the_debt_of_time

"I see that you made a decision." Professor Dumbledore stood at the foot of the
bed, a soft smile on his face. "I'm very glad. I've come to inform you that I've obtained a
home for you. A pureblood couple have agreed to take you in. I hope you'll trust my
judgement in saying that they are good people—better than most, in fact."
"Thank you, sir." Hermione bowed her head sadly, her eyes twitching with surprise
at the light, airy sound of her voice. Her words came out strangely as well. With a groan,
she reached up, brushing her fingers against her mouth where she felt the protrusion of
her overly large front teeth. "Wonderful," she said with a bitter growl. "Madam Pomfrey,
may I make a request?"
"What do you need, dear?"
"I need... my teeth back to normal. I had them fixed fourth year, and I know it's
completely superficial, but if I'm going to be forced to attend Hogwarts again, I'd rather
not have one extra thing against me."
At the thought of being teased over her teeth again, she felt a string of very sharp
emotions rise within her chest. She wanted to cry right then and there, which felt ridiculous
considering that she had not cried over anything else that night. She let out a heavy sigh of
frustration when she pieced it all together and realised that the De-Ageing Potion had not
just made her look eleven, she actually was eleven years old. That meant dealing with
puberty all over again, rapidly changing hormones, and growth spurts. She wondered if her
mental acuity would be changed at all. Or, God forbid, her magic. Another thing she clearly
had not thought through before taking the potion.
"I imagine when you've reached the age that your teeth were fixed, they will adjust
automatically," said Madam Pomfrey.
Hermione rose a brow. "I don't understand."
"Well, dear, it's still your body. The potion doesn't exactly give your physical self a
new start. You've already lived and gone through physical experiences, and at the age those
occurred, your body will tend to readjust itself, as a way of catching up, I suppose."
Immediately, Hermione looked at her left arm, rolling back the now-too-large sleeve
of her dress. A sob escaped when she saw the flawless skin of her youth, unblemished, scar
and curse free. "But.. ." She looked up, tears in her eyes. "They'll come back?"
Madam Pomfrey frowned. "It's highly likely, my dear. I'm sorry."