanking open the door.
Severus Snape--who had graduated two years prior, what on earth was he doing here??--was pacing the hallway outside, panting as though he had just run some distance, and about as agitated as she had ever seen him.
Sprout blinked. Young Snape had always been rather haughty and protective of his dignity (shame he'd so often managed to have it misplaced for him,) so it was with some surprise that she identified the expression he wore tonight as...sheepish. Underneath the panic, that is.
He stopped and turned at the question, and blurted out miserably, "I'm the clod who just blew up all the flowers for the Potter-Evans wedding..."
"WHAT?!"
FIN