Set approximately one hundred and three years later  Neatly
avoiding Sybilla Weasley in a corridor crowded with pupils as
they emerged from their last lessons of the day, Snape saw a
familiar plump figure ahead of him. He stopped so abruptly that
a Hufflepuff bumped into him, gave a squeak of dismay, and
rebounded into the equally terrifying figure of the Warden.
"Hermione!" Ron picked her up, swung her around, bussed her
soundly on the cheek, set her back down and walked through the
stone wall to wherever he had been going.  His wand hand
itching, Snape crossed the stream of children by the simple
expedient of glaring them to a standstill. Finally standing in
front of her, he absorbed all the familiar details for so long
that the corridor had emptied.  "Minister," he said formally.
"Not as of nine o'clock this morning," said Hermione cheerfully.
"Why not just smile and get it over with?"  "And ruin my
reputation? You're early."  "Shall I go away again? I bribed
Buttercup into giving me her portkey session.