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Harry Potter felt his right eye twitch. Two weeks into his fifth years at Hogwarts and he was already considering homicide. The year was just not going his way. With Professor Dumbledore’s new hobby of completely ignoring him, Professor Umbridge being an absolute terror, Professor McGonagall dismissing his concerns entirely, Professor Snape bullying Neville and himself to an unprecedented degree, and the other teachers sitting uselessly on their arses and twiddling their thumbs, was it really any wonder that Harry was done?
Harry roughly sat at Gryffindor table by himself. Ron and Hermione were rather disappointing friends in his opinion. They had disappointed him with their little letter stunt, so he wasn’t really speaking with them. He truly doubted that they noticed, however, with all their little spats that they were so fond of. Knowing that they had spent the entire summer with Sirius while he was stuck with the Dursley’s was the final straw. He couldn’t just stop talking with them, but he found himself slowly backing away from their lives.
He didn’t want to chat with the other Gryffindors either. The constant switching between adoration and disgust from his peers was getting old. Having no one believe him wasn’t a novel experience, but by Merlin was it irritating. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom were probably the only people in the castle that he didn’t want dead.
Across the table he could hear Hermione whining about how unfair the new Defense Professor was for the sixteenth time. She said she didn’t like how her learning was being stolen from her. Harry found it ridiculous. The Ministry wasn’t running a smear campaign against her, nor had every Defense Professor tried to kill her. He wasn’t throwing a bloody tantrum, so he didn’t see her point.
She kept complaining all through lunch, occasionally glancing at him pointedly. She and the whole of Gryffindor House clearly expected him to do something about the pink-obsessed witch, barring Neville of course. He had no plans to do anything though; they could solve their own problems. Harry wasn’t going to be their brash savior, not when they all treated him so terribly.
Harry raised his head to look over at the Head Table and scowled. Snape had been much harsher this year: with constant insults and purposely failing him. Droning on and on about how he was just like his father, a spoiled brat who tormented others and struggled to do anything worthwhile. Harry honestly thought that was a tad farfetched.
As Harry was musing over Snape’s insults and behavior, he was struck with an idea. A terribly wonderful idea. Why not prove Snape right, and be the spoiled brat the man claimed he was?
After all, Harry had excellent role models in Dudley and Malfoy, and he had all of that money laying around doing absolutely nothing. His lips curled up into a smile, this was going to be incredibly fun.
*****
After another grueling DADA Lesson, Harry skipped to the greenhouses, humming a jaunty tune, as he searched for Neville and Luna. He found them in Greenhouse 2, transplanting a beautiful blue hydrangea in an enchanted pot made to care for the plant inside of it.
“Hello!” Harry chirped, still glowing from his genius.
“Hey Harry, what’s got you so excited?” Neville mumbled as he finished patting down the soil. He smiled when Harry handed him a watering can, before gently sprinkling the Hydrangea.
“Hello Harry Potter,” Luna smiled peacefully.
“I had a brilliant idea! So, you know Snape, right? Well, he’s constantly telling me I’m a spoiled brat, exactly like my father and all that rot. So... I decided the best thing to do would be to show him what a real brat was!” He beamed at his friends and waited for them to wrap their heads around his wonderful idea.
They stared at Harry for a minute, before sharing a concerned glance. Neither of them thought that this would end well.
“Oh, come on guys! It won’t be that bad! You can even get revenge for all the stupid things people do and say!”
“Well, Harry, if you think this will work, then we’re with you all the way. And things often go well for you in the end.” Neville grinned.
“That’s true, Harry. I’m sure that everything will go splendidly.”