A/N: Hi again, after all these months (years). I wrote this a while ago, but never wanted to post it because I wanted to go back and fix all the other chapters And then I never did, except for adding that one new chapter where they played with potions.

Forgive me, I am trash and you all are wonderful.

No major things changed, except I don't want Hermione to be the Education Minister candidate, but instead reform magical creature liasons.

I still want to write a completely new chapter before this ends, but I'm not sure about what. I guess we'll see!


CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO—Buggered

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The school term crawled to a close for Ron, Lavender, Ginny and Luna. Hermione and Neville found the end rushing towards them. Hermione had finished with her tests easily, was now certified to teach others the transformative art of the Animagus, opening the doors to a Transfiguration professorship (should anyone magically decide to ask). Neville felt his study time dwindle—he would be taking a Muggle botany exam on top of his N.E.W.T.s: Herbology, of course, Charms, Astronomy, Magical Creatures, Runes and Potions. Defense had been 'taken care of' by Minister Shacklebolt, and Neville was pleased to leave Stunners and hexes in the back of his mind instead of the forefront. A few of the other older students felt the same, but others, like Ron, lived the complete opposite. The world repaired itself, one charred brick at a time, but the fire could start again. Ron figured with 'Bill protecting the money, George and Ginny providing the entertainment, and Harry, 'Mione Dad, and Percy in the government, the only thing left for me to do is enforcement."

Hermione's two best friends had always been brave and admirable. Ron's Auror missions might give her an ulcer, though. She rubbed her scar through her sleeve as she took a seat in the back of the Charms classroom. A Ravenclaw/Slytherin class, by the looks of it, advanced, based on Luna's presence. She swapped notes with another Ravenclaw, the two comparing methods in hushed, but assured, tones. Hermione watched a Slytherin girl, one of the Greengrass sisters she thought, ruck up some courage to walk to Luna's desk and ask about something in the textbook.

Four years ago, Hermione would never have picked Luna for Head Girl. She hadn't really considered candidates for the year below her. She had wanted to be Head Girl herself; as a Prefect, she returned late from the library, curfew at her heels. Tall and vigilant, each shadowy alcove was cleared of miscreants. Her route took her to all the snogging corners and Fred-and-George hot spots, the higher levels of the dungeons, including the kitchen, and the Great Hall. Teachers took the Astronomy Tower, the 'breeding ground for trouble,' Professor McGonagall said. Professor Snape shortened it to simply 'breeding ground' when it was his term to work with the Prefects.

Hermione pulled a Narcissa Malfoy-face. Weeks had passed without even a sneer from him. They weren't back to normal, nor were they friends. They were nothing, not even teacher and student, since she didn't go to his class anymore. Minerva had sent out the withdrawal notes before she left the castle for her early N.E.W.T.s—the other professors congratulated her (except Professor Binns who had never known her name anyway), and she arranged times to observe classes. But Professor Snape hadn't said a thing, not even a red-ink note bemoaning the loss of her novella-length essays.

It wasn't the end of the world. The man was stubborn; his chemically-induced youth had been some fluke, a quirk in their timeline that never should've happened. Their relationship would have remained student-teacher. And if Voldemort hadn't forced her into hiding, Hermione would have spent many more hours fantasizing about the arch professor with no possibility things could change.

Professor Snape would return to his proper age and everything else would return to normal. Or as normal as Hermione could manage.

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Severus exited the dungeons' chill to find Minerva and Aurora talking in the Entrance Hall, children parting in a wide circle to get to dinner. The chill returned as Aurora met his eye and made her exeunt, not even a 'good bye' to spare for Minerva.

"What've you done to her?" Minnie asked, faint worry lines appearing near her young green eyes.

"Told her plainly she was wrong."

Minerva sighed, body angled for a frustrated tail flick. "You're killing me, boy."

They heard Filius' squeaky laugh. Miss Granger walked at his side, reading from a clipboard held close to her face since she was stooped for the professor. Something interesting in the Charms lesson, then. Hermione held the clipboard close to her lips to stifle her laugh. Filius had her full attention. They joined the crowd tumbling to the Great Hall. Minerva watched Severus to make sure he followed.

Voices clattered on either side of Severus, dishware clinking, benches scraping. Severus trod behind Minerva, feet used to the path to the Head Table, torso used to students accidentally backing into him as they selected a seat. He did not look for, nor see, Hermione. Filius sat next to Aurora, who continued to ignore him.

Someone else who was unexpectedly cold to him: Ronald Weasley.

In class, he no longer waited for Severus to sweep by to ask question. Instead, he asked Miss Lovegood, his sister, or his girlfriend for help, usually in that order, if the Ravenclaw couldn't answer. This baffled Severus—for one, if Miss Lovegood didn't know how to explain, Miss Brown likely couldn't either. And Ron had been asking Severus for help whenever he needed it just two weeks ago. When had he stopped? Why?

Hermione must have mentioned their kiss to Mr Weasley, for some unfathomable reason. It hadn't made the boy jealous enough to make him break things off with Miss Brown. If that had been the plan all along, Severus had to give Hermione credit. Very Slytherin, and very unlike her usual, straight-forward path.

He sighed after he took his seat. Nice and buggered, his life. As usual. Once he returned to his normal, scarred body, things would make sense again. Students would hate him, owls from the Prophet would cease, and Aurora would get off his back about this Hermione business. And the chill in his stomach would be gone.