Title: Be careful what you wish for
Author: happier_here

Rating: M
Book: Harry Potter
Pairing: Severus Snape – Hermione Granger. Friendship.
Summary: Not your ordinary de-aging fic. Somehow Snape turned himself into a four-year old. Hermione's only task is to make an antidote, but along the way she meets the tiny version of her scary Potions Master… and starts to like him.

Author's Notes: Parts 4-5 & epilogue will be up soon.

Slightly AU from book 6. Dumbledore wasn't sure of Slughorn's alliance. He hired Shacklebolt as the new DADA-teacher and Snape remains the Potions Master. He however has his own project…

Of father's and daughters is currently put on the backburner. It's a huge project (I basically plan to rewrite books 6-7 with a mentally stronger Harry (with Sirius' support), Dumbledore having to rewrite all of his plans, the students making their own plans and Snape coping with both a daughter and a disability), so it will take some time… bear with me .

Be careful what you wish for

Although it was a cold January day, the sun warmed Hermione on their first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Harry and Ron were in front of her, chattering away and enthusiastically acting out famous Quidditch scenes. Walking next to her was Ginny. The young girl bumped her in the side with her elbow getting her to notice the way she rolled her eyes dramatically at the boys' antics. She grinned back at her, which was rather difficult as she was also nibbling away at her freshly bought Sugar Quill. Closing the ranks, Neville was giving Luna a crash course on several Herbology subjects the blonde had been grappling with.

Surrounded by her friends in this way, she couldn't help but come to the conclusion today was a great day. Off course, her good mood was also caused by the absence of Lavender Brown. Her roommate who was also Ron's girlfriend had decided to accompany the teacher/fraud Trelawney on a tarot card-buying expedition.

She snuck a glance at Ron, who was balancing on one leg and pretending to reach for a snitch. Their friendship had survived yet another test that year. She had been jealous beyond reason when the two of them became a couple. She still didn't like the way they showed their bond: often and very physically. She hadn't however let her hurt feelings destroy their friendship. During the holidays she had sent Ron a letter along with his Christmas present, apologizing for sending the conjured birds at him. He in return had only sent his usual present of candy. She had been sad about that, until she had touched Weasley-family present. Ron had jinxed the sweater to jump and engulf her in a hug. It had scared the living daylights out of her parents, but it had showed her something she had subconsciously known before: she would always want Ron in her life.

"Let's go to the Three Broomsticks." She suggested out loud. "I'll buy you lot a drink."

Minutes later they were all sat around a table in the tavern, butterbeers in hand. Harry proposed a toast, smiling widely: "To Hermione, our generous friend."

"Not that I'm complaining about a free drink," Ron spoke, his usual blunt self, "but, what's the occasion?" His eyes suddenly widened in shock: "It isn't your birthday, is it?"

While Hermione rolled her eyes, someone (probably his sister) stomped on his foot.

"It's just a beautiful day." Hermione said. "We should celebrate those while we can."

The meaning behind those words, war is coming, was usually enough to suck the cheer out of any room. Off all Hogwarts students, the six of them actually knew how it felt to fight. They knew how bad it already was and how much worse it could become. The scar Dolohov caused on her torso started to itch.

The look in Harry's eyes hardened, Neville shoulders shuddered slightly and Ron looked away. For a second Hermione feared she had ruined the day.

Ginny interrupted the silence by determinedly stating: "Yes, we should."

They all toasted anew, a bit less exuberantly than before. Ron then produced a packet of cards. Although Hermione usually felt too old to be playing Exploding Snap, she joined in. They all needed the distraction.

They played excitedly until Kingsley came to remind them they had a curfew. Hermione smiled at Kingsley, or as they were supposed to call him in public: Professor Shacklebolt.

She realized that not only had it been a very good day; it had also been a pretty good year up until now. Dumbledore had finally appointed a decent Defense against the Dark Arts-teacher. Kinsley, as a member of the Order, was clearly on their side. They wouldn't have to worry about him trying to hurt Harry or other students. He wasn't incompetent and was a decent enough teacher to make sure everyone learned how to defend themselves. He also presided over the DA, which was now a real club, and used that time to teach them spells and hexes that weren't on the official programme.

Kingsley had also created several emergency procedures for the students to follow when the Castle was under attack. When the alarms rang, all students were to retreat into the rooms that were warded against intruders. This, combined with decent defense lessons and the fact that there were Aurors stationed in Hogsmeade, made Hogwarts a very safe place.

Hermione knew off course, that they were never completely safe. The attack on Katie Bell had been a painful reminder. Dumbledore's cursed hand was another.

The Headmaster had also been giving Harry special lessons, which Harry passed on to them. She had been horrified to hear about the Horcruces. How any man could shatter his soul like that, was beyond her reasoning. Voldemort was pure evil, but at least they now knew how to fight him. And fight him and his Death Eaters, they would.

In the meanwhile it was nice to just go to class and be proper teenagers: there were no trolls to fight, no basilisks to fear. No one had unearthed an ancient deadly competition and the Ministry wasn't out to change the entire curriculum. Instead Harry and Ron could play Quidditch to their hearts desire and she and Ginny could talk about boys until their throats hurts. Harry had even stopped having those awful dreams.

Yes, she decided with a smile on her face when they neared the castle, this year was a perfectly normal and very nice year.

She shouldn't have jinxed it.

The following Monday during breakfast, the Headmaster rose to give an announcement.

"It is my sad duty to inform you that until further notice Professor Snape will be unable to teach his classes."

He was interrupted by the loud cheering of the second year Gryffindors, who had him that morning. Professor McGonagall jumped out her seat and actually ran over to her students to chide them for their inappropriate behavior. Several points were taken away. Hermione grimaced. For her normally stoic teacher to respond in that way, something terrible must have happened.

Headmaster Dumbledore was still upright, but seemed to be waiting for Professor McGonagall to return before continuing his announcement. His eyes were missing their normal twinkles.

Hermione looked at her friends, who had responded to news in the same manner as her. Since they no longer took Potions and Snape could no longer torture them in class, their spite towards the man had softened. They too had noticed the strange behavior of the other teachers, who looked sad (or angry at their celebrating students). Harry nodded towards Madame Pomfrey's empty chair.

"Do you think he's been... incapacitated?" he asked softly. Only the three of them and Ginny knew that the Professor was also a spy for Dumbledore. An infinite number of things could have happened to him. They didn't like the man, but none of them wanted to see him become another victim of this war.

Dumbledore answered for them. "Due to a set of contaminated potions ingredients, Professor Snape has contracted a serious illness: the Amazonian Red Fever. Madam Pomfrey managed to stabilize his fever. He is now in a coma." He paused for a moment, hesitating which words to use. "It is uncertain when..." His voice broke. "or even if he will wake up."

Everyone in the Great Hall fell silent. A few young girls of Slytherin House even started crying for their Head of House.

"Professor Sinistra has agreed to be the ad interim Head of Slytherin House." A weak applause rose from the tables. The Astronomy teacher nodded at her new charges. "Potion classes will be suspended until I find a suitable replacement."

He waived his hand to signal the end of the announcement, before disappearing through the main door. Breakfast was over, but none of the teachers stood to usher them out of the hall and into the classrooms. They knew the news had to be discussed first. Students cluttered together in small groups to discuss the news.

Hermione, Harry and Ron walked together to their first class.

"So what do you think?" asked Harry. "Real accident or is Dumbledore hiding another attack?"

Hermione startled. She had taken the announcement at face value, but realized Harry had a point: this could be the aftermath of another attack.

"Poisoned ingredients?" She asked. "But who would want to hurt Snape? They think he's on their side." They were off course the Deatheaters.

"Snape makes the healing potions for Dumbledore's hand. Maybe the attacker wanted to poison the Headmaster and Snape just got in the way."

Hermione blinked at him. "Why wouldn't they warn Snape then?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe they don't trust him anymore?" Hermione glared at him. It was Harry who didn't trust Snape. He still blamed him for Sirius' death, which was a bit unfair if you asked her. Snape had passed on Harry's cryptic message, what more could he have done?

"I don't know, Harry." Ron said, acting as the voice of reason. "He who must not be named thinks Snape's his spy, he wouldn't just sacrifice him for another half-assed attempt on the Headmaster's life."

Harry shrugged again. "Maybe he is just sick," he conceded. "The timing just seems strange to me."

They didn't discuss it further, but the subject kept troubling Hermione. It seemed strange to her too, that the Professor was being beaten by a disease, however exotic. Maybe it was the silly rumours of him being a vampire, but the fact that he wasn't actually immortal, was throwing Hermione for a loop.

She was concerned. The Order was now one spy short. The school was missing a valuable teacher: the curriculum would suffer and so would her test scores, because no one in the UK was a better Potions Master than Snape (she'd checked). A tiny part of her however was worried for the man himself.

She wondered about that. Why did she care about the man who had insulted her teeth and took every opportunity to mock her and her friends? Or did the worry stem for the respect she had for him as a teacher?

She really liked his NEWT-classes. He still acted like a git and pretended they were all stupid little children but he also taught them loads of interesting stuff. He even let them experiment a bit and talked about potions that were not in their textbooks.

With Harry, Ron and Neville gone from the classroom, she had more time to concentrate on her own work. Her skills were vastly improving: without exaggerating she was the best Potions' student in the class. Even Snape had noticed and stopped insulting her incessantly. That, or without Harry by her side she no longer suffered collateral damage...

The boys' dreams of becoming Aurors had been devastated when they had received their OWL-grades. In a desperate attempt to cheer them up (and to not be stuck with their gloomy selves during the summer holidays) she had checked the educational rules and had found that they could take the NEWTS without having followed the classes. It unfortunately meant she now spent many of her free hours tutoring potions. There was an upside: in exchange the boys had stopped asking for her help in all other subjects and she got even better in potions than before.

With a sigh she cleared her mind and waited for the teacher to start his lesson.

Professor Matthews, formerly Mr. Matthews the apothecary, was considered a brilliant potioneer. He was a terrible teacher however. In a complete role reversal with Snape, he seemed to fear the students. He stumbled his way through his first few lessons and for a moment, Hermione thought he would learn. Then the fourth cauldron in two days exploded and the sixth student landed in the infirmary. Scared he made the decision to give up practical lessons and only teach theory.

Only the sixth and the seventh years got to brew. Off course, he also took no chances there. Hermione glared at the boiling Stain Removing Potion she had mastered in fourth year. Her fellow students were annoyed as well. She even shared a look of dissatisfaction with Malfoy, which surprised them both.

The next two weeks flew by quickly. To no one's surprise, Mr. Matthews returned to his apothecary. He did however agreed to correct the essays that were now set weekly, so no one would fall behind. The fifth and seventh years had sporadic brewing sessions, supervised by Madam Pomfrey and Headmaster Dumbledore himself, so they could practice for the OWLS and NEWTS.

Hermione didn't like the essay questions he assigned. Most answers could be copied straight from the book. She didn't mind the lack of practical lessons though, thanks to her tutoring session in the Room of Requirement she could brew whenever she wanted.

She did miss Snape's additions. Without his presence, Hermione could only follow the manual's instructions. Snape always added his own corrections or suggested interesting substitutions. He also got them to think about what they were doing and why they were doing it. Without him present, brewing lost a large part of its challenge.

She and her friends were studying Herbology together, when Professor McGonagall entered the Common Room and summoned her. She was lead to the Headmaster's office.

"Plum Pudding." Her Head of House told the gargoyle, before turning to Hermione. "He's waiting for you." It was clear she wasn't planning on joining them.

Hermione ascended the stairs with a rapidly beating heart. She had no idea why she was needed in the Headmaster's office. Was she about to get bad news about her parents? So far only Ministry employees and known Order members had been targeted, but it wasn't that unlikely that the Death Eaters would start targeting Muggleborns and Muggle parents.

Dumbledore took one look at her face and guessed what she was thinking. Or maybe he read it from her mind… He quickly strode towards her so he could put her mind at ease.

"Oh dear, I should have told Minerva to give you a head's up. I don't have bad news for you, Miss Granger. In fact, I have a favor to ask of you."

She stared at him in relieve, quickly followed by disbelieve. He chuckled. "Perhaps a cup of tea before we talk business." He all but pushed her into a comfy pink chair. Before she could wave away the concern, a House Elf popped in with two steaming mugs.

While she was sipping her tea, she took in the unusual office. Fawkes, the Phoenix, was dozing on the back of Dumbledore's seat. The Sorting had lay crumbled on one of the many cabinets and bookshelves that lined the office's walls. They were all filled with interesting but unfamiliar artifacts. Her fingers were almost itching with the desire to go exploring.

"I'm ready." She said instead.

Dumbledore put away his own mug and rose. "Let's talk in the infirmary."

She was confused, but she followed her Headmaster obediently. When they arrived she noticed that curtains were drawn all around one of the beds. She knew it was Professor Snape's sick bed. There had been several students who had snuck into the infirmary on a dare to check up on their hated Professor. They all said that he looked terribly sick and pale.

"You probably don't know this, but next to all of his other duties, Severus also brews the potions for the infirmary."

Hermione nodded. It made sense not to buy products when you had your very own expert nearby.

"As he is now incapacitated, we are in need of a new brewer." He looked at her and she faltered.

"Me?" She asked incredulously.

"Yes, you are the best Potions' student. Even Severus himself admitted you were improving steadily."

She felt her cheeks redden. She knew she was a good student, but to be trusted with this kind of responsibility was immensely flattering.

"Off course I will."

Dumbledore smiled at her and then spoke: "Did you hear that, Poppy? I've found you a new brewer."

Hermione turned around to face the Matron. The elder woman was smiling at her, an expression she had not seen before.

"I'm sure you'll do a great job, dear." She said. "I'll send you a list tomorrow."

Hermione nodded proudly. Dumbledore looked at the Matron's hands and saw that she was holding a vial. "Is it time for his potion already?" He asked. The Matron nodded.

"Perhaps we should give Miss Granger an opportunity to visit her professor."

The Matron nodded again, which Hermione found peculiar. Normally the headstrong Healer refused to let anyone see her patients without a good excuse. Then there was another thing to consider: she wasn't sure she wanted to see her Professor in such a vulnerable state. Both her superiors had already disappeared behind the curtains and she had no choice but to follow them.

The rumours were right. Snape looked awful. It was with great difficulty she managed not to cringe.

"Ah yes. The Amazonian Red Fever, a terrible disease." Dumbledore spoke. "The victim suffers from numerous fever attacks. The organs overheat and malfunction. Sometimes they become irreparably damaged. All the Healers can do is treat the symptoms and try to lower the fever until the body defeats the infection itself."

Hermione was surprised that the man, whose voice had cracked with emotion when he had made the announcement of Snape's sickness, was now describing his sickbed calmly, almost clinically. Madam Pomfrey pitched in.

"That is why we have to administer several potions every hour. A Blood Replenishing draft to strengthen the immune system, a Calming potion to keep the mind at ease, Healing potions for the lungs, liver,... The list is very, very long."

A enchanted bell next to the bed chimed softly. "Time for this potion."

Dumbledore smiled and extended his arm. "We'll take care of it." The matron handed him the vial. He then took out his wand, waved it between the two of them and whispered "Mufflatio."

Madame Pomfrey immediately lifted her hands to her ears and glared at the Headmaster. "I'll be going then!" She said rather loudly. "Don't forget to call Winky to take the night shift!"

Hermione turned to Dumbledore in her confusion.

"Do not worry." He said. "I simply cast a Silence spell. We can talk freely now, all anyone in our vicinity will hear is a ringing noise in their ears."

She wondered what Dumbledore would tell her that was so secretive. "We should give him his potion."

"No. I'll think we'll wait." The Headmaster spoke calmly.

Hermione panicked. Why was Dumbledore acting so strange? Did he want to kill Snape? What would his body do? Go into a seizure? How was she supposed to treat that? And would Dumbledore stop her?

Snape's body started shaking softly. She tried to reach for him, but Dumbledore grabbed her hands. Before her eyes, Snape transformed into someone else.

"What?"

The Headmaster opened the vial in his hand and held it under her nose. "Do you recognize this?" he asked. The smell was very familiar.

"Polyjuice. So this isn't Professor Snape?" So where was he? And why all the smoke and mirrors?

"No it is not. This is Arman, a Romanian colleague of Charles Weasley. He unfortunately is infected with the Red fever." The compassion that Hermione had missed in his voice before was now present.

"Before he fell ill, he became a member of the Order. His brother has allowed us to use him as a cover. It is very important that Voldemort thinks Severus is incapacitated and does not call him through the Mark."

To stress his words, he gently fed the potion to Arman. The body shifted back into the shape of Professor Snape.

"Is he on a mission?" It was the most likely explanation: Dumbledore had sent his spy to find the Horcruces.

He shook his head sadly. "No, unfortunately Severus too is incapacitated. It was a potion's mishap. It is why I must ask a third favor of you."

"Third?" She was confused, again. The headmaster had only asked her to brew, hadn't he?

"Severus has only left us with a limited supply of Polyjuice potion. Someone will have to make a new batch."

She nodded. "Consider it done."

The Headmaster smiled mischievously. "I have no doubt that you will be able to brew that particular potion."

Hermione blushed. She had been sure that no one knew about her Polyjuice problems in second year. Professor McGonagall had assumed she had been trying to achieve an Animagusform and had lectured her severely. Since the denial of that offense would have been the confession of theft and illegal brewing, Hermione had had no choice than to let her teacher believe her own story.

"As for the third question. Perhaps it is easier to show you the problem." The smile and the eye twinkle disappeared again. He took out his wand again and warned her: "I'm taking the spell away. Please don't speak about this situation until we arrive at our destination."

As soon as he had lifted the spell, he called for Winky and instructed the Elf to look after the patient. Then he turned to Hermione and said: "I will take you to Professor's Snape private lab now. There you can brew the necessary potions for the infirmary."

Hermione only nodded and followed the Headmaster. Although the constant moving about and evading answers was annoying her, she couldn't help but marvel at his secretive skills. If anyone had been listening to their conversation, they would only have gotten a reminder that Snape was sick. The doddering old fool act, was just that, an act. Now she understood how he had won wars before. He had cleverly provided her with an alibi for her secret mission. Even if someone caught her brewing the Polyjuice she could lie and tell them it was for the Infirmary.

They stopped at a painting not so far from the Great Hall.

"This is it." He spoke to the farmer depicted in the painting: "Borage." The man nodded and the frame flipped open to reveal a potions lab.

"But we're not in the dungeons." Hermione said surprised.

"Severus' chambers are on different floors and connected with stairs. Directly beneath us are his private chambers and underneath that are his office and the classrooms." He walked over to what appeared to be a hole in the wall. "Accio Fluxweed."

A container full of Fluxweed flew up into the room. It was a brilliant system, Hermione thought. If their was an explosion, the rest of his stocks and possessions would be protected.

"I do think you will be able to work here." Dumbledore noted.

"Oh yes, sir." If it was up to her, she would start immediately. The lab was absolutely brilliant. It was obvious by the lay-out and the instruments gathered, that this was the work place of a true professional.

"The password is Borage. I don't need to tell you to keep it a secret?"

"Off course not, Sir." She wouldn't do anything to risk working here.

"Unfortunately I will also have to ask you to keep your assignment a complete secret. If anyone asks, you are only working on the potions for the Infirmary."

The serious tone of his voice and the emphasis on the word anyone made Hermione ask to clarify. "Harry and Ron?" She understood the need for secrecy, but Harry had shared the Prophesy with them and it seemed a betrayal to keep things from him.

"Them too. Besides you, only me, Minerva, Poppy and Arabella know the truth about Severus' condition. I want to keep it that way."

Hermione reluctantly nodded. There wasn't much else she could do. She now was really curious about the reason for Snape's disappearance. And Arabella? Did he mean Arabella Figg? The squib that lived near Harry? Why her?

Dumbledore moved over to the doorway near the transport-hole. "Rosemary."

Stairs appeared. "I think it is best if I show you what happened to Severus."

Hermione remembered from his earlier explanation that those stairs led to Snape's private rooms. Not without some nerves she descended behind Dumbledore. She quickly looked around, not wanting to get caught staring at her professor's stuff, but not able to help herself either. The rooms weren't dark and gloomy as most of the students, including her, suspected. He did have a dark green leather couch and a black leather chair, but due to their position to the fireplace, they looked warm and inviting. The wall to her left was plastered with books. On her right there was a little kitchenette with a table and some chairs. In front of her were two doors. She assumed they leaded to his bath- and bedroom. Dumbledore entered the right one.

She had no choice but to follow him. Her mind didn't even have time to conjure up a image of his bedroom, it was far to busy imagining the vile ways Snape would kill her when he found out her latest offense. Maybe he could just forgive her for trespassing in his inner sanctum, but actually seeing his bed? She was dead…

Whatever she could have made up, the room she saw, wasn't it. A bed with purple and pink covers was pushed next to the wall. She gaped at it, until she noticed an elderly lady sat in a reclining chair, reading in a book. Arabella Figg she presumed. Off course, her bed… Miss Figg greeted them heartily. Hermione managed a wave, feeling awfully confused.

Then she noticed that there was another part of the room, separated from their with a long dark blue curtain. Dumbledore gestured that she look past it. She could help but brush her hand over the curtain. It was beautiful, little stars were woven into the fabric and she thought she could see them glistening.

Behind it stood another single bed. In it lay a cute, four year old boy, who was softly snoring.

"Professor Snape has a son?" Her mind caught up with her as soon as he finished speaking.

"Dear Merlin!" She gasped. Snape had turned himself into a small boy!