-1Oh my. The last time I wrote this fic was 4 YEARS ago. I was just a baby. I'd lied about my age to make an account, risqué, I know. Haha.
Well, I was bored and started perusing through all SS/HG fics under humor that were completed when I came upon one and I thought, 'That looks awfully familiar….' then I realized, it was MY story. Wow. So I've just re-read through it and decided it was absolute rubbish. (I was 14 for goodness sakes.) Yet I still had over 1000 reviews.

How on earth did I manage that?

Nevertheless, I fell in love with it again. Many readers told me it was a concept that was touched on a lot but in a very different way, unconventional, if you will. That's what I loved so dearly about that fic and I am going to rewrite it. But BETTER.

Don't know why, I have a bit of writer's block, I suppose. Every time I write, I give up. So I'm going to try to not give up!

So here we go then.

Enjoy it, as I will do my very best to make it even more enjoyable than before. With much better plot development.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything nor am I making money off of this rubbish.

The Downside of Aging Potions

Hermione Granger sat back from her parchment and set her quill down, stifling a yawn, and raking her fingers through her shorter-than-normal locks. A potions accident had singed her hair up past her shoulders (much to her annoyance, as Snape had just suggested she pulled it back,) and rather than fix her hair magically, she simply evened it out all around. She dared to say it was an improvement seeing as without the weight of her hair pulling her curls down and making it all frizzy, her curls were light and bouncy and much more silky than before.

Her eyes darted to the clock on the wall in her Head Girl room and nearly gasped. Was it really one in the morning?

One thirty, to be exact. She closed the book she was laboriously copying notes from and sighed. The text was nearly four hundred pages long.

'Snape had better be damn well thrilled when he sees these,' she thought glumly, gathering the notes and counting them to get an exact number.

Forty pages after six books, three essays, and nearly two weeks. And for what? Snape didn't even tell her. She would have thought by now, since he was the one to ask her for her help, he would have the decency to enlighten her on why she spent all her time consumed in his research.

She acted more angry than she really was, however. She was rather delighted he chose her, her, to be his partner, when he could've had any other student or professor, or person in the world. And that she could help him at all was very pleasing to know.

She glanced at the notes and then back at the clock and reflected upon his words from earlier in the week.

When you are finished, bring them directly to me.

Making up her mind, Hermione stood and put the notes into a folder, labeling it 'History: Chinese Herbs in Aging.'

Satisfied, she tucked the folder under her arm and made for the dungeons as quietly as possible.


The dungeons were dead silent and thoroughly creeping Hermione out. At least it was some comfort to know that Snape was undoubtedly lurking about, just waiting for a kid to make the wrong move.

Lately, his duties weren't being fulfilled by himself, but no one took note of that. Hermione made his rounds for him, and of course never mentioned it to him when he forgot, she simply did the job.

She turned the corner and walked up to the room that led to the Potions Room. She gave a loud rap on the door and waited.

When there was no answer her brow furrowed. Snape was normally up that late… She knocked again, louder, feeling her knuckles tingle and she drew her hand back.

Waiting for less the amount of time as the first time, she pushed the door open. Her eyes swept the room, hand on her wand, fighting the oncoming terror that was threatening to take hold.

But all that was squelched when she saw him. She rolled her eyes, putting her wand away. She should have known.

Slumped over one of the desks, head resting on his arm, was Snape; snoring softly in a very deep sleep.

Hermione had caught him like this several times before, and had modestly nagged him about it without over-stepping her subordinate role as his student.

She moved around to the front of his desk and with one last disdainful look, with a very Slytherin smirk, however, she dropped her file in front of him, making a loud SLAP and he woke with a start.

"Oh my," Hermione said with an impish grin, "It seems Mr. Snape has broken rule 142: leaving a brewing potion unattended - sleeping or otherwise."

"I wasn't sleeping," he snapped, knowing they both knew he was, and added curtly, "And that's 'Professor' Snape to you, girl."

She fought down her giggle.

He peered into the cauldron, "I still might be able to… yes, Miss Granger, hand me those Egyptian Rose petals, please."

Hermione picked up a small bowl with golden petals and handed it to him carefully. He added the new ingredient and watched as the potions glowed for a moment. A pleasant odor arose, but she heard him curse.

"Shit…" It was only a murmur, but it was as powerful as if he had shouted it.

"Professor?" She ventured.

"Hm…. Too much asphodel…" He paced then emptied the cauldron with a spell and started to begin a new one.

"Professor?" She tried again.

"Yes? Oh- right. The notes." Snape opened the folder and thumbed through the pages. He only found one or two interesting and he tossed the rest aside.

"Wait a minute! I worked on those for two weeks!" Hermione fumed, picking up her folder and thrusting it under her arm, glaring.

Snape still look distracted, "Oh? Well, then five points to Gryffindor for your efforts."

"Five measly points?" But he was already back to his potion. She sighed, "Professor, you should go to sleep, and not with your cauldron."

He scoffed and murmured under his breath.

She went to the front of his work desk and insisted.

"Miss Granger, I am fully capable of deciding when I will rest." He said curtly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Fine then, Professor. Good luck, and thanks a lot… I'm going to bed." She announced, turning.

"Goodnight, Miss Granger." He called after her, making her jump. The tone of his voice instantly made her mood change as her stomach flip-flopped.

"Goodnight…" She replied softly, clicking the door shut behind her.

Severus waited to exhale until he knew she was back at her dorm room. With a weary glance between his failed potion and the clock on his wall, he waved his wand and the cauldron emptied, and he started adding the base ingredients. Again.

Falling asleep in the middle of a potion was unprofessional enough, but to be woken up by Hermione Granger, who resembled more of McGonagall every day, was really quite too far…

Asphodel, (not too much this time,) ginger root, and he wondered if retinol powder would do?

He poured in the powder and liquids and stirred clockwise three times.

Sighing, he set down the stirring rod and watched the potion bubble.

Truth be told, he didn't mind all that much Hermione waking him up. She was one of the very few he let his guard down around. They were partners, after all. Though she was still a student. She didn't act like one; not anymore, to his gratefulness.

She didn't wave her hand wildly at any question he asked, but waited to see if anyone else knew first. She was still a know-it-all, no doubt about that, but being a know-it-all was fine if you didn't go around showcasing it as she often used to.

And out of class she was even more pleasant. She let him work, worked beside him, and only asked questions if they were particularly difficult or if she could not find the answer herself.

Quite the young woman. She shouldn't be in school anymore. But as it was, she was. And winter was coming up already.

It wouldn't be much longer as she would be out, pursuing a career, she confided, most likely in potions. He never would have guessed it was her favorite subject, but she admitted she struggled with it under the immense pressure to please him.

He smiled faintly at that.

Now that she was over her fear, she received top marks in potions, as high as he could give her.

Severus added thyme into the mixture and watched it slowly change to a forest green color. With any luck, this potion would be done son, but he was never a lucky man.

His eyelids were sagging and he tried straightening to wake himself up. An energy potion would be very simple to brew, right now. Yes, very simple…

But there was no time; soon he would need to add argireline to the brew. No time. No… time…

His head fell forward onto the desk and he was asleep again before he could stop himself.