Hi Everyone.

This fanfic is based upon LilyPotter's excellent Fanfic challenge. In it, third-year Hermione has an accident with her Time-Turner and ends up in Hogwarts, circa 1975! She meets the young 6th-year, Severus Snape, and the adventure (and a relationship Hermione could never have expected) unfolds from there.

You may notice that this is the same premise for Ygraine's terrific new fic, Away From my Window, and at first I thought we'd be writing the same story, but I can see now how two different imaginations can take a similar plot and take it in two totally different directions! I love Ygraine's fic too, so I hope you'll check it out.

Here we go:

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Our Turn in Time

Chapter One--Hermione's Heel

Miss Hermione Granger hated her life.

She would never have admitted it before today, but this year, hers had been a dreadful life. She wished this year at Hogwarts was through. She wished she could go home for the summer right now, and spend time as a muggle, with her parents. She missed them terribly--she'd not gone home for the Christmas holidays, she'd stayed at Hogwarts instead, and to what purpose? Just to be abused some more by that horrid Ronald Weasley! And with Harry backing up Ron at every turn, what chance did she have? And all because she was trying to be a good friend! Wizard or muggle, weren't boys just stupid!

Not that she didn't love being a witch. But the pressure of trying to be the best witch she could be was daunting! How she longed for a couple of months of peace!

But it was only March. There were still more than two months to go before the summer holidays. Only two months, Hermione, she would tell herself. Only two more months. And then she would give that Time-Turner back to Professor McGonagall, and never, ever take so many classes again!

She wished there were someone besides Hagrid to talk to these days, though she was glad for his support, and was happy to give hers in defense of Buckbeak. Her only two real friends hated her, she was sure of it. And she wasn't sure why trying to look out for Harry made her hated by him and Ron. It certainly wasn't fair!

But she couldn't tell anyone about the Time-Turner, not Harry or Ron, even if they had been friendly to her, and not Hagrid. It was a solemn secret. She understood full well what faith Professor McGonagall must have had in her, to entrust her with its responsibility.

The classes were a real challenge--sometimes she felt like she would lose her mind! So many times she was tempted to skive off one or two of them, maybe get a nap. But that wouldn't do at all--she never skivved off classes. She just knew that once a person started doing that, it became a deplorable habit. So she'd give the Time-Turner one more spin, go back an hour, and attend another class. Sometimes she had to do it twice for one hour, taking three classes in it! She had so much homework, she was so behind! Well, all right, she wasn't behind, but always in constant dread that she soon would be! She felt like there was never enough time, even though she gave herself more time than anyone else had! And she loved the classes, she would have hated to miss any of them, well...perhaps she could do without this silly Professor Trelawney's class...ugh.

She silently shifted her books from one arm to the other, waiting patiently. She smiled in the gloom. She could be patient, she had the time. Lavender and Parvati were kissing up to Professor Trelawney--again. Sometimes it was all Hermione could do to stifle the mad laughter she felt rising in her, listening to this nonsense. She was past clucking over it--it was pure comedy now--one of the few bright spots in her week, actually. Especially amusing was hearing it again later on, perhaps in the next class, perhaps the Gryffindor Common Room, when Lavender would switch, embellish, or outright lie, trying to impress people with what she supposedly was told by Fraudeley Trelawney...Hermione's secret name for her.

Before Harry and Ron had pushed her away, first because she told Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt Harry had got for Christmas, then because Ron was sure her cat, Crookshanks, had killed and eaten his nasty old rat, Scabbers, Hermione had never felt lonely. It didn't bother her that she wasn't close to any of the girls in her year. It didn't really bother her that she had no friends at home. She was always busy, and Harry and Ron were always there. There was always someone to talk to in the halls, and the common room. There was always someone to sit with at meals in the Great Hall.

But they weren't there for her now. She felt like a ghost in the common room, except even more transparent than a real ghost. But not to Ron. She was very wounded by Ron. Harry wasn't so bad, he just ignored her, but Ron...he was cruel. She was so aware that he was aware of her, and it wasn't enough that he hated her, he would make little comments, say things to make her wince. She hid behind stacks of books and tried to pretend she was too engrossed in her studies to take notice. But she did. She took the keenest notice.

Some nights, though she was desperately tired, she would cry. Once she knew all the other girls were asleep, the tears would come. She hated them, but they came just the same. She would bury her face in the pillows, and let them, because, some nights, she knew if she didn't let them out, there would be no sleep for her at all. She would weep, but wake up sad again. What a waste of time, she would think then. To cry, and still feel sad.

The saddest part of all was her realisation that it actually made it easier to use the Time-Turner if she had no friends. No one waited for her after classes. She could slip down a hallway after the last straggling students, give the Time-Turner one spin, and go back an hour, with no one the wiser.

Hermione's head snapped up. To her dismay, she realised the room had gone silent. Had Parvati and Lavender walked right past, as she stood there in the shadows, musing on friendship, or the lack thereof? How long ago since they left? She had no time now! She had to get down the ladder at least before she began to go back in time, in case Trelawney caught sight of her, and there must be no students coming! One mistake, just one, and she'd be in real trouble!

As quietly as she could, Hermione crept from the classroom, taking her habitual happy breath of fresh, incense-free air as she carefully closed the trapdoor. Juggling her book bag, she descended as quickly as possible, silently cursing her robes as they attempted to get under her feet. Impatiently, she reached down to pull them free once again, said "Drat on it!" under her breath as the hem of them caught under her heel. She heard the fabric tear.

Reaching the bottom, she almost ran to circular staircase, and began quickly skipping down, pulling at the fine gold chain as she went, freeing the Time-Turner from its hiding place. As soon as she got downstairs she would quickly look 'round, as always, make sure no one was about, and give it a quick turn. But just as the next floor came into view, she felt, with a flash of sickening surprise, her heel once again catch in the torn hem of her robes. She fell.

There was no time to grab the railings, and she vaguely heard her books bouncing about her as she hit the hard stone steps, over and over again. Her mind registered each impact, her ears heard the crack of a bone, but there was no time to feel pain, and no time to be frightened. Her mind could only focus on knowing that the floor was coming up and her fall would soon end, and for that she felt grateful. It was the last thing she felt before her world went black. She didn't know about the blood. She didn't hear her ragged breathing. She didn't feel her fingers slip against the Time-Turner. She did not see her world fade away as the tiny Time-Turner spun, and spun, and spun...

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Chapter Two--Severus' Serendipity

"Hey, Sev, check this out, it arrived for me today." said Regulus, tossing an engraved parchment across the table to the older boy, who was bent over his book so closely his long nose almost touched it.

Reaching over to take it up without pulling his eyes from his book, Severus asked in return, "And what...is this?"

"An invitation." answered Regulus, as he rocked onto the back legs of his chair, gripping the edge of the table at which they both worked. He rolled his eyes. "To my cousin's wedding. Blech."

Severus Snape finally left off reading his book and opened the parchment. 'Cygnus and Druella Black invite you to witness the nuptials of their daughter, Narcissa Black, to Lucius Malfoy, Esquire.' "Whoo-hoo," he commented acerbically, tossing the parchment back to the younger Slytherin. "I shall alert the media."

Regulus chuckled. "Too late. It was in The Daily Prophet this morning."

"Why send an invitation straight to you anyway? Why not just send one to the family in general?"

Regulus snorted. "C'mon, Sev! Remember Narcissa? You know what she's like. I'm sure she sent one to everyone so they would have a keepsake of her most glorious marriage. I never met a girl so full of herself."

"I remember Lucius as well--my first year in Slytherin was his last," Severus sighed, as he carefully closed his copy of Achievements in Charming, to avoid cutting his fingers on its sharp edges."From what I can recall of him, she has picked the perfect mate."

This set Regulus to laughing again, and Severus said in mock irritation, "Regulus, please! I am trying to study, for Merlin's sake. Go jump in the lake or something."

"Oh, c'mon, Sev, you know you love me."

"Like I'd love warts on my bum."

His rude remark took the younger student by gleeful surprise. This time, Regulus laughed so hard he lost his balance and fell backwards. His chair hit the floor of the Slytherin common room with a loud CRASH!

A second table, filled with furiously studying fifth-years preparing for O.W.L.s, snarled at him to shut up. No one helped him to his feet. Sighing again, Severus came around the table and pulled him up by one arm.

Still laughing, Regulus chortled, "You have bum warts, Sev? Now I shall alert the media."

"You are just so..." Severus began, trying to look severe, but failing. "All right, all right." he smirked. "I'm sick of books for now anyway. Come on." The two boys crossed the room to the huge black stone fireplace. It was always kept at a high blaze, as the dungeon was ever chilly and damp--especially so now, in late March.

The fourth-year Slytherin threw himself carelessly across a worn leather sofa opposite the one Severus had taken. "Think they'll make me go? It's this summer. I'd rather be forced to eat toad souffle.'"

"Are you daft? Of course they'll make you attend. And your brother." he remarked, unsmiling.

"Sirius has bum warts, and brain warts." Regulus always knew how to make Severus smile. Any crass remark directed at his own brother, an unworthy Gryffindor, would cheer Severus right up.

Severus allowed himself a small smirk. "That's because they're the same warts."
Once again Regulus barked out laughter, and Severus allowed himself to join in, ignoring the furious "Sssshhhhhs!" from the study tables.

"Sev, you crack me up!" Regulus spat between giggles.

"Oh, how wonderful. I can become the world's first wizard reply to Benny Hill."

"Benny Hill?"

"Never mind."

Both boys looked up as the common room's door opened. Gbenisola Boipelo entered, looked about haughtily, and began to cross the space, heading for the stairs down to the girl's dorms.

The eyes of every male Slytherin in the room were upon her as she made her way. She'd come in as a transfer in her third year, a beautiful dark-skinned witch from Somalia. Severus found himself holding his breath on his first sight of her each day. She was exquisite. Of course, she'd already shunned him when she found out his family was poor. That girl wanted rich boyfriends only. She was obsessed with money, and Severus had to admit it made her the perfect Slytherin female. Over time, he realised he didn't much like her anyhow. He found her tedious in everything but beauty, and her only real attraction for him now was the opportunity she gave him to taunt her.

"Sola..." he sneered. "Back from slumming?"

Her eyes flashed as she turned to him. "You would know all about this 'slumming', would you not, Snape?"

Regulus' eyes narrowed at the perceived insult to his friend. He lifted his nose into the air and sniffed. "She's been slumming near the Gryffindor dorms, I think. I can smell the stink of it. It's like a perfume, only stench-like."

"Eau de Gryffindork?" teased Severus, his voice and face falsely innocent and sweet.

"Eau de Lion Fart?" chimed in Regulus, crossing to behind Severus' sofa and standing near his friend.

"Eau de Roaring Red & Gold Skin Disease?"

"Eau de Sirius-ly Disturbed?"

"Oh, shut up, the pair of you!" Gbensola scolded. "I was in the library, for goodness' sake. I have O.W.L.s soon!" she began to trounce off, then stopped. Turning slowly, she smiled at Severus. It was not a pleasant smile. "If you really must know, I had a study date with Bruno Zabini."

"Oooh, Zabini!" scoffed Regulus. "Now we know who you sneak off to meet on those late-night Saturdays! Eau de Ravenclaw Rat Guts!" he laughed heartily at his own joke, but Severus sat quietly this time, observing some of the tint fade from Gbensola's lovely dark face, watching her beautiful, almond-shaped black eyes widen, noting that the fourth-year's comment had struck home. He simply smiled at the girl as she tossed her pretty, green-and-silver beaded braids and flounced off. He held up his hand and Regulus gave him a high-five. Now, that was interesting, he thought. Ammunition for later, perhaps.

"Good grief, Snape," called Stirling Wilkes from one of the study tables, "Do you have to bait her every time?"

"It's what I live for, Wilkes." he replied in a bored drawl, idly scratching at one of the brass nailheads on the sofa for effect.

Stirling chuckled and went back to his books.

"Oh, no!" Severus exclaimed loudly as he sprang to his feet. "No...." he moaned in frustration. "I'm already shattered as it is!"

"What's wrong, Sev?" asked Regulus.

"I forgot to return that crystal ball I borrowed from Professor Zenton." he replied crossly. "I was supposed to have had it back an hour ago." He headed for his book bag and pulled out the large glass sphere, making sure the laces of its protective black velvet covering were secure. "I'd better take it back now."

"Should I go with you?" Regulus asked, eager for any chance to wander the halls in the evening. It could be especially exciting to wander with Severus, who seemed to to have the ability to come upon things as if by intuition. With him, one always managed to find someone who was up to something they shouldn't be. It was highly useful for blackmail--Regulus supposed the older Slytherin must have at least fifty students doing favours for him, in order for their misdeeds not to be reported. Severus had told him that in many ways, it was far better than being a prefect, though the principle was the same.

"No...no worries. I'll be back before you know it." and Severus was out the door. Regulus shrugged disappointedly and went back to the study tables, trying once more to memorise his arithmancy chart.

Severus made his way down the hall, sighing anew. It was a long trek from the dungeons to the top of the North Tower, and he did not relish the journey. It had been a long day. It was always a long day. At least now, after almost four years, he had nearly adjusted to his schedule.

He climbed three staircases to reach the main floor, and, passing the Great Hall, cast his gaze inside. It was quiet. The brazier fires burnt low, the floating candles had been doused. The teachers were all in their offices or private quarters now, apparently. When he came back there would no doubt still be lingering students here, but they were gone now.

Severus patiently climbed staircase after staircase, seeing only a few students. His eyes ranged ever about him. He was aware that Regulus thought he went looking for students breaking rules, on purpose, but that wasn't quite true. His main concern was always his own self-protection. The fact that being super-aware and in the moment provided some episodes of discovery of the nefarious doings of others was only a side-benefit. He had his enemies in this school. Regulus' brother, Sirius Black, was the worst of them. He and his little gang of Gryffindor stalkers seemed to live to make his life miserable. He never trusted that they weren't following him at any time. As he had a talent for discovering wrongdoers, the Gryffindor Gang seemed to have uncanny skill in finding him, wherever he was. Especially after last spring, he was ever watchful for treachery, and seldom left the Slytherin dorms on his own. The only time he tended to venture forth alone was later in the evening, like now, when Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and that useless prefect, Remus Lupin, were bound to be studying in their own common room.

Severus smirked as he passed through the ever-darkening halls. Perhaps Sirius had good reason to hate him? After all, he had taken the young Regulus Black, two years his junior, under his own wing when the boy had been sorted into Slytherin, and now Regulus had assured him that he, Severus Snape, a half-blood, was more of a brother to him than the one he really had. Regulus was the cause sometimes, and the prevention at times, of the attacks on Severus by Sirius and his friends. Sirius never dared lay one jinx on him if he thought Regulus might see him at it, so nothing ever occurred if they were together--the Gryffindors always waited to catch him alone. Severus never spoke with Regulus about the bullying unless the younger boy brought it up--and the only time he brought it up was when others had seen the 'prank' and told him about it. As others had seen had last spring, when James Potter had humiliated him out on the grounds, after their O.W.L.s. Severus' cheeks burned with shame as he again recalled the incident. No, you will NOT think of it! He pushed on up the staircases.

His legs ached. He was not in a good mood when he finally reached the landing, which led to the hall, which led to the narrow spiral staircase leading to the Divination classroom.

"Have at you!"

Severus looked up, glowering at the painting in front of him. "God, Cadogan, shut the hell up. I am definitely not in the mood for your rubbish tonight."

The fat, armour-clad knight in the centre of the portrait cried, "Swarthy knave! You dare to insult Sir Cadogan? Stand and fight!"

"Bug off, you fat prat," growled Severus as he turned on his heel and started down the long hallway. Behind him he heard the clank of metal on metal, and rightly assumed that Cadogan was trying to get his sword out of its sheath again. He smiled grimly as he heard the crash of armour hitting turf. He rightly assumed the squat knight had fallen over again. Being a two-dimensional creature seemed to affect the memory, Severus thought. In portrait characters, memory appeared to be very short-lived--they never learned from their mistakes.

The staircase opening was in sight, but something was wrong. There was a dark shape lying at the bottom of the opening, and Severus' eyes narrowed upon approach. He lifted his wand, which was always in hand whenever he was in public areas, whispering, "Lumos!" The wand's faint light helped illuminate the passage.

He crept carefully closer, peering at the shape in the passageway, and was almost upon it before he knew it meant no harm to him. It was a girl! A younger girl, by the looks of her. She was hurt. Her head was bleeding, and her face was grey, tight with pain. Severus winced when he saw that her lower right leg was bent at an odd angle. The girl said nothing, just looked up at him with large, frightened brown eyes. Her breathing was rapid, and she clutched a chain in her fist, clenching it so tightly that her knuckles were white.

Kneeling beside her, Severus did the only thing he could think of at the time--he told her, "It'll be all right. We'll get some help, OK?" Encouraged by her slow nod, he stood, calling, "Sir Cadogan!"

The knight puffed into view in the nearest portrait, a view of two Spanish girls in huge farthingales. They cringed off to one side as best they could as he wheezed, "Had enough of running, you scurvy rat? Have at you!"

Severus gestured at the girl on the floor. "Merlin's beard, Cadogan, can't you see we have a damsel in distress?"

The knight's eyes opened wide in surprise, and his combative stance disappeared. "Of course, milord, I shall fetch help from the infirmary straight away!" He bowed low to the girl, then began to lumber away.

"Cadogan!" shouted Severus. "Have them bring a stretcher!"

Once again, he knelt by the girl's side. He tried a smile, but knew she would be in too much pain to return it. Gently, he patted her shoulder. "They'll bring a stretcher. I'd carry you, but you may have other injuries, things we can't see, like damage to your spine. I could hurt you more, trying to do that, OK?"

Again the girl nodded, then swallowed, and said faintly, "Thank you." She looked as though she might cry, and that thought unnerved Severus. He hated to see a girl cry, couldn't bear it. He'd seen his own mother cry too many times, with nothing he could do to comfort her.

He spoke on, asking, "What's your name?"

"Her...Hermione." she whispered.

"Hermione...from the Greek."

"The Greek?"

"Yes. From that messenger god, Hermes. It means 'speed' and 'good luck.'"

To his surprise, she laughed weakly, though it was quickly curbed, as she gasped, "My ribs." Then she continued ruefully, "That's me, all right. I fell down the steps with speed, and had the good luck to break my leg." And then she did begin to cry.

As Severus hovered, unsure what to do, the girl wiped her eyes with the back of her fist, never letting go of the chain. "I hate crying...I hate it. It's such a waste of time."

Feeling nervous and useless, he patted her shoulder once more. "It'll be all right, don't worry. Madame Pomfrey'll fix you right up."

He heard the commotion down the hall before he saw people, and was quite relieved to find not only Madame Pomfrey coming, but Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall as well.

"Down here, Headmaster!" he called.

The teachers and Madame Pomfrey quickly arrived. Severus backed away toward the portrait of the two Spanish girls and watched. The injured girl was carefully levitated onto the stretcher, but still she moaned in pain, and he saw her faint. Her hand fell away from the gold chain she'd been clutching so fervently, and Severus saw what had been at the end of it--a small silver pendant in the shape of an hourglass, held in a circular frame. He gasped in surprise, and stared as the shocked faces of the two professors turned from those of each other, to his.

So...he wasn't the only student at Hogwarts with a Time-Turner!

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Chapter Three--Hermione's Healing

Hermione lay still in her infirmary bed, at the end of a long row of them. She knew her leg was all wrapped up and lying on a pillow. Her head pounded, but not as badly as before. She kept trying to appear unconscious, though she was fully aware by then. The thought of facing these people was too frightening.

She knew them, of course. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey. But it was all wrong. They looked younger. Not extremely young, but younger. What was frightening was that they did not know her.

She knew full well what that meant--that the Time-Turner had taken her far enough back that she was at least three years behind her own time, but--and this was the scary part, if they looked so much younger, how far back had she gone?

And the boy, the weary-looking boy who had found her. He--he couldn't be who she thought he was at first, could he? No...he was wearing student robes! There were no lines in his face, no furrows in his brow. When he first came upon her, and she saw him, she couldn't speak. And then, she wondered if perhaps her head wasn't hurt worse than she thought. It couldn't be him, could it? The face shape, the nose, the mouth...the same. But not the eyes. Not cold, not like the blank, closed walls she was used to. Deep black eyes, they were, like lagoons at night, full of warmth and compassion, not disdain. It couldn't be him--Snape--could it?

She had waited for him to speak. And there it was, that familiar, resonating voice, so clear, his speech so clipped and concise. But...there was kindness in his cadence...and caring. Not coldness. It couldn't be Snape. Maybe a different Snape, a brother, perhaps? Yes. It had to be a brother, or a cousin. Some relative, that was it.

They were whispering, she could pick up snatches of conversation...

"But, Albus, we don't know her..."

"She knows us, Minerva. You saw the relief in her face when she saw us, the same as I."

"Yes, but, where is she from? What do we do?"

"Let's ask her, shall we? That's a start."

She heard their steps approach her bed, and then Dumbledore's gentle voice. "Young lady, I think we might talk now, if you could manage that. You're awake, aren't you?"

The voice was so soothing that Hermione knew she no longer needed to feign faintness. She opened her eyes. Before her were faces of kindness, also of curiosity. Perhaps a curiosity as keen as her own. Madame Pomfrey was fussing about, getting medicines ready, but three pairs of eyes were focused only on her. She pushed herself up just a bit on the pillows, though it was painful. "Yes, Sir. We should."

"Now, now, no need to do anything but lie still," Dumbledore admonished her mildly. "You have a lot of healing to do."

The professors sat on chairs to one side of her. The boy, Hermione noticed, stood quite still just off to the other side, toward the foot of her bed. His arms were crossed, almost protectively, but his face was intensely curious. Apparently he had been allowed to remain, though for what reason, Hermione could not guess.

"Can you tell us what happened...ah..."

"Hermione, Professor. Her name is Hermione." the boy prompted, never taking his eyes from Hermione's face.

"Yes, Hermione Granger," she agreed, adding her last name.

"Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall continued. "You are a student, here at Hogwarts? Hermione nodded. "But, this is the difficulty...we don't know you."

"I know." Hermione admitted. "I have gone back too far. How far did I go back?" She bit her lip, fearful of the answer.

"In time, in time," Professor Dumbledore answered in his friendly way. "For now, please tell us what happened."

Hermione sighed, looking away from the party to the fire, burning brightly nearby. "It was so stupid. I wasn't paying attention, I guess. I was leaving Divination class, then I slipped on the stairs and fell. I hit my head. I think I must have set the Time-Turner to spinning...when I came around, it was the first thing I saw, it just spinning away, and the world rushing by, so I stopped it as soon as I could."

"That is what we had guessed." confirmed Professor McGonagall, and her lips pressed thinly together. "Miss Granger...Hermione," she continued quietly, and the look in her eyes was a mixture of pity and compassion that Hermione found nearly unbearable, "What time was it when you fell? What day?"

"It was 10 o'clock...14th March..." she hesitated, "1994." She looked on, anxious to see their reaction. It was as she had feared. Professor McGonagall's hand fluttered to her neck and she looked worriedly at Professor Dumbledore. The headmaster looked even more sorry for Hermione than before, though he quickly tried to hide it. Hermione peered carefully up at the boy. His expression was completely different. He looked positively excited. He smiled at her, but when he looked to the adults, he quickly changed his expression, trying to match theirs. It would have worked, Hermione thought, if I hadn't seen what came before.

"And how old are you? What year in attendance?"

"I'm fourteen, I turned fourteen last autumn. It's my third year."

"And how did you come to have this Time-Turner?"

"You...Professor McGonagall, you gave it to me. I wanted ever so many classes--you know how the syllabus expands and there are all these choices, so many wonderful choices, and there just wasn't time for them all, and you told me if I would be serious about it and not misuse it, and be careful..." the words spilled out of her in a rush, "That I could have it. But I wasn't careful, I fell, and now...what time is it? Please tell me!" she pleaded.

"First of all, Miss Granger," began Professor Dumbledore, reaching out and patting her arm, "You did nothing wrong. The world is full of uncertainties, and things can happen that are beyond our control. It is not your fault. I fear you have gone back through time quite a long journey, but not as long as you could have. It is 4th March...1975."

"Nineteen...Seventy-Five?" she repeated, and she could feel her eyes growing round. Something in her breathing seemed to forget how to function. "But...I'm not born yet! How do I get back?" she gasped. "How do I fix this?" she looked anxiously from the face of one teacher to the other. "I need to fix this! How do I fix this?" she heard her own voice rise in volume, take on a touch of hysteria, and remembered to breathe. With the breath came the sobs--they'd been hiding just under the surface and now they broke free. With that, the boy moved quickly to her side. He didn't touch her, but he knelt by her side, and he cared. She could tell he cared. Hermione found herself focusing on his face, and some of her panic eased. Such warm eyes...

"Now, now," soothed Madame Pomfrey, bending over Hermione's bed, forcing the boy to shift his weight to get out of her path. "You've been through a great deal." Looking up to catch the headmaster's eye, and receiving a barely perceptible, approving nod, she continued, "And the business of getting to where you should be is not the first order of business! You need to heal first. Think we're sending you anywhere in your condition? I think not! Now, you take this draught, young lady, and rest."

"No! Please, wait." Hermione pleaded, once again trying to sit up. "Professor Dumbledore...what do I do?"

The old man sighed, then said, "Miss Granger. We don't yet know. But you do not have to fix this alone--the four of us here will try to help, even you, Mr. Snape?"

Hermione looked again to the boy, who gave her a small smile and a reassuring nod.

Professor Dumbledore went on. "But I cannot say this is not a serious situation. This is why Time-Turner use was restricted in the first place--though of course your case was purely the strangest of accidents. Miss Granger, this incident, and who you are, must not be spoken of outside this room, and even we must know as little as possible about you. Severus? You will ask no questions, though it may sorely tempt you. We are counting on you in this. Miss Granger, you will give no answers."

Hermione felt herself startle when Professor Dumbledore said, "Severus?" And she knew, when she looked into his eyes, that he understood--she also knew him, in the future. That was one question he would need no answer for, not now.

"Now, Miss Granger, we will leave you to rest. While you sleep, we will consult as to what steps should be taken next."

Hermione felt herself relax. Come what may, she was among friends. As always, she could count on Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. Madame Pomfrey, too, would look after her well. And, of all the people to find her, and want to help her...Severus Snape. She almost laughed at the irony, but instead, a small smile appeared as she sighed. And Severus Snape smiled back.

"Now, Miss Granger, the sleeping draught, yes?" Madame Pomfrey tipped a phial to Hermione's lips, and Hermione tried to swallow all of it, though she fell asleep so quickly, she didn't manage it. There were no dreams.

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"The 15th-century was the beginning of the most serious of persecutions, both by muggles and wizards alike. Sometimes based in religion, coupled with a desire for power, these persecutions are considered by most scholars to be among the most heinous in the history of Indo-European civilisation, with torture being commonplace. It was at this time that the muggle and wizarding worlds began to separate into distinct castes, though muggles were still well-aware of, and had a strong belief in, magic of all kinds.

Such belief caused, in rare cases, an alliance of sorts, with muggles providing protection to wizards, and vice-versa. Muggles providing protection? What protection could muggles provide? Hmmm..."

Hermione shifted slightly under the covers, and replied sleepily, 'In the case of Wendelin the Weird, Professor Snape, the female members of a muggle family with the surname Reynolds persuaded her to give up allowing herself to be burnt as a witch. This gave great relief to her family and they rewarded the Reynolds family with protection when they were, in turn, wrongly accused of witchcraft. Wendelin's family helped the Reynolds family escape to Italy before they could be taken..." she yawned and opened her eyes...and remembered where she was.

It was still dark, but there was a bright candle hovering nearby, over the head of Severus Snape. He sat near the end of her bed, his feet hitched up on the rung of his chair, a large book balanced on his knees. He said, "I'm sorry, I woke you."

She rubbed her eyes. "No...not at all." She yawned and heard Snape chuckling.

"I did wake you. I should have been quieter. I'm sorry. I like to read aloud when I study, somehow it helps the information stay with me better, especially the history."

"I do too, but I've learnt not to. There's nowhere to read aloud without someone complaining."

"Very true. But it's good here. Well, until I woke you."

"I'm not sure if you did, or if it was just time for me to be awake. What time is it?" she asked.

"Half-four." he answered, closing his book onto one finger.

"Half-four? You should be in bed!"

"What time it is sometimes matters little, when you have one of these." he smiled mischievously, and pulled on a long gold chain hidden in his robes. Hermione gasped when she saw his Time-Turner sparkling at the end of it.

Amazed, she pushed herself up on her elbows, glad that her ribs no longer hurt. "You have one too? I thought only I did!"

"That belief was mutual, I think." he replied. "I never saw another until I came upon you."

"How long have you had yours?"

"Since third year, I'm sixth-year now."

"Almost four years...I don't know how you manage! I get so run down, it's terrible!" Somewhere at the back of her mind, she was thinking, You're talking to Professor Snape and he's actually answering you, how strange! And so strange that he wants to talk, and that he answers nicely...am I losing my mind still, is this real?, but she carried on her outward speaking as if all were as normal as it could be when one has gone back in time by nineteen years and several days. "I think that's how I managed this mess...I got tired and preoccupied...and careless."

Shockingly, Severus chuckled again. "I was the same. For three years! I was a right disaster by O.W.L.s last year. I never slept, never bathed, never ate, didn't take care of myself at all. But it's better now. I found a way to make it work."

"How?"

His eyes sparkled. "When you recover, if you can stay a little while longer, I'll show you." his smile faded slightly as he observed her. Hermione..." he hesitated. "You know me...in the future."

"You aren't supposed to ask questions, and I'm not supposed to answer them. Professor Dumbledore said!"

He surprised her by smiling again, his eyes twinkling. "But I didn't ask a question, Hermione. I made a statement. A statement isn't a question. And agreeing with a statement is not answering a question."

"That's cheating."

He laughed. "Hardly! It's truthful as summer sun. And if anyone asks you, you can truthfully say I didn't ask, and you didn't tell." He tried again. "You know me--in the future."

"Yes."

He got up, moving his chair up from the foot of the bed to sit by her side. The candle followed. "Just now, when you were sleepy, you called me 'Professor.' I am a teacher here."

She tried to frown at him, but his face was so hopeful...would it hurt to tell him, if it makes him happy? "You are." she agreed.

He sat back in his chair, making it creak. Looking down at his hands, he only said, "I'm very glad."

"You're a good teacher," she offered, unbidden. "Hard, but good."

"I'm sure you're a good student. Lazy students don't get these." he reached toward her and carefully lifted her Time-Turner from where it lay against the woolen blanket, and they both watched it shimmer in the candlelight. Laying the pendant gently against her covers once more, he leant back, saying, "Hermione, you're still very tired, you should sleep some more." he made as if to rise.

"Wait," she implored. "Don't go. I...I don't want to be alone. Can you stay, until I'm asleep?"

He smiled again. Hermone felt her head spin a bit. So many smiles, from one who never smiled. From one she thought she hated; from one she knew she feared. And questions came unbidden to her weary mind--What happened to you, Severus Snape? How did you change? Who or what changed you into who you are now, in my time? But it was a question she knew he could not answer, for he hadn't lived those years yet, the years that must have changed him.

"I'll stay." he answered quietly. Settling back against his chair, he continued, "Sleep now, Hermione. You need to heal." He opened his book and began to read to himself.

"Professor..." and she laughed softly, "Mr. Snape. Would you read aloud again? It's very soothing."

He grinned. "Of course. And it's Severus, OK?"

She listened to the strong, familiar tones of his voice as he began anew, a voice she was used to paying attention to, and watched him through half-lidded eyes. Her mind formed one word as she observed him--long. All of him was long--long, shiny black hair, a long nose, long face, long body. Long fingers. Long, tapered fingers, like an artist's fingers. As she faded off to sleep, she thought, he was handsome once, with a regal bearing, even then...

"In the year 1444, a Hungarian wizard by the name of John Hunyadi waged a battle of wills against the infamous Prince Vlad of Wallachia..."


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Here we go, short but sweet:

Chapter Four--Severus' Shoulder

Severus found his feet leading him to the hospital wing at all hours. After that first night, when he'd found Hermione, had helped her...he hadn't known what to think. His head had spun as the many implications of her predicament struck him. He'd gone back to the Slytherin dorms as if in a daze. A girl from the future! From a place none of them but her had ever been, a place none but her had seen...he hadn't been able to sleep that night. He had twisted himself around in his bed till the sheets were choking him. He'd given up on sleep, and gone back to the infirmary.

She'd been asleep as he approached. She had looked so innocent in sleep, like a child--all pain and fear gone from her face. He sat by her and studied, then she'd wakened...wakened, and called him Professor. Professor Snape. He'd felt his heart race to hear her murmur it. And then at his gentle urgings, she'd confirmed it. He would teach here. It was what he had wanted since third-year. Hogwarts was home, his only real home--and he would get to stay forever. She knew it. And now, he knew it with certainty. He would teach. And he knew exactly what he would teach--Defense Against the Dark Arts. He didn't need to ask her that. It was his best subject and the post would be his--he could feel it. And he would break the curse and stay all his life.

That afternoon he arrived once more at the infirmary, to find Hermione sitting on cushions in the shelter of one of the large windows, a small scattering of books around her. Her leg, now almost healed, rested on a small ottoman. She smiled when he came in. He was struck again by how well-adjusted she seemed for someone in her strange situation, how poised she was. She patted the cushion next to hers, an invitation to join her.

"Thank you for getting these books for me from the library," she gushed. "They're very interesting. Have you read this one?" She held up the book she'd been reading, and Severus leant over to read the title--Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks.

"Yes," he replied, "I read that one as soon as I found it, in first year. It's a bit silly, isn't it?" Looking back to Hermione, he was slightly dismayed to see her looking surprised. "I mean, the way it works," he hastily amended his assessment, "You tend to want to read that book after a nasty shock, so a lot of it is hindsight."

"Oh..." Hermione thought. "I suppose that's true." She chuckled. "I suppose that's why I find it so interesting."

"Hermione," Severus asked, "How are you doing, I mean, really doing? Are you all right? Has Professor Dumbledore found any way to help you?"

She frowned slightly, shaking her head. "No. Not yet. He's writing to friends, he said, friends who might know of something he doesn't. But there's little to go on, this isn't a common occurance. "

"So it might be awhile yet?" Severus found he had to work to keep his voice neutral. What was it about this particular girl that fascinated him so? It wasn't just her experience of time-travel, they hardly spoke of that. But he found himself in no hurry to see her go.

"It might be." Hermione sighed. "This sounds awful, but I haven't really minded so very much. I was so tired. I've slept a lot. I don't have to worry about my grades for now..."

"Oh yes!" Severeus exclaimed. "I was going to show you my secret for that! How's your leg? When can you put weight on it, do you think?"

"Madame Pomfrey says it should be all right in just another couple of days, so perhaps by Saturday?"

"That would be ideal! Mostly everyone is gone to Hogsmeade then, so there wouldn't be much chance of meeting anyone."

"Oh, now I am curious." she smiled shyly. "And...no. I shouldn't ask."

"What?"

"No, I'm not supposed to ask questions."

"No, I'm not supposed to ask questions." he winked. "You can ask and I can tell."

She tried to look scolding. "You're still cheating."

"I'm not!" he laughed. "Listen, Hermione, you have to pay attention to what people say, to exactly what they say, and then decide for yourself what it means."

She still looked doubtful, but she asked him her question, nonetheless. "You said you read this book in first-year. Is it...is it too personal to ask why? You said you read it after the shock..."

"Oh." he looked at the floor. "Well..."

"Oh, you don't have to answer, I shouldn't have asked." And when Severus looked up at her again, he found he wanted to tell. He didn't speak of it often, but perhaps to her, it would be all right.

"Well," he began again, taking a breath, "Right before I came here, the summer before I arrived, my Mum died."

"Oh...I am sorry." Hermione's face looked pained.

"It feels long ago now." Severus continued, his voice almost a whisper. "But then...it was raw. Just raw. I didn't speak to anyone, and I had trouble sleeping. The teachers knew, and were kind, especially my Head of House. But...most of the other students didn't know. They thought I was some sort of freak. I never smiled. Some of them got...well, they got nasty. And I struck back. If it was one thing I learnt from my Mum, it was how to strike back."

"She taught you magic--before you came here? Isn't that...illegal?"

Severus chuckled. "No. Children aren't supposed to do magic outside of school, but I'll tell you a secret my Mum told me. She would know--she worked at the Ministry. The authorities know when magic has been performed, Hermione. But they don't know who performs it."

"No!" she exclaimed, incredulous.

"I swear!" he grinned, hand on heart. "As long as she was home, I could practice. They'd just think it was her! So I came to school with an edge."

"And used it." she probed.

"Yes." he agreed solemly. "But not to show off. Just for defense."

Hermione sat silent, her eyes now on the floor. Severus found himself admiring her profile. She had a sweet nose. Her full brown hair looked like a halo around her head, with the afternoon sun shining on it. She said, "It was hard when I came here, too, but not like it was for you. It must have been horrible."

"It got better." he reassured her. "It did. Those in my House stood by me, and gave me time to open up. We aren't always so kind, we Slytherins. But they knew what had happened to me and let me work through it. It was the Gryffindors."

"Gryffindors don't do that!" she exclaimed, turning up sharply to face him.

"Then things must have drastically changed in nineteen years." he retorted, eyes
narrowing.

"But..." she faltered. "Why would they?"

"You'd have to ask them! But I know one of them knew about my Mum, and he did it anyway. And I'd defend myself, and he'd go crying to McGonagall or Dumbledore, telling them about the evil little Slytherin who was making his life hell!" he almost shouted, then he became aware of his rage. Taking a deep breath, he tried to relax. "I'm sorry, Hermione. But that book...it wasn't just for dealing with my Mum passing away. It was for advice on how to handle myself in those other situations, when Sirius Black and his friends would--"

"Sirius Black?" she gasped. He could see the colour drain from her face, and it alarmed him. "Sirius Black." she repeated, as if trying to let it sink in. "You know him."

"Of course I know him, he's in my year...Hermione, what about Sirius Black? Why are you so shocked? Do you need Madame Pomfrey..." he started to rise, then he felt her hand on his arm.

"No! No, I'm all right. I'm all right." She left off holding him back and wrapped her arms around herself, looking thoroughly miserable. "I'm so stupid, I didn't even think..."

"Hermione...you know him."

Once again she turned her large brown eyes to his face, and he saw they were filled with tears. "Yes."

"Hermione." he leant over and took her hand. "You don't have to cry, it's all right."

Despite his reassurance, the tears spilled out. "You're right, Severus," she whispered. "You're right not to trust him. Don't!" she hissed. "Stay away from him. I shouldn't even tell you that, should I? Like Professor Dumbledore said...why no one should know I'm here. I could say too much...but, really...stay away from him."

She looked so utterly miserable and lost then that Severus didn't think, he reacted. He moved over on the window seat, taking her into his arms, and she wept on his shoulder. "I always try to stay away from him, but I can't always manage it." he told her. "I have some classes with him. I play Quidditch against him. But he isn't, and never will be anyone I would choose to spend time with. Don't worry. And don't worry that you've said too much, all right? I know full well the sort of person he is."

They sat thus for a little while. Severus knew he felt sorry for Hermione, but there was such a warmth spreading through him that he also knew that secretly, he enjoyed comforting her. He enjoyed holding her, feeling her soft hair tickling his chin. He enjoyed the small warm weight of the hand she had on his shoulder. He enjoyed the scent of her, and the warmth of her wet tears as they penetrated his robes. No girl had ever allowed him this much physical contact, and it felt wonderful. But, perhaps most of all, he reveled in the cessation of her tears. He knew he had been able to ease her mind. He knew he had succeeded in comforting her, something that he'd always failed at when his mother had cried. "Hermione...don't worry. Just like Professor Dumbledore said, you aren't alone in this."

She began to draw away from him, and he regretted it, but let her go. She faced him, a wan smile on her lips. "It's so funny...when you're my teacher, you're not like this. You're...well, you're rather severe."

"I am?" he smiled. "I suppose I can be, Hermione. But only to people I don't like."

"So...you like me now?"

"Now?" he smiled. "I guess I must. But, I'm warning you..." he narrowed his eyes in mock irritation, "Do not cross me, Miss Granger."

Her eyes widened. "Now that sounds like Professor Snape!"

They both laughed.

Severus told her, "I'll try to remember what you said, Hermione, and try not to be so serious. I know I learn more in classes where teachers aren't severe. McGonagall used to scare me, though." he chuckled.

"Really? I like her because she's always fair."

"She is that. So, how about I come back tomorrow? Check on you? See if you can walk about on Saturday?"

"I'd like that."

"You're all right then?"

"Yes." she smiled warmly. "I'll be fine. You should go to dinner, it's getting to be that time."

"I'll be back tomorrow, Hermione. Rest well."

Gathering his books, he walked quietly from the room. He could feel her eyes on him as he strode away, and he held his head high. Just before leaving the room, he turned and gave her a small wave. He'd been right. She'd been watching him. She waved back. He wasn't sure how he got to the Great Hall, but it couldn't have been such a mundane method as walking, he was sure of that. He could have sworn he'd floated.


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Chapter Five--Hermione's Hegemony

Hermione sat in her favourite window seat, waiting for Severus. He had come to see her the day before, when both had received the all-clear from Madame Pomfrey regarding Hermione's health. Today he would show her his secret.

She felt a giddy anticipation, and she wasn't sure what caused it. Severus Snape, perhaps? He made her nervous, she knew that. It was almost inconceivable that he could be the same person she would come to know later as cold, and sometimes cruel. That first night, when he'd found her--she had almost convinced herself that it couldn't be the Severus Snape. But it was. And still...it wasn't. She found it impossible to keep the two Snapes combined in her head. This was a different person. She found her former perceptions of him slipping sideways when he was with her. She forgot who he was, all the while knowing who he was. Perhaps, she thought, because in this strange world she'd tumbled through the years to find, she was a different person, too?

Now that her head was mended and her broken leg had healed, now that she'd had some rest, thoughts of her situation haunted her more and more often. Would she ever get home again? And, wasn't she already home, however many years too early? What would happen to her? She felt she was in limbo--not unlike how she would feel in the Gryffindor common room when, buried behind her books, she would become as a ghost.

Here, she was a ghost as well, with no one knowing her. When she heard the familiar happy shouts of students in the halls, she was saddened to realise she didn't know any of those people. And even the people she knew as familiar were different. And that was what was at the crux of her nervous feelings, she thought. Everything was the same, but everything was very different. It was like a dream--not a sweet dream, yet not a nightmare. It was like a dream you might have when you were dog-tired, one which felt surreal; a dream in which nothing made sense, but you didn't really mind, because it was so interesting. And you knew you were dreaming, but you had to just keep dreaming because you couldn't wake up. You were too tired, and your mind couldn't fight it. So you settled into the life of the dream, and waited to see what would happen next. That's what Hermione felt was happening. Almost everything that had happened--it didn't seem real. Except Severus Snape.

Severus felt real. He made this world real! He didn't look at her with pity. He didn't keep his distance, or hide behind platitudes. He told her how he thought, how he felt, things of his life that she supposed he shouldn't tell her. He had held her when she cried, and oh!-how real he had been then! Not for him the quick, friendly hugs of Harry, or the awkward pulling away of Ron. Whatever he might be later, this Severus was warm, and real. When he was near, she didn't fear that the dream would turn to nightmare. When he was near, she could breathe.

"Hermione?"

Hermione's head snapped up from her musings to find Severus Snape smiling down at her. She smiled back, hiding her amusement at his wardrobe, which wasn't so bad, really, but the jeans! Flared legs, and funny-looking boots. Ah well, she thought, fashions of 1975 will hardly be what you're used to. Besides, he still looks nice, that's a nice jumper.

"Sorry...I didn't even hear you come in."

"No worries. Are you ready?" he held out his hand to her and she took it. "How are you feeling?"

"Absolutely fine."

"Good, because we have a lot of climbing to do today."

He led her out of the infirmary and they began the journey, up staircases and down hallways to other staircases. To Hermione, it was fascinating. Many of the portraits weren't where she was used to seeing them, but she was struck by how much had not changed. A few students passed them as they made their way, giving Hermione curious glances.

"I'm surprised Professor Dumbledore is letting you out--I mean, well, you know."

Hermione laughed. "I told him you wanted to show me something today. He said he supposed it wasn't fair to treat me like some sort of prisoner. So, he and Professor McGonagall agreed that if it came to it, I was to say I was Professor McGonagall's great-niece, come to visit."

Severus chuckled. "Clever enough."

"Yes. And that way when I go, everyone will just think the visit is over. But..." she hesitated.

Severus stopped at the landing of the fourth floor and faced her. "But, if you don't go..." he urged.

"If I don't go...I don't know."

"If you don't go, it will all work out anyway." Severus assured her. "I promise. Now, we just go down this hallway here..." he went on.

But as she began to follow him around the corner to the passage, Hermione bumped right into a stalled Severus. Before she had any chance to react, she heard, "Expelliarmus!" Then, before her eyes, Severus was turned upside down. "Severus!" she shouted, trying to catch at him, her instinct being that he would fall. But he hung there in mid-air, scrabbling with his hands, trying to touch the floor.

"Oooh..." she heard a mocking voice, "Has Snivellus got himself a girlfriend?"

A boy stepped to the side and Hermione gasped. "Harry?"

But this boy wasn't Harry. Her shock rendered her speechless. He looked so much like Harry, his messy black hair, the shape of his face...but his eyes weren't green, they weren't Harry's eyes. This boy's eyes looked at her with mischievous contempt. "Harry?" he quipped. "You've got the wrong bloke, I'm afraid." Hermione heard heard snickering on the other side of Severus.

"Leave her alone, you slimy git!" growled Severus.

"Now, Snivellus, don't speak so rudely in front of a lady!" the boy exclaimed, and waved his wand once more at Severus, saying, "Silencio," rendering him mute. Assessing Hermione through narrowed eyes, he added, "Not that a girl who looks as if she were dragged through a hedge backwards is necessarily a lady."

"Good one, James!" came the high-pitched voice again, and another boy stepped into Hermione's view. This one was short, chubby, with sandy hair.

Hermione felt her fear turning to cold rage. "Let him alone." she growled. "James Potter."

The boy looked at her with new interest. "You know me?"

"I know of you. More than you think. Let him down!"

"No...I don't think so. I say he takes a little ride before I'm through with him." Waving his wand, he guided the helpless Severus to the stairwell railing and over it, leaving him suspended five flights above the floor.

"Stop it!" Hermione shouted, panicked now.

"Or what?" sneered the chubby boy, crossing his arms defiantly. "No one stops the Marauders, do they, James? Especially this loppy prat."

"Severus!" Hermione cried again, as James, laughing, bobbed him up and down in mid-air. Leaning over the railing, she caught Severus' hand. Forced to be silent, he could only regard her with terrified eyes. She turned to James once more.

James sneered, "Oh, I do love the Levicorpus look on you, Snivellus."

"Marauders..." Hermione whispered. She felt her fear turn to cold rage. " The Marauder's Map! Is that how you found him?"

A look of shock replaced the smugness of James' expression. "The...the...there's no way! You can't..."

Hermione knew then that she had the advantage, and she pressed it.

"Bring him back to the floor, now." she growled. "Carefully."

Without another word, James did as she ordered. Hermione took the chance to get her own wand out and pointed it at him.

"Take off the Silencio and give him back his wand."

Nervous now, James complied. As soon as he could Severus let loose with a barrage of filthy names, while shooting hexes at both of them. In a trice, James was cowering in pain and the chubby boy was dancing like a demented spider.

"Severus, stop it!" Hermione shouted, pulling on his arm. "Don't! You'll be just like them!"

The glare that Severus gave her felt like a cold slap to the face, and Hermione blinked, letting go of him. He stormed off around the corner, and she heard his boots clipping along the hard stone floor as he stalked away. Shaking now, she pointed her wand at each boy in turn and removed Severus' hexes. The two boys stood and regarded her, breathing rapidly. Quieter now, yet still angry, she told them, "You should be ashamed of yourselves. Gryffindors don't act this way! He'd done nothing to you."

"He's Snivellus," began the chubby boy, "He..."

"Shut up, Peter," growled James, rubbing his neck as if to ease a muscle.

"Peter..." she gasped. "Peter Pettigrew?" She shook her head at his surprised visage. Turning to James once more, she said, "And to think, he made such a hero of you." she shook her head sadly.

"Who did?" asked James, looking at her quizzically. "What are you talking about?"

But Hermione had already realised she'd said too much. Pointing her wand at the pair, she only said, "You stay away from us if you know what's good for you. Or I tell about the map. When you see our names on it, you head in the opposite direction, or you'll regret it, I guarantee you. Do you understand that?"

As she backed away, wand still held out, James asked, "What is your name?"

"Hermione."

"Oh, yeah, James, the one in the infirmary, the one we wondered about..."

"Shut up already, Peter!" snarled James.

"Stay away from us," Hermione repeated, "Or I'll manage your mischief, understand?" Relishing the renewed shock on their faces, she gave them one last triumphant look of scorn, then turned the corner. Going only a few steps, she stopped, leaning against the wall for support. As she tried to calm her shuddering breaths, she heard the two boys walk off in the opposite direction, muttering to each other. She slid down the wall, resting in a crumpled heap at the floor. Trying not to cry, she cradled her head in her hands.

James Potter. Harry's father! And he'd been anything but what Harry thought he was, what they all thought he was. He was a cruel, conceited bully! How could they all have been so wrong about him? And Peter Pettigrew! The one who would die, the one Sirius would destroy...she must never see them again. Her warning was for her safety as much as for theirs. She could alter history--she may already have done so.

Would it be so wrong? To alter history? To stop these terrible events from taking place? Moaning softly, she shook her head. Yes, it would be wrong. Changing events was possible, but would the outcome be good? What if she prevented James from marrying Harry's mother? Would Harry exist when she got back to her time? If she warned Peter away from Sirius, would someone else die in his place? She'd already told Severus to stay away from him....

Severus. Hermione became aware of where she was--alone in a fourth-floor passageway. Severus had gone--walked away and left her here. Why? Numbly, she picked herself up off the floor and began to go back down to the infirmary.

"Hermione." She turned. Severus stood in a shadow at the end of the hall. She couldn't see his face. He held out his hand to her. "Come." Wordlessly, she went to him. He took her hand and led her along, saying nothing, yet his hand was warm as he held hers, and she felt herself calming, though his look troubled her deeply. His face had a defeated look she hated to see.

They arrived in a hallway on the seventh floor, and as Hermione grimaced at a gruesome painting of a wizard being beaten up by trolls, Severus paced in front of the opposite wall. Just as she was about to speak, she gasped. A door had appeared in the wall! Severus opened it and motioned for her to go inside. She entered and stood in the centre of a large room, looking about.

It was a beautiful room. It had a warm fire in a large marble fireplace, and there were many candles. A large, plush green velvet sofa rested in front of the fire. Against the opposite wall were many bookshelves, packed almost to bursting with volumes of all sorts. The outer wall had a stained-glass window with a golden snake on it. Under the window stood a drinks cabinet with a bowl of fruit on it. There was a long table in the middle of the room, and two chairs. On the table was an ink bottle, a sheaf of parchment sheets, and a selection of quills. Next to the door was a wardrobe, and near that, a dressing screen.

Still silent, Severus closed the door, then leant against it, his arms folded, his head down, eyes cast to the floor.

Hermione said nothing. Slowly, she crossed the room to the bookshelves, running her finger reverently along the spines of the books, reading their titles. She heard Severus move to the sofa and she turned around. He was sitting crouched over, with his head in his hands.

Unsure of what to do, feeling timid and uncomfortable now, Hermione went to the sofa and perched gingerly at the opposite end. They sat in silence for several minutes. Then, at last, Severus spoke.

"Hermione." he took a deep breath. "I...oh, hang it." He ran his long fingers through his hair, then looked at her. "Hermione, I'm...I'm so ashamed." And Hermione was shocked to see tears glistening in his deep black eyes. "I ran off, left you there, and they could have hurt you."

Hermione didn't know what to say in reply. She watched Severus turn his eyes to the fire. "I...I felt I had to leave. I wanted to kill them, Hermione. And I do mean kill." He took a shuddering breath. "This week, I got to live a sort of dream. I got to talk with you, and you didn't have to know how things were, I mean, really were. You didn't have to see how my life is. You weren't like everyone else."

"But..Severus..." she began, but he put up a hand to stop her.

"You didn't believe me when I told you how they were. But now you see." He stood up and went to the mantelpiece, crossing his arms and leaning them against it, resting his head against them. "You didn't think Gryffindors could act that way, and now you know. And now you also know what a useless prat I am!" And with that, he swung out at the mantelpiece, knocking a crystal vase to the floor, shattering it. "Useless! Useless!" he shouted.

"Severus, stop it!" Hermione was on her feet in an instant. "You stop it! You are not useless! And if anyone is ashamed, it's me!"

Severus turned his haunted eyes to hers, and she went on. "You could have killed them, I know it. So did they! That's why they did what they did. Sneaking around, catching you off-guard..."

"Why can't they leave off me? Why can't they bloody grow up?" he almost shouted, turning away from her. "What they did last spring..." he hesitated, his voice by then almost a whisper, "It was like today. Only worse. Much worse."

"Severus, why? What did you do to them to make them act..."

"Nothing!" he shouted, turning to face her again, his face contorted with pain and rage. "Another girl asked that same question, and do you know what bloody Potter told her? He said 'Because he exists.' Because I exist, Hermione! That's all! Because I'm here! And of course they have to find me today, and do this, and humiliate me in front of you, and ruin everything! You know why? Because I exist!" he stumbled back two steps, then said faintly, "Oh God, I'm going to be sick..." he turned and ran past the dressing screen, through a drapery-covered passage she'd not noticed was there before, and she heard the sound of retching.

Reeling with shock, Hermione sat down on the soft rug in front of the sofa, leaning her back against it, looking at the mess Severus had made. Absently, she pointed her wand at the shards of crystal that littered the floor, mending the vase. She put down her wand and stared into the fire once more. She felt numb, and only came out of her reverie when she saw Severus' long legs pass in front of her eyes, as he came and sat beside her. They sat that way for a long time, each nursing their wounds, each sorting their thoughts.

After a time, when she felt ready, she spoke. "When he did that...when he turned you upside down like that, he frightened me. When he held you over that railing, I...I couldn't believe he would do something so stupid, so dangerous, to anyone. He..." she shook her head. "I can't say. But he won't be bothering you again." she turned to look at Severus. His eyes were dry now, but he still looked away from her. "None of them better dare."

Severus chuffed, a strange, half-laughing, half-scoffing sound. "Right. A little third-year tells them to stop bothering me, and they do? Don't make me laugh."

Surprised, she stammered, "But...but...they won't!"

"They do whatever they want, to whomever they want, and it's always to me! And if you think they'll stop because of you, you're an idiot."

Trying to quell the anger that rose in her at his patronising remarks, she replied, "Right. Fine." As she rose to leave, he grabbed her hand.

"I'm sorry." The face she saw then looked almost fearful. "I'm sorry, Hermione. Please. Don't go." He tugged on her arm, as if to pull her back down. "Don't go."

She knelt down near him. "Don't talk to me that way, all right? I've had enough of people talking to me that way."

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Sighing, she sat back against the sofa once more. "Never mind. But don't."

"I won't. I'm sorry, it's just...I'm the idiot. I was angry. I was taking it out on you."

"Well, I didn't see a sign on my forehead that said 'whipping girl' when I looked in the mirror this morning, so quit it."

"OK." A pause, then, "Hermione, why won't they bother us?"

She sighed. To hell with it, she was going to tell him. "They have a device, it lets them see where everyone is in the school. That's how they can find you like they did today. I told them to leave us alone, or I'll make sure they lose it."

Severus' eyes widened, and he almost smiled. The scorn on his face had disappeared, to be replaced with admiration. Smirking just a bit, he asked, "Are you sure you're not a Slytherin?"

Hermione gave him a tired smile. Suddenly, she felt shy in front of him. She dropped her eyes to her hands. She replied, "No. But don't hold that against me, all right?"

She saw his hand reach out to hers, and trembling a little, she let him take it. Nervously, she asked, "This room. Is this the secret?"

"Yes," he answered, giving her hand a little squeeze before dropping it. "Before the Gryffindorks ruined the surprise."

"They'll only ruin it if we let them." she smirked. "You study here?"

"Sometimes. But mostly I sleep on this sofa, or sometimes a real bed appears, but only if I'm really tired." He got to his feet and she followed suit. "What is the hardest thing about the Time-Turner?" he asked, striding to the middle of the room.

She grinned, nodding her head. "Sleeping!" She replied, sitting on the arm of the sofa.

"Yes!" Severus replied. "And why? Because you can't go back in time and get into bed with your other self for a few extra hours! And where else can you sleep? Some musty classroom? In the Owlery among the poo?" he quipped, making Hermione laugh. "That's why I was such a mess until this year! Sometimes having 24-hour days, but only eight-hour nights! And one night last year, just before end of term, I was pacing that hallway out there, wishing I had someplace decent to hide and sleep, and there's this door!" he pointed. "And here's this room! And I can come here and rest whenever I need to, have studying time alone if I need to...I love this room. If it weren't for this room, I think I would have turned in my Time-Turner last year, or gone loopy." he paused, pushing a hand through his hair, panting. "And...I think that's probably the most words I've said together in about six years."

She shook her head, smiling. She felt exhausted. But what a boy was this! His statements coming like lightning flashing, his feelings changing from dark to light in minutes. She couldn't keep up! Were his emotions always on fire like this? He was such a contrast to her calm, sensible self, and at the same time, he wasn't different from her at all. She hadn't been calm today...

Suddenly quiet, he asked, "Hermione, what is it? Do I talk too much?"

She chuckled. "No." She shook her head. "I was just finding myself wondering...if I were a boy, would I be just like you?"

He tilted his head slightly to one side, like a curious pup, a motion Hermione found to be very charming, and then he came near. As he stood over her, and she turned her face up to meet his eyes, he said, "I'm glad you're not a boy." He took her hands and pulled her gently to her feet, then he bent down...and kissed her.

For one shocked moment, she thought, Oh, my God, I'm kissing Professor Snape! and then the shock melted away in the heat of the kiss, and her thoughts drifted sideways, and she knew she was kissing that boy of light and dark, the one who felt so deeply, the one who wanted to kiss her, and she put her arms around his neck--and kissed him back.

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Chapter Six--Severus' Style

He was kissing her...and better yet, she was allowing it. When he felt her arms go about his neck, and her body settling against his...he was in heaven.

They'd cuddled thus for a few minutes, stopping to smile and blush, to laugh softly, then kiss again. She'd admitted it was her first kiss. He had hesitated, then admitted it was his as well. This brought a relieved sigh from her, and she'd kissed him again. Just before she pulled away, she'd held him close, and whispered in his ear, "Am I dreaming?" Her soft warm breath had made him shiver, and he'd let her pull away, lest he go too far. For within him now fluttered the butterflies of hope and desire, wakened and focused. Yet he must be careful with her...

He'd squeezed her hand then, and cast his eyes about for something upon which to remark. Then he'd pointed to the wardrobe, saying, "This is here for you."

"For me?" she puzzled, walking to it. Running her fingers up the smooth walnut wood of one of the doors, she asked, "Whatever for?"

"For clothes, silly," he smiled. "For clothes from 1975. For you. You won't want to go 'round in those black school robes always."

She'd smiled and opened the door, and he heard her gasp. "They're...they're lovely! I didn't think they would be, somehow..."

"Try something on, they're all your size."

Grinning now, she raided the wardrobe, then slid with her pile behind the paneled screen.

As she dressed, Severus found himself trying to catch his breath. Hermione! Speed and good luck? His good luck. His life would change because of her, was already changing, and fast. He almost bit his bottom lip when it suddenly occured to him that she was changing behind that screen...Merlin's beard. She might be naked right now! Oh my God...Hermione... he choked back those thoughts in an effort to remain a gentleman, turned his back to the screen and watching the fire instead. How her hair had shone in the flames, the reddish highlights coming to the fore...

"Severus...what do you think?" he whirled around at her soft inquiry, and gasped. His approving gaze made her blush, and she twirled around to make her long, ruffled, blue calico skirt flare out. "I love this. I love this blouse, and the shoes." She lovingly touched the sleeve of the white silk embroidered peasant blouse she'd chosen to wear.

"Here," he almost stumbled as he went to her. "Look." He conjured a full-length, silver-edged mirror, and they admired their reflection together. "You look like a princess. And I would know."

She sighed happily, leaning against him and pulling his arms around her waist. "How would you know?"

"I'll tell you someday," he murmured, brushing the lobe of her ear with his lips as he said it, making her sigh again. "Hermione, your hair..."

"It's such a mess, isn't it?" she sighed, her mouth quirking to one side as she regarded her bushy mop.

Severus grinned. "Yes, it is, actually. It's supposed to be curls, but you don't take the time, do you? You just yank a brush through it and get on with your day."

Her mouth opened in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Because I'm a bloody genius, that's how." and she laughed. "Here, let me fix it." And happily, he took locks of her hair, spinning them around his wand, one by one. Hermione went quiet, and watched in wonder as he lovingly reshaped her hair into long ringlets. "There. Perfect."

"It is!" she looked at herself, incredulous. "Goodness."

"Hermione, I don't know if it's too late, but I was thinking...you should maybe change your appearance a bit. I mean, because obviously there are people here you may see again in the future and they might remember you. Like Potter, and Pettigrew."

Her smile faded as she looked away from her reflection to him. "I suppose that's true. But as for..." but she bit her lip and would say no more.

Dismayed to see her so suddenly solemn, he'd turned her shoulders back to the mirror. "Here," he said, with a mischievous grin, "A blonde?" And with a tap of his wand, she was.

Her pretty nose wrinkled, and she laughed, "Not that blonde! I look like a Mal-" but she cut that sentence off as well.

"Red, then?" he offered, and with a flick of his wand, her curls were flame-coloured. He watched carefully as she regarded her reflection. Once again, she had gone pensive, her fingers straying to one red curl, pulling it straight.

"No, please, not red." she implored, then shook her head, dropping her eyes to the floor.

At that moment, Severus sensed that she was not really with him, but off in her future. What, or whom, was in her thoughts? Did she miss them? He rested his head upon hers, kissed the top of it softly, and inquired gently, "What colour then, Hermione? What colour for my sweet one?"

She'd looked up at him then, her deep brown eyes misty. Taking her hand from her own hair, she'd brought it to his, and whispered, "Black, Severus. Black, just like yours." She'd rewarded him with a small smile, which had caused the tears in her eyes to spill out. He'd held her again then, and kissed her once more, lifting her off the floor. Their kiss was salty with her tears.

When he set her down again, he'd cast the final charm, his voice husky with desire, "Infusco Capillus!" And they both turned to the mirror. She smiled in pleasure, her sadness forgotten. "Hermione..." Severus breathed, "You are a gypsy princess."

*************************************

They'd spent the afternoon in Severus' secret room, laughing, looking through the books, talking, and finally, snuggling in front of the fire. He felt himself very aware of her, every movement, every nuance of her expressions. He found himself wanting to please her, to keep those dark eyes from becoming sad again. And he succeeded...for a time. But she grew more and more quiet, till at last his questions and remarks received only the barest of nods. Unsure of what to do next, he simply watched the fire, and waited for her to be ready to speak again. At length, she did.

"Severus, I'm sorry." she looked at him hopefully. "I'm not sad, I...I don't know what I am. I don't know how to feel. About what's happened to me, and...about what's happened to us."

He nodded slowly. "Because I will be your teacher."

"No..." she smiled slightly, "Though I did think that at first. It's rather like you're not really the teacher I know, not now. It's different. But...I don't know now. I have to go back, and now, because of you, there's a part of me that wants to stay. And I feel that I'm wrong to feel that way." She slumped down further, drawing her legs to her chest and hugging them, resting her chin on her knees. Sighing, she added, "I feel I'm feeling wrong, no matter how I feel."

He matched her sigh. "As do I."

Tilting her head, she turned her face to him. Her eyes narrowed in curiosity. "How do you feel?"

He shook his head slightly. "I feel...well, I feel like I should be your friend, and want what's best for you...and, everyone seems to think that what's best for you is to go back to your own place in time. And, I do want that for you, and yet..."

"Yes?"

"And yet, I want to be selfish! It isn't as if I don't have friends, Hermione, but...they're just mates. There's never been a girl, and to have one like you almost literally fall down in front of me..." he smiled at her small chuckle, "Well, it's like a gift from the gods. You're a gift from the gods, Hermione, and I don't want to send you back." She turned her face away again, and Severus could see she was struggling, her eyes filling yet again with tears. "Hermione, I'm sorry, I..."

"No. Don't be." she gulped, fighting back a sob. "Severus, in my time...there's no one. My parents, yes...but, no one else. Not even friends. My friends hate me." Her head fell onto her knees then, as if it were too heavy to hold up.

"Hermione." Severus moved over and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

He heard her sniff, and she said, "They do. They won't talk to me, it's been weeks. I was so lonely...I tried not to care. But I cared." She lifted her head and Severus could see the hurt in her eyes, and felt his own eyes become misted. Yet his heart sang when she put her head on his shoulder. "If I went back, would they have missed me? Would they have cared if I ever came back? Would anyone miss me so much that they'd never recover?"

"Your parents would miss you."

"But Professor Dumbledore could tell them what happened."

"What? Hermione, how--"

"I've thought about it. I've spent more time thinking about it than I've let on. What if I can't get back? Professor Dumbledore would know I ended up here, wouldn't he? He could tell my parents. And...they wouldn't lose me, would they? I would just be a lot older, and I could still be a part of their lives, and yet..." she sniffed. "At that point I get all muddled and I can't think about it any more. It's very confusing. I hate to be confused."

Severus nestled his face into her sweet-scented hair, and replied once more, "As do I."

***************************************

They'd left the room as the sun faded, walking back to the infirmary, hand-in-hand. They'd been surprised to find Professor McGonagall there, waiting for them. Instinctively, Severus dropped Hermione's hand as the respected teacher looked up, but it was too late--he saw her eyes take on a knowing look...a worried look.

"Ah! Miss Granger." the Professor said, as if she'd seen nothing amiss, "We thought since you were well now, you'd like to have a room of your own? Since we'll be saying you are my niece, we've decided you should move in with me. There is a spare room in my quarters which I don't use, and I think we could make it very comfortable for you."

"Oh! Well," stammered Hermione, "That's very kind."

As she swept past them, she gave Severus a warning look, and said, " Follow me, then, Miss Granger. Mr. Snape, you may go down to the Great Hall for dinner, thank you."

Hesitantly, her face anxious, Hermione began to follow Professor McGonagall, giving Severus' hand a quick squeeze on her way out. So, she had seen the look as well, he thought. The Professor doesn't like this...us.

*****************************************

The Great Hall was thundering with the happy chatter of students, refreshed and ravenous after a day spent in Hogsmeade, but Severus was very quiet. He didn't really eat, just twirled his fork in his mashed potatoes.

"Sev, what's your problem?" remarked Evan Rosier, helping himself to another piece of pumpkin tart. "You really should get into town more, you swot. All work and no play makes you a dull lad."

As Severus thought of Hermione's lips, his own broke into a sly smile. Ah, yes, studying...

"That's better. Hey, how about we get in some trouble tonight? I'm still severely not tired. We can get Stirling and Regulus to get in on it. Besides, that prat Black is sincerely getting on my nerves--you should have seen him in Hogsmeade today, trying to chat 'Sola up. And she responded!" he exclaimed, making a disgusted face. "Great Slytherin's Snake, if she didn't. It made me want to puke! I'd just love to give that Black a punch in the plonker."

Severus looked up slightly over his friend's head to take a glance at the Gryffindor table, and wasn't terribly surprised to see eyes on him. James was talking to Sirius, their heads almost touching, as if conspiring, and Black's eyes were glittering in anger--at him, Severus. Peter was glancing over at him as well, but his face looked scared. It made Severus want to crow, but all he did was sneer. "You're right, Rosier. We should settle that, but whether with Black, or whether with 'Sola, I'm not sure."

"Good point, that." Evan replied. "I can't believe she'd kiss up to a Griffie."

"He's got money, Rosier. What do you think?"

Evan just snorted in reply.

"As lovely as a little lion-baiting sounds tonight, Evan, I'm afraid I have other plans."

"Oh, man! C'mon, Sev! Your study habits are getting to the point of the truly tragic. Your head is going to explode!"

"Oh...it isn't to study." Severus replied as he rose from the bench. "I have a date."

"What!" Evan Rosier nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. "What? Not you? With who?"

"See you later," Severus grinned, as he strutted from the Great Hall.

*************************************

Severus knocked on the door to Professor McGonagalls' office. When she answered it, he asked to see Hermione, but he already knew he was in for a hard time. Her lips tight, the teacher beckoned him inside.As he expected, Hermione was not there. "Sit down, Mr. Snape," the teacher ordered, gesturing at one of the chairs in front of her desk. He sat reluctantly, sure that a lecture of sorts was coming, his eyes straying to the door inside McGonagall's office which led to her private quarters. He turned to his teacher and sighed.

Professor McGonagall looked stern, but not angry. She sat behind her desk, resting her arms on it. "Mr. Snape...Severus. I've had a short meeting with Professor Dumbledore, regarding Miss Granger. He's told me he has had an owl from a friend in France, a friend who may have a way to see Miss Granger back to her own time. Ah, yes..." she nodded knowlingly at Severus, "This news does not please you. After what I saw this afternoon, I can guess at the cause. Mr. Snape," she said, leaning forward slightly, "You must not become attached to this girl! She will not be staying here long with us."

"You don't know for sure." he replied sullenly. "It isn't certain."

"Whether it is certain or not is beside the point! What is certain is that this girl does not belong here, and you should not be developing an affection for her!"

Severus stood. "With all due respect, Professor, it isn't as though we planned it! And you both gave me permission to spend time with her."

"I understand that, Mr. Snape, but that had more to do with you having found her, and knowing of her Time-Turner, than out of any expectation that you'd take it upon yourself to befriend her...or more. Ah, don't think I don't know. I've been a teacher long enough to know the looks you shared. And I can truthfully say that in this case it is a very bad idea!"

"What do you plan to do about it? You can't expect her to just be holed up in there for however long it takes!" he gestured angrily at the door to the teacher's living quarters.

"Mr. Snape," Professor McGonagall sighed. "I'm sorry, truly I am. But this girl must not be allowed to change the future in any meaningful way--not yours, not anyone's. We should have thought this might have happened, but we were thinking more of her, and besides, I never thought you were much of the type for this 'romantic' business. She will remain in my quarters. I've discussed it with the Headmaster, and he agrees."

Severus shook his head in frustration. "This is wrong. You are wrong! It's too late to do this now."

Professor McGonagall's expression changed from pity to determination. "Severus, if you do not abide by our decision, I'm afraid there are ways of dealing with you, ways we'd rather avoid." She stood. "It's best if you forget Miss Granger. Even if we cannot get her to her own time, she will not be remaining here for long."

"What do you mean? You can't do this!"

"That is all, Mr. Snape. You may go."

In the face of her implacable, steely-eyed glare, he could do nothing but retreat, wordless with rage. As he stormed away down the hall, he thought, to hell with that, Professor, and to hell with you! You will not keep me from her! Hermione needs me, and I need her. Your time for that is over...it's our time now.

Reaching the Slytherin dorms, he spat out the password and entered. Forgoing the sofas he usually pushed lower-years out of on Saturday nights, he strode to Evan Rosier. "Rosier, I think I have a slight way to do some pay-back in the situation we discussed at dinner. Can your little sister be trusted?"

"Paige? Sure. What do you want with her? And what happened to your date? She dump you?"

"Hardly." Severus answered drily. "Her 'aunt' doesn't approve. But I think I can bypass that."

Evan's blue eyes narrowed, his mouth curved in malicious sneer. "Let's get started then."



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Chapter Seven--Hermione Hears

Sunday had dawned, bright and full of promise, with a Springtime sky and a fair breeze, which was welcomed with many opened windows at the castle. But Hermione's windows remained closed, the drapes drawn. The lunch tray sitting on the room's desk was untouched. Hermione had no appetite. It wasn't as if Professor McGonagall had been unkind-far from it. But she had stated very firmly that Hermione wouldn't be seeing Severus again. She'd hardly slept last night, she was so troubled. She sat on her little bed, trying to make sense of what was happening to her, and this time, there was no Severus to ease her fears.

It was so unfair! Why couldn't she see him? Because they'd held hands? And would they have been allowed to see each other again if their feelings had been hidden from adult eyes? Most unfair! Of all people, Severus understood how lonely she was! She needed him! She rubbed her arms. He was the only warm light in this nightmare, how could they take him away from her? She rose and sat in one of the armchairs by the fire.

It wasn't just that she needed his comfort and understanding, she knew that now. He'd become important to her for himself. He intrigued her, in ways she was only beginning to discover, and she hungered to know more. She knew now that for him to walk away from the 'Maurauders' after what they'd done to him, took an immense amount of self-control, and not just that. There was something in his decision that she felt went beyond her understanding. She wanted to know what that was. She wanted to know what would drive him to use the Time-Turner for three years with no respite before he found the hidden room. She wanted to watch him work, help him study, she wanted to see him smile. She wanted to see again the way the dark green wool of his sweater turned his olive skin golden, the blush he sometimes had in his cheeks, like ripe peaches...she wanted to see his black hair, satin to the eye, velvet to the touch...and to feel his lips on hers...she trembled involuntarily.

Professor McGonagall had told her she'd spoken with Severus last night. You wait, Severus, she thought. Someday you won't have to take orders from her, you'll be her equal. She smiled slightly at that thought, but realised that, under the surface, it left a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. They might send her back now. Professor Dumbledore had said a friend in France might have a way, but needed to research it further. She smiled slightly again at the memory of Professor Dumbledore's head floating in this very fire the night before. How strange that had looked! Even with all her reading, there were still always new things to discover about the wizarding world.

So...now she still didn't know, would they send her back, or not? And if she didn't go back, what then? Would she spend the next ten years in this cozy room? No, they couldn't do that.

She heard a faint knock on her bedroom door and said, "Yes?"

Professor McGonagall peeked in, asking, "May we speak with you?"

Hermione saw another person behind Professor McGonagall. He was short in stature and broad through the middle, with a full head of hair and a beautiful brocade waistcoat beneath his robes, covering his girth. He smiled sympathetically at her. Hermione stood and gestured to the two chairs. "Of course, please, sit down."

"Thank you." Professor McGonagall and the stranger, who was promptly introduced as Professor Slughorn, teacher of Potions, settled themselves into the armchairs. Professor McGonagall conjured a small table between them, which held a tray containing a steaming pot of tea, biscuits, and crystallised pineapple. She also created a pretty tufted chair for Hermione. Leaning over the teapot, Professor McGonagall asked, "Milk?"

Hermione observed her Transfiguration teacher as she poured. Neither of the teachers looked Hermione in the eye. This is going to be a lecture, Hermione thought, and she sighed inwardly. Another talk about why I have to be treated like someone with a contagious disease. Her irritation rose, and she had to remind herself to be patient. As she and Severus had both agreed, Professor McGonagall was stern, but fair. There must be a reason behind this giving-and-then-taking-away.

Once they were settled with their tea, Professor McGonagall heaved a sigh. "Well, I spoke with Mr. Snape last night, Miss Granger, you know that. He wasn't pleased."

Hermione answered, "Well, that's understandable. I'm not pleased either."

"I understand that, and I'm sorry, Miss Granger."

Professor Slughorn chimed in, "And I am as well, Miss Granger. Professor McGonagall has let me in on the strangeness of your situation, as I am the teacher who authorised Mr. Snape's Time-Turner, being his Head of House. So of course, I did want to meet you, and help explain. I must say, it is a shame. But I cannot help but agree."

"Professor McGonagall," argued Hermione, "I know you don't know me well, not yet, but you gave me this Time-Turner! That should tell you I work hard, and I can be trusted. And if Severus has one as well..." she hesitated, looking at Professor Slughorn, "Well, why give us this much responsibility, yet stop us from being friends? I don't have a problem with rules, not if they make sense to me. But this makes no sense to me!" Hermione pouted into her teacup. "I'm sorry, but what harm can there be in me having a friend?"

Professor McGonagall took a sip, then replied, "I know, it seems harsh, Miss Granger, but Professor Slughorn and I have been teachers at Hogwarts for many years. We've seen these...infatuations...crop up. Hear me out." she raised a warning eye at Hermione's gasp of protest, and Hermione bit her tongue. She was a bit shocked to find herself needing to do so--defying a teacher's authority was not a natural phenomenon for her. "Infatuation. More than friendship for Severus at least, yes? And with a girl who may not be here more than another week! A girl who has probably said too much to Mr. Snape already."

Hermione cringed inwardly at the blush she felt creeping over her face and neck. She didn't reply. She didn't need to.

Professor McGonagall sighed again, and continued, "Miss Granger...we want to protect you. I know this decision seems unfeeling, but it's for the best. This is also, and especially, for Mr. Snape's protection."

"That doesn't explain anything, Professor." Hermione answered simply, her eyes pleading.

Biting her lower lip, Professor McGonagall put down her cup, folding her hands in that way she had that told Hermione an explanation was forthcoming. She watched Professor McGonagall hopefully.

"All right, Miss Granger. How much has Mr. Snape told you of himself?"

Hermione thought. "Well, he said he's had the Time-Turner for almost four years...he told me his mother died just before he came here to Hogwarts..."

"Did he say how she died?" Professor Slughorn interrupted gently, his face kindly, yet sad.

"No, Sir." Hermione shook her head. "He only said he had trouble his first year, that he didn't talk much to people."

"Ah. Miss Granger," Professor Slughorn said, and something in his eyes told Hermione he was struggling. "He didn't speak at all. Not a word."

"Wha...why? Not at all?"

"It was the trauma, we think." Professor McGonagall answered, wringing her hands a bit. "His mother didn't just die, Hermione."

Professor Slughorn grimaced slightly. "His mother was murdered, Miss Granger."

"What?" Hermione gasped.

"By Mr. Snape's father. Severus witnessed it."

Hermione couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe. Oh...my...God...Severus. She felt tears tingle into her eyes; she couldn't breathe.

"They said it was an accident." explained Professor Slughorn, with a seeming sigh of relief that the worst was out, though Hermione was herself struggling to comprehend such a horrible thing. "Manslaughter, they called it. But Mr. Snape's father is in prison, one of the muggle prisons. The Ministry assigned custody of Severus to family friends, the Rosiers, until his father is released, which is basically a moot point now, as he turned seventeen in January. Severus was a long time in speaking, and seldom smiled. I don't think I saw a smile until his third year...that Regulus is a merry sort, he can be infectious, very good for Severus, that boy. But he took solace mostly in books, in learning. In Severus' case, we were well aware that what happened to him caused him to withdraw, to trust no one. Other than yourself, there's but one person he has befriended in all his years here, the one I mentioned, a younger boy of our House, from a fine family. Regulus Black, and two friends he had in earlier childhood, one of them young Rosier, are his only companions."

Taking another nibble of crystallised pineapple, Slughorn continued, "Miss Granger, Severus Snape is the brightest academic star of Slytherin House. He studies furiously, but he wouldn't need to--much of his talent is instinctive. He had an amazing mother, she was also a student of mine, a genius at Potions, even while having to learn English when she arrived--why, she was quite high up in her department at the Ministry, and..."

Professor McGonagall loudly cleared her throat, and Professor Slughorn had the good grace to look flustered. Apparently he'd said more than Hermione should have heard. Hermione resisted the urge to groan despite her upset for Severus. All these warnings about 'not saying too much,' and even the teachers couldn't seem to avoid it!

"Yes, well," Professor Slughorn continued anew, "She was an amazing student and a good mother, and the loss of her affected Severus in ways we will probably never know. But one thing we do know is that he is, I suppose one could say, 'emotionally delicate?' Very self-protective...and it is disturbing to think that of all people, he has come to trust you--the one person of whom he should know nothing! It isn't that you wouldn't be a good friend to him, but...to a boy in his 'tender' condition, well..." he clucked, as he took another sip of tea.

"As I said," picked up Professor McGonagall, "Professor Dumbledore and I never thought he would become close to you. You may soon be gone into the future once more, and then what of Mr. Snape? In a young life of loss, he will lose you too, and that is why you are being separated now, before you become any closer. Do you now understand why this is the right thing to do? It isn't because we wish to make anyone suffer. But the suffering will be greater still if you continue this 'friendship.' Greater for both of you."

Hermione still couldn't speak. She felt as if a lead weight lay across her heart. Professor McGonagall leaned over and patted her arm. "I am sorry, Hermione. But it is for the best. Why don't you try to get some rest? I don't think you slept at all well last night. We'll have some books brought here tomorrow." she said, and Hermione could tell she was trying to ease things. McGonagall rose, and, vanishing the teaset and table, went to the door. Professor Slughorn followed. "Try to sleep, Miss Granger."

They exited, Professor Slughorn giving Hermione one last sympathetic shake of his head. She heard him mutter after the door was closed, "Such a shame, such a bright, pretty little thing..."

Hermione sat quietly, watching the fire, though her thoughts were of Severus, and herself. In muggle school, when she was very young, she'd done well in studies, but during those early school years, she'd had 'episodes,' times when magic occurred spontaneously. Once she had been waiting with her friends for the bus and a dog had run into the road in front of a car. Hermione had reached out her hands to the dog and it had been lifted into the sky, held above the car until it had passed. That, and other incidents, had frightened the other children and worried her parents. She'd been so thrilled to understand what she really was, and have the opportunity to be a real witch. But it hadn't eased her fears, just introduced new ones.

When she'd come to Hogwarts, she'd been petrified she'd be seen as a foolish, know-nothing muggle, though she hid it behind a bravada that was, she saw now, rather silly. Books, books, books...all the secrets that lay within books, and how a frightened child can use those books--not just for the secrets within, waiting to be discovered, but to push the secrets of oneself from one's mind...the things you don't want to know, don't want to acknowledge, the secrets you want to hide from yourself and everyone else...such security in a good book. Severus knew the secrets and security of books and study.

Severus. To come here as a child, alone, practically orphaned, right after what he'd seen his father do...and people always felt sorry for Harry. Harry didn't even remember his parent's deaths. His parents were killed by a monster of a wizard, it wasn't one killing the other. Somehow, what had happened to Severus seemed worse. Did Severus love his father? Or hate him? A small moan escaped Hermione's lips as she thought of what Severus had told her. One of the boys, Sirius Black, had known what happened to his mother, and had bullied him, using Severus' grief as a weapon. How evil was Sirius Black, to do such a thing? Evil enough to see Harry's parents killed. Were some people born evil?

Hermione rose as if drugged and lay down on her bed, curling up on her side. Her eyes felt dry and they burned. Severus would be hurt when she went away. Perhaps the teachers were right? But it hurt so much to be alone, too, to have no one who understood. And for the first time in her life, Hermione felt she'd found someone who understood. I want to be with you, Severus Snape. I want to hold you. I want to comfort you, and be comforted, and they say it will only make things worse. Whatever I feel, I feel it's wrong to feel it. Hermione rubbed her eyes and the tears began...tears for both of them. They didn't stop until she was asleep

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Please leave any comments here, please. I'd love to read them!

Hi! Time for Chapter 8. I hope I get to post it, VTM is acting very weird lately!

There is a song that inspired the next two chapters--I'd love if you could give it a listen, since it's wonderful and sets the stage so well. It's Loreena McKennitt's

Night Ride Across the Caucasus

It's got a fun slideshow of pics from the movie Hidalgo with Viggo Mortensen, but it'd be best if you just listen to it, read the lyrics, and think of Sev and Hermione.

Lyrics:

Artiste: Loreena McKennitt
Album Title: The book of secrets
Song Title: Night Ride Across the Caucasus
------------------------
Ride on * Through the night * Ride on
Ride on * Through the night * Ride on

There are visions, there are memories
There are echoes of thundering hooves
There are fires, there is laughter
There's the sound of a thousand doves

In the velvet of the darkness
By the silhouette of silent trees
They are watching, they are waiting
They are witnessing life's mysteries

Cascading stars on the slumbering hills
They are dancing as far as the sea
Riding o'er the land, you can feel its gentle hand
Leading on to its destiny

Take me with you on this journey
Where the boundaries of time are now tossed
In cathedrals of the forest
In the words of the tongues now lost

Find the answers, ask the questions
Find the roots of an ancient tree
Take me dancing, take me singing
I'll ride on till the moon melts the sea

And now, finally->

Chapter Eight--Severus' Sky

Severus scratched carefully on the windowpane. He was fairly certain it was Hermione's window, yet his stomach twitched with nervous tension. The last thing in the world he wanted was to see Professor McGonagall opening this window and leaning out to find him there. Making it harder still was the need to be quiet! If he wasn't very careful with noise, it would be her head he'd spy even if it was Hermione's room.

He couldn’t believe the change that had come over him when Professor McGonagall had stopped them from meeting. He'd become truly rebellious for the first time in his life—and he enjoyed it. Immensely. Trying to meet with Hermione was patently wrong, he knew that. He'd been forbidden to see her again, yet he had determined to do it. It would certainly mean detention if he were caught; it might mean expulsion. He didn't care enough to stop himself. He was using the Time-Turner for his own personal purposes now, which was another misdeed, done in violation of the oath he'd made to Professor Slughorn when it had been given to him. He didn't care at all about that. How else was he supposed to go to class, do his homework, get some sleep, find Hermione, and plot against Gbenisola and Sirius Black? He wasn't a super-wizard! More than once Wilkes had punched his arm and snarled at him to stay on task while they plotted, for despite Severus' determination to keep his activities separated in his mind, it constantly betrayed him, drawing up images of Hermione, an irresistible distraction. But they knew about her, so the punches were never hard. Usually Sterling’s snarl would be followed by a wink—he knew what Severus was feeling.

He'd expected his mates to take the mickey out of him about Hermione, but they hadn't. They'd seemed pleased for him; as if he'd finally done something they thought everyone should do. Regulus kept asking if she was ‘foxy.’ He told them what she looked like and basked in their raunchy remarks about his taste in women. They wanted to meet her.

Oh, they had no idea she was from the future, he wasn't going to give her secret away. And they certainly didn't know she was a future Gryffindor—and they never would! They thought she was McGonagall's visiting niece, forbidden to see Severus again. They chose to believe it was because he was a Slytherin, which just made them more determined to bait Black, one of her 'precious Griffies.' He didn't discourage them; to tell them the truth would endanger Hermione. And besides, he thought Professor McGonagall deserved it!

They’d already accomplished the first part of their plan. Paige, Evan’s younger sister, had been instrumental in that. She didn’t mind helping out, in fact, she’d been glad to do it. She, like most of the girls, didn’t like Gbenisola.

So now, he’d spent three nights, hovering at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, intently watching the first-floor windows which he knew belonged to Professor McGonagall's private quarters. He watched for a shadow, for anything. But the only shadow against the drapes that he'd seen was that of his teacher; the only person who opened her windows was she. Finally he'd had to surmise that the windows that never opened must be Hermione's. That wasn't a good sign--it wasn't healthy. He was worried about her. Every day since she'd been able to, she'd always sat in the window of the infirmary, taking in the sun, letting it help heal her. A girl like her--she needed the light. To be near her, he'd had to be in the light, too. It wasn't unpleasant, though he preferred the shadows. People don't see all of you when you're in the shadows. Hermione, he pleaded with her in his thoughts, come on, open the window, please! Frustrated, he tapped faintly with one finger...and was thrilled and frightened to hear the sound of the window being unlatched. Quickly, he dipped below the level of the window, just in case.

"Hmmm. No owl." he heard her sigh from above. It was Hermione! Heart singing, he rose again, his finger already cautiously held to his lips. She jumped back with a gasp, her eyes wide. He couldn't help but grin. She wore a long white nightdress with lace on the sleeves and collar. It must have been one of McGonagall’s. She looked so sweet.

"Hermione." he whispered. "I've been hoping you'd open your window."

Hermione seemed to recover herself quickly, but she still said, incredulous, "You have...how do you have one of those? They're banned!"

He couldn’t wait any longer. "Hermione, come out. Come on. It's safe. No one will see." He held his hand out to her in encouragement, but his breath caught, and his heart thudded in his chest, when she seemed to draw back. The pounding intensified when she sadly shook her head. "Hermione...why not? What's wrong? Are you ill?"

She only pressed her forehead to the wood frame as if needing the support, not looking at him.

"Hermione." He rose to her, coming as close as he could. "I won't go away until you tell me. I'll stay here all night if I have to. I'll stay till they see me and we get in trouble, if this is the only time I'll see you."

"You would, too. I know it." she sighed. "Severus, I can't. They say...they say I'll make you suffer if I see you again, worse than if I left you alone now. I will only make it worse, don't you see?"

The nervous feeling he'd had in his stomach curdled and solidified into hot anger. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he hissed. "I want you, Hermione. I'm suffering more for the lack of you. Come with me." But she only began to cry, shaking her head. Determined, he reached across, touching her arm. "You're suffering too, I know it. You never open your windows. You look pale, and it isn't good for you. I want you to come with me. Hermione...come with me."

"They told me about..." she gasped, choking back a sob, "About your mother. What happened...how she died."

She finally looked up and faced him when he couldn't control the shaking in his arm. He knew his eyes were aflame with a fury he couldn't quell, and he didn't want her to think he was angry with her. He was the one who dropped them this time. Fighting to keep his tone calm, though his voice was shaking as well, he replied, "That was personal. That was my personal business. That was not for them to tell."

He felt her take his hand, and looked up. Her other hand reached out and caressed his sleeve. "I know. I know it is. But they feel that after such a loss, that to spend time with me, and then to have me leave, well, it would hurt you too much."

"Hang what they feel!" he hissed. "To hell with their meddling! I'm of age, Hermione, and it happened six years ago! Maybe when someone is old like them, that seems like yesterday, but what the hell do they think I was doing all this time? Crying in my juice? I've been studying! And working it out." he panted, trying to calm himself. "I'm sorry. But Hermione...don't do this. Don't shut yourself away! I want you with me. If I have to, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. I just...I didn't tell you about my mother yet because I didn't want you to feel sorry for me, to spend time with me out of pity."

"I wouldn't have done!" she exclaimed, then jumped as she realised she'd been too loud. Whispering now, she pulled him closer. "I wouldn't have done, don't you relaise that? Don't you know how much I admire you? How much I've needed you? It's been awful since they put me here." she looked deeply into his eyes and he shivered, though not from anger. "Did you spend time with me out of pity?"

"No...never." he proclaimed, surprised. "At first, I was simply fascinated. Then it turned to something else...admiration, I guess. Hermione...come out.” He caressed her cheek, smoothing the tears over it. He felt them cool on his fingers and evaporate. “Come out and play. We'll go where we can speak aloud, and laugh, and talk all night. Or do this..." he hovered even closer, pulling Hermione partially outside the window frame and into his arms. Threading his hands into her soft curls, he kissed her. He heard her sigh and felt there was never a moment in time so fine as this, no girl as special. Reluctantly releasing her, he whispered urgently, "Come with me."

Pulling back, she gazed into his eyes for a long moment, her arms still around his neck. Then, bracing herself against him, she stepped up and through the window. He held her fast, kissing her again, then carefully sat down with her. "Here, this is for you."

She admired the grey velvet cloak he placed around her shoulders. "It's beautiful. And this is beautiful." She caressed the bright wool of the carpet. "However did you get a flying carpet? They're banned!"

"Are they?" he smiled, as they floated away from Hermione's window and out into the night.

**************************************

They flew for miles, high in the sky. Severus had not felt so happy in years. He was in heaven, or close to it, with Hermione. There was no better place to be. His risk had been well worth the reward.

"The flying carpet isn't banned, Hermione. Is it in the future?" She nodded. "Well, that's strange. Why?"

"They say it's a muggle object and can't be imported or enchanted."

"That's not strange then, it's stupid!" he scoffed. "Brooms are muggle objects, too. And candles, and cauldrons, and books too! And we enchant those things all the time. I'll bet it's just the British broom makers getting in a snit because it cuts into their profits. Carpets are nice! Will they confiscate the ones already here?"

"I don't know. But I do know that I like it." Hermione smiled. "I don't really like brooms much--too much looking down."

Severus laughed. "And no way to do this." he snuggled Hermione closer. "I've waited all my life to do this."

They said nothing for awhile, just held fast to each other, watching the stars and the low-lying clouds. Severus found himself fighting with his own mind. For an idea was forming there, a dangerous thought, and it kept niggling at him, refusing to go away. He found himself rationalising...was Professor McGonagall right? Is it harmful to be with Hermione now? Will it make it harder to let her go when it comes time to do so? In his heart, he knew it would, though it didn't really matter. For the idea that was forming in his mind, which refused to let go, was...why did she have to go back at all? Could he convince her to stay? Hide her away? How much trouble could it possibly cause to anyone? She said her own friends hated her. She was lonely in the future, and he wanted her here! Would it be so wicked to steal her away? Would she agree to it? Were his feelings for her that strong, that he might risk it? But he knew the answer to that. He'd seen the proof. What about her feelings? He would have to find out.

"Severus?"

"Hmmm?"

"Where did you get this carpet?"

"It was my mum's. It's been in our family for over 600 years."

"Oh, how wonderful! And it looks new!"

"The history of this carpet is the history of my family."

"Tell me?"

"Soon."

"When?"

"As soon..." he pointed slightly off to the right, "As we pass over that mountain. We'll land on the other side."

"What's there?"

He softly kissed her ear, then whispered, "Eager student Hermione..." and felt her delicious shiver."Wait."

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A/N for North American readers: First floor in the case of Professor McGonagall's quarters is what we think of as the second floor. The first floor in Europe is the Ground Floor. So, taking into account how high the ceilings are on the main floor at Hogwarts, it's no small distance to the ground outside, should one happen to fall! Just thought I'd mention that in case anyone found it to be confusing!
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Thanks so much for reading! Please feel free to leave comments here.

Chapter Nine--Hermione's Heat

As they sailed over the mountain ridge, Hermione could feel the temperature shift to one that was slightly warmer. The air had a tang to it, salty like the sea. And in the distance, she could see it, its waters glimmering in the moonlight.

"Time to settle, then," murmured Severus, taking out his wand. Keeping one arm around Hermione's shoulder, holding his wand to the edge, he made the carpet sweep about in circles, slowly, steadily. Hermione felt her breath catch as she saw what he was doing. For below them stood an ancient forest. The trees were so thick and tall that had it been any other time of year, she would not have been able to see through the foliage. Now, in March, some were bare of leaves, with only their new buds beginning to unfurl. Her view blocked only by the evergreens, which were sparse here.

As they circled, Hermione could hear Severus speaking low, in words she couldn't quite catch, yet she was fairly sure they weren't English words. And below them, the trees began to groan and click as they moved their branches aside in a circle, showing a small, open meadow beneath.

Hermione felt as if her mind was one with the carpet--circling, spinning almost. And yet, the strange thing was, she also had never felt so clear-headed. It was as if she were merely surprised at the ease with which she was becoming one with her new world. Yet, only an hour ago, she had felt so alone and out-of-place. Her tranquility seemed to be entirely dependent on Severus' presence. Was that a good sign, or a bad one? What did it mean? She didn't know. She knew only that her heart was pounding with excitement, and that tears perched precariously on the insides of her eyelids--she could feel them balancing there. It would take so little now to push them up and over, but they weren't there because of sadness or pity or shock. Hermione was happy. Very happy. The wind was lifting her hair, Severus' strong arm was secure about her, the nearly-full moon shimmered in its dark sky...at this moment, everything she had once thought magic would mean, was. The future was only an illusion. She, and Severus, were the here and now.

They suddenly swept downward and Severus gave a small whoop. Hermione felt herself laugh, joyous at his elation. They swooped down between branches, coming gently to rest upon the ground. It was hard ground, with evening frost lying upon it. Hermione looked up. The sky was so bright! The trees slowly closed over the space once more, but she could still see by the light of the stars, twinkling through the branches. She shivered.

Severus stood, holding his arms out, his wand vibrating, and Hermione gasped as dead twigs and branches came from between the trees and settled themselves in a neat pile. Severus squatted, pointed his wand at a patch of ground, and Hermione heard him whisper, "Terrawasi." A pile of earth about three feet across came from the place and settled nearby. He then levitated some of the wood into the hole and set it ablaze.

"That is so much better." he announced, whirling about and gracefully settling near Hermione once more.

Severus, what is this place?" asked Hermione.

"Just a forest. I don't know it's name. I don't know if it has one." he replied. "But my mother and I would come here sometimes, when she needed to be far away from the rest of the world. This place was enchanted by her. It responds to her, and now to me. When I ask the trees to part, they do."

Hermione moved to face Severus. "Please tell me about your mother. What was she like?"

Severus sighed. Biting his lower lip for a moment, he considered. "She was like a puzzle. She was like a puzzle with mirrors. She showed a different face to everyone, whatever she thought they wanted to see. Sleight-of hand, sleight-of-face. Whatever she felt would keep her safe. She trusted so few."

"Why was that?" Hermione inquired gently.

Severus shook his head slightly. "She'd seen too much, I think. Too many bad things." He reached for her hand and she gave it, and he sat, cross-legged, caressing it, looking at it. "She wasn't English. She was Romanian, but more than that. She was one of the Romany."

"What are the Romany?"

Severus chuckled softly, taking Hermione's hand to his lips, kissing it softly. Only then did he look up into her eyes. "I told you that you were a gypsy princess, Hermione. Do you remember?" She nodded, holding her breath in anticipation. "My mother really was a gypsy princess. So I know one when I see one."

"Was she? Was she really?" Hermione breathed.

"Before she came to England, her name was Eleni Voivode. It was anglicised, to make it easier for her to fit in. Not that it really worked out that way, she was still a bit of an outsider. They changed her name to Eileen Prince."

"Why did she come here?"

"World War II. You've heard of that? The muggle war?"

Hermione nodded.

"The German armies came into Romania, started rounding up the gypsies. My grandfather made my mother get on the carpet and fly away, ahead of the troops. He stayed behind. She never saw him again. When she arrived in England, she had the clothes on her back, and two other belongings. That's all. One was the carpet."

Hermione saw the pain of memory in Severus' eyes. "Why didn't your grandfather come? It must have been awful for her to be all alone. Where was her mother?"

"It was hard, she said. She was only twelve. Her father was missing, her mother had died when she only four. The Ministry didn't know what to do with her-they had their own troubles. Finally a foster family was found, somewhere she could go in summers when Hogwarts let out. They were good to her, as they are good to me...the Rosiers. They've taken us both in when we needed them. As for my grandfather, well...I wasn't lying about the princess part. Vladimir Voivode, that was my grandfather. Prince of the Romany. His clan at least."

"I don't understand. They were magical, weren't they? Couldn't they just use magic and leave?"

Severus shook his head. "Hermione, being a prince isn't just about having everyone do what you tell them to, or being in charge, or wielding power. You have to take care of people, they count on you! A lot of my grandfather's clan weren't magical, and they needed him. Do you remember, that night when I read aloud to you in the infirmary? At one time, muggles and wizards worked and lived together. In my grandfather's clan, it was still like that, though they kept that knowledge from the rest of the world. And there was another threat, that wizard called Grindelwald. He was finding the magical people, too, making things worse. No one was safe from him, not in any country. You knew that Dumbledore defeated him, didn't you?" Hermione nodded. "My grandfather stayed for the muggles in his clan, but also to fight this wizard should he approach them. Yet he wasn't willing to risk my mother, that's why he sent her over the Mediterranean and to England."

"But what happened to him?"

"We never found out. We fear he may have stayed with his clan even unto death, in a trench, or a camp, perhaps, those hellish places...we just don't know and probably never will. I'm sure he did all he could for his people, gave all he could. Sometimes that is what a prince must do."

"Severus, that doesn't make sense. Why wouldn't he use magic to save them all?"

Severus had gone back to observing Hermione's hand. "He couldn't, could he? We can't show it in public, can we? And he was afraid that if his magic were found out, it would only make things worse." He shook his head. "There's so much we never found out, so many unanswered questions remain. We went back once. We went back to Romania when I was about eight. There were some people my mother was able to find--people of her clan. Hermione, it...it was so sad. There were so very few. But it was also wonderful. They spoke my mother's first language, and you wouldn't have believed how changed she seemed, just to be able to speak it and be understood. They had tales of my grandfather's bravery, too, because they survived. He helped as many as he could do, without it being too obvious. There was a younger woman, a mere child when it happened, and she remembered looking out from her hiding place and seeing my grandfather being led away with many of his people. He never came back."

Hermione sat quiet, taking in the information. So much loss in this family. So much desolation.

Severus continued, "They told me I should come back to them when I was grown, and be their prince. They told me they could become a mighty clan again, if I did."

"Would you do it?"

Severus gave his soft chuckle agian. "I don't know. Perhaps. I don't know how much of a leader I could be. Besides, I'm supposed to be a Hogwarts teacher. You said so!" he winked, working to shake off his melancholy.

Hermione smiled. "Severus, tell me about the carpet."

"My, my, Miss Granger, you never let up, do you?" he smirked. "All right, if you insist. Well, this carpet we are sitting on was made in Turkey, back when it was still the Ottoman Empire. My ancestor was sent there as a political hostage, and the Sultan gave it to him."

"What? Who?" sputtered Hermione.

"Where the princes all began, Hermione. My ancestor was called Radu. Radu the Handsome, Prince of Wallachia." he smiled. "And get this. My mother told me I have his face. Ha! Like she'd know."

"Well, maybe she did know!" Hermione winked back. "I think you are. Handsome, I mean."

Severus' smile faded. "I'm not. Please don't lie."

Hermione stared at Severus. He didn't think he was handsome. Why not? Who had made him think so? They were wrong, very wrong. "Severus," she said quietly, reaching up to caress his cheek. "I have never lied to you. I never will. You have a strong face. It's...exotic."

Severus bit his lower lip to keep from laughing out loud. "Exotic." he scoffed.

"Well, yes! I really like it. Besides, you shouldn't judge what's handsome by what the film stars look like or whatever. That's just shallow. Certain people are attracted to certain other people, and maybe a face that won't please one girl would please another. Well, maybe I'm that other!" she smiled. "So stop with saying bad things, all right? You are impugning my taste in men!"

Severus kissed her hand again. He didn't say anything more about faces, but his cheeks had that peach blush again, and his dark eyes glowed. Hermione knew she had hit the right spot with what she'd said and it made her feel like she was glowing as well. "All right, now who was Radu the Handsome?"

Severus grinned. "You'll never believe."

Hermione almost shouted, "Severus, come on! Don't tease! You are such a one for drawing things out! Who was he?"

Severus leaned forward, and kissed her quickly. "I don't draw things out, you interrupt and I lose the chain of thought!" He pretended to glare at her. "Radu was the son of Vlad Dracul, so named for his family's allegiance to the Order of the Dragon. He was appointed military governor of Transylvania by King Sigismond, then he ended up killing the bloke and taking over as prince."

"Vlad Dracul?" Hermione breathed, incredulous. "Not that evil one who impaled people! That's hideous!"

"No, no, not him! The father of that one. Radu was brother to him, by a different mum. Vlad was a piece of work, wasn't he?"

"A piece of work? A piece of..." Hermione choked. "Severus, he was a monster!"

Yes, he was! But I'm not descended from him, OK?" Severus held up his hands in supplication. "If it's any consolation, Radu was the one people liked, OK?"

"Wow..." Hermione sighed, eyes round. "You are related to that madman..."

"Will you quit?" Severus laughed, then smirked, "You know, I'll bet there are a few loonies in your family closet, too. Every family has at least one."

"Mine! Ha!" snorted Hermione. "They're boring. They're muggles. My parents are dentists."

Severus threw his head back and roared with laughter.

"What?" Hermione demanded, feigning indignance. "What about that?"

Severus was wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. "I don't know, I guess...I think you're a powerful witch, and I guess I was supposing your dad must be Minister for Magic or something, and here he is, a dentist!"

"Oh, shut up, you!" Hermione laughed, pushing Severus. "You are being awful, you mean Slytherin!" She found herself in a mock wrestling match. "Just because..." she pushed Severus onto his back, "You descend from princes..." he grabbed her wrists, "Doesn't mean..." she gasped as Severus pulled her onto him, "My family is nothing." She gasped again as he sat up, rolling her over and under him, where he pinned her kicking legs to the carpet with his thigh across her knees.

He was looking at her with an intensity his breezy quip didn't quite conceal. "I didn't say that. You said they were boring." He leaned up. I'll bet they're not..." he breathed in her ear, then began kissing it, ignoring her attempts to rise. "After all, they made you." His kisses trailed slowly up her jawline, and Hermione stopped fighting.

This was different, what he was doing. This was...it wasn't kissing, well it was, but...why did it make her feel so strange? It felt so good! She found her eyes drifting closed as she tried to take in the sensation. It was like nothing she'd ever felt...was this what it felt like to be...excited? That way? A vague thought of whispered conversations in her dorm at night came back to her-- Lavender and Parvati, giggling about boys. They hadn't included her, but she had listened nonetheless, and now she knew what it really meant. She felt it all, his soft lips, the weight of his leg, so warm, the hands he'd had on her shoulders easing, as he no longer needed to hold her down by force. She felt his kisses stop when he reached her chin, and she opened her eyes. He was watching her.

His face was ardent but uncertain. "Was that, all right?" he asked, gulping. "I...well..."

Hermione couldn't speak. Severus Snape, the teacher she feared, who never missed a step, who never cracked a smile...lying halfway on top of her, worried he wasn't pleasing her! He had been young once, unsure, as she was...he is young...now. This is not the past any more. She lifted her hand, caressing his jawline with her fingertip, tracing the same path he'd made on hers with his lips. Even that seemed to excite him--she thrilled as he shuddered slightly and his eyes closed. She took his face in her hands and lowered it to hers.

They kissed slowly, taking the time to feel each sensation. Hermione was surprised at how it was. She still had thoughts, wondered...it wasn't like Lavender had said at all. But then she felt the tip of Severus' tongue sweep along her lips, questing...and her mind shut down. She put her hands in his hair, ran them down to caress the nape of his neck, his shoulders...she felt the heat rising in her, and right then, she only knew that Severus was the whole world.

Before long, it was Severus who finally came up for air, who slowed things down. Sitting up, he stared at Hermione as he caught his breath. "If we were in Romania..." he panted, "Things would be different." He held out his hand and helped her to sit up. She snuggled next to him, snaking her arms around his waist under his cloak.

"How would it be different?" she asked dreamily.

She smiled into his hair as he squeezed her close. "In Romania," he murmured, "In the clan, my father would go to your father and have a meeting. Your father, and other male relatives, would declare to my father what a wonderful catch you were, and sing your praises. Your father and my father would decide on a price for you, not to pay for you, like you were a goat or something, but for the loss to your family. And once that was paid, we would stand together and declare ourselves married, and we would not have to stop...doing what we were doing just now."

Hermione pulled back, her eyes wide. "Married?"

Severus shrugged. "Despite the gypsy reputation for 'hot blood,' virginity is prized. Which is probably why, in the clan, a girl your age would be married by now."

"But I'm fourteen!"

"I know! It seems crazy, doesn't it? I always thought it did, that is...until tonight. I never thought anyone would be so good to me, as you have. I won't hurt you, Hermione. I care about you too much. That...the rest, you know...not until marriage would I ask that."

"I understand what you mean. I guess I never did till now, either." She continued to hold him, calm and warmed now, resting her head against his chest. "Tell me more about your family, Severus. About this carpet."

He chuckled softly. "All right. Where was I when you attacked me and nearly ravished me?" he laughed as she playfully slapped his shoulder. "Oh yes. Radu the Handsome and his mad-as-a-hatter brother were princes of Wallachia, a small piece of mountainous land in Romania, which, at that time, formed the boundary between Christendom and the Islamic Empire. The princes of that land had to tread very carefully as a result, it was always tense. Most of the history of that time is just one long game of cross, double-cross, diplomacy, war...eventually, as a sort of allegiance offering, the two brothers were sent to Constantinople, to the Sultan Mohammed, where, according to family legend, Radu learnt all sorts of Old Magic. He was quite young when he arrived and to him, it became home. Not Vlad though. He was already thirteen by then. And was, unfortunately, a squib. They say that's what drove him mad and made him so cruel. At one point he even approached the vampires, hoping they'd convert him so he could get their powers. They turned him down, but he liked to make people think they hadn't. But when young, Vlad was determined to get back to Wallachia and fight in whatever battles there might be. Radu loved Constantinople. He stayed several more years, and when he was finally sent back to the icy mountains, it was on this carpet that he came."

"And it's been in the family ever since?"

"Well, sort of...I'll get to that in a bit. See, Hungary backed Vlad to be prince of Wallachia, and Constantinople backed Radu. Both were the prince at various times. Finally the throne went to another royal family altogether. Radu's reign ended with his death. He had a daughter, Maria, who married Stephen, prince of Moldavia. The carpet went with her. And that's where my ancestry goes to the wrong side of the blanket."

Hermione pulled back to grin at Severus. "Oh my...how did that happen?"

"Not by accident," he smiled, pulling her back against him. "Stephen was off fighting wars a lot, and despite his reputation as a holy man, fathered over twenty children with women who were not Maria. However, what doesn't get into any of the muggle history books is that two played that game. Maria fell in love with the leader of a Romany clan that was nearby at that time. She got Romany midwives, had a son, and had them sneak the baby from the castle, giving him to his father, the leader of the gypsies. She told her husband in a letter sent to the front that the baby had died. He had always thought it was his baby--he never suspected his wife did as he did. And the carpet went to the son she had had by the man she loved...along with...another artifact."

Hermione's head snapped up again. "What artifact?"

"Do you always interrupt?" he asked in mock irritation. "I shall have to correct that bad habit, Miss Granger."

"Sorry...Sir..." she giggled into his cloak.

"That's better, Missy. All right. So the carpet went to the half-Romany baby, who of course was considered full-Romany because his father was. And that carpet has been passed down to the eldest child of the family regardless of sex, since then. And now it is mine."

"And the other artifact?"

Severus made an exasperated sound. "Relentless, she's relentless!" he laughed. "Yes. That's mine too."

Hermione slowly raised her head and met his eyes. "Severus, why are you hesitant about it? Do you not want to talk about it?"

Severus sighed. Loosening his hold on her, he shifted slightly back. "Hermione, the artifact is a blessing or a curse, depending on the circumstance. And to tell you of it would be to tell you something I am afraid would scare you. I don't want to do that."

Hermione felt butterflies in her stomach. Her brow furrowed. "Why would it scare me?"

Frowning slightly now, nervous, Severus began to pull a chain from under his jumper. Unlike the fine gold chain of the Time-Turner, though, this chain was of heavy silver. At the end of it dangled a golden ring. Hermione reached out and pinched it between her fingers, turning it to the firelight, and gasped. It was beautiful. Not too large, yet heavy, it bore an insignia of two dragons. Flying in a circle, each devoured the other's tail. In the centre of the dragons lay a perfect emerald. It picked up firelight and moonlight and shone them back.

"Why, it's exquisite! It's lovely! Why should it scare me?"

"Not in itself, Hermione. I can't, I shouldn't tell you."

Hermione was terribly disappointed, but she couldn't be angry. He had warned her.

"Can you tell me another time?"

"Another time, yes. I hope so." He tucked the chain back into its hiding place. Then he stood, stretching. Hermione smiled, admiring him in the moonlight. "Hermione, my bum is asleep, isn't yours? Come on, get up!" He helped her to her feet, then began to turn with her.

"I can't dance!" she cried, laughing.

"Everyone can dance! And if you're going to be a proper gypsy princess, you must dance 'round the fire and make love to the night! Come on!" And despite her protests, he whirled her around the firepit. "Can't you hear the music? Dance with me!" She didn't hear any music, but he seemed to, and he led her. She laughed, and she danced. She was safe. She was happy. She was with Severus, the gypsy prince.

**************************************

Dawn was just beginning to creep over the trees of the Forbidden Forest when Severus brought Hermione back to her window. Helping her inside, he leaned in for one last kiss.

"Sweet dreams to my sweet Hermione." he whispered.

"And to you."

"Oh, not quite yet. I have one more thing to do before I rest." he winked.

She didn't even bother to ask. She could tell he wouldn't say. She was beginning to know how to read his expressions. "Tell me later?"

"Probably." he laughed. "I'll come back on Wednesday night, all right?"

"Yes. Good-night!" She watched Severus sail away into the ever-lightening sky, then turned and hugged herself. She took off the grey velvet cloak, admiring it briefly before folding it and hiding it in the bottom drawer of her wardrobe. Singing softly to herself, she twirled about the room, reliving the night. The loveliest, most magical night of her life.

Finally, dizzy and tired, she lay down on her little bed, pulling the covers up to her chest. She lay still for a moment, making plans. When morning came, again, she would ask Professor McGonagall if she might go to the library. And Wednesday...Wednesday night. Maybe Severus would tell more stories. She sighed. She wanted to know what really had happened to Eileen Prince. But it was not a story Severus might ever wish to tell.

She pulled the fine gold chain out from under the covers. Spinning the Time-Turner back the required six hours, she watched the window as the night descended once more. She fell asleep almost at once, unaware of the secret visitor to her room. If she had remained one second longer, she would have heard the gasp of shock and surprise that followed on her departure back through time.


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Chapter Ten—Self-Satisfied Severus

The fire burned brightly, illuminating the branches of the trees from underneath, giving them the appearance of ghostly protectors. It drove the mist to the shadows. Hermione danced around the fire, her skirts billowing out, the ruffled hem rising and showing her pretty legs. She danced, singing the old Romany tunes his mother had once sung, her voice sweet, and clear, and high. Her shawl shimmered in the night, its beaded fringe sending glittering sparks of light around her in a shower of brilliance, and her dark gypsy eyes sparkled. When her song was finished, she came to him at last, dropping her shawl to the ground on her way, pulling at the ribbon holding the neckline of her peasant blouse; it was falling down from her shoulders as he reached for her…

"Mr. Snape? Ahem...Mr. Snape?"

“Hmmm? Wha…?” Severus began, startled into awareness.

“Mr. Snape, I do not appreciate daydreaming in my classroom. Save your musings for your own time. Five points from Slytherin.” reprimanded Professor McGonagall.

“Sorry, Professor,” Severus murmured in most respectful tone, waiting until the teacher’s back was turned to glare at James Potter and Sirius Black, sitting side-by-side in the front row of desks, sniggering. Three rows back, Peter Pettigrew joined in. Severus noticed Remus Lupin nudging the chubby boy’s shoulder, urging his eyes back to his work.

Evan leant over and whispered in his ear. “Must have been some date last night, eh? Preciously good?” His friend received no spoken reply, just a grin and a nod. Severus sat up straight, shaking his head, as if to clear the fantasies from his mind. It was no use. Visions of Hermione’s sweet face and slender form possessed his thoughts night and day now, work or play. He smiled to himself. If it were not for Hermione, his concentration today would be absolute. For today was a day for settling a few scores.

“Homework, please.” Professor McGonagall requested. As the parchments all made their way to the front of the rows, she continued, “Pages 415 through 475 in your books, and one roll of parchment for next Monday on the proper methods for transfiguring animals into furniture. Choose five different animals, including at least one aquatic creature. Thank you, good day.”

Severus, Evan, and Sterling kept furtive eyes on the parchments as McGonagall tucked them inside her case. Once they saw that the parchments were secure, they packed up and followed their teacher from the room.

“Well…” remarked Sterling in a low tone as they left the room, “Three down, four to go. Fantastically easy enough, right?”

“Oh, sure, for you, you prat! You weren’t the one flying around Gryffindor Tower in the middle of the night, peering in windows, ‘acchio-ing’ like a madman! It smelled like an unwashed banshee in there!” Severus smirked, and Evan bit his lip to keep from laughing. This was going to be an amazing day!

The next class was Potions.

Severus and his partner, Sterling Wilkes, finished early as usual, carefully tapping sealing corks into their flasks. Slughorn was in a playful mood this day, and was letting them experiment. Severus loved the days when Slughorn was playful. Besides, it made it that much easier for them to implement their plan.

He peered over a few bent heads to a table near the front of the room, making sure the timing was right. Leaving the clean-up to Sterling, as planned, he strode purposefully to the Professor’s desk with two of their bottles. After whispering the purpose of their potion to his Head of House and receiving a hearty grin and a ‘Well done!’ in answer, he asked loudly, “Professor Slughorn, I wonder if I might have a word with Lily Evans?” Heads snapped up all around the room. Everyone knew Lily couldn’t abide Severus Snape, not since last Spring.

“Er, of course, of course, I don’t see why not. Miss Evans, are you about finished?”

Severus turned to take in James’ and Lily’s resentful glares. “Almost, Professor,” she answered, “James and I are preparing to bottle now.”

James glowered at Severus for a moment, then murmured to Lily, “You go ahead, I can finish.” In an even lower volume which Severus still managed to pick up, he whispered, “Tell me what he wanted.”

Giving James a resentful look as well, the auburn-haired beauty nodded to Severus. “C’mon,” she spat, gesturing toward the back of the room. He followed dutifully, shooting James Potter a glance of dismissal.

Once there, Lily stood stiffly, her arms crossed defensively in front of her. “What do you want, Severus Snape? I’m busy.” She hissed.

“Oh, I’m sure James can handle things, he’s quite talented.” Severus replied in a normal tone of voice. Several people turned around. He knew the entire room could hear him.

“Well?” was her simple retort. Her emerald eyes narrowed.

“Well…uh…well. I want, well, I want to apologise, alright?”

Lily Evans cocked her head to one side, her eyes narrowing still further. “Oh, really?” she scoffed. Severus glanced back at the room and strived to appear embarrassed. He wasn’t—it was an act. He found he had a talent for it, as all eyes but one pair were exactly where he wanted them to be—on the two of them.

“Well, for last Spring. When I called you a…what I called you. It was wrong of me. I’m very sorry. I’ve felt bad about it ever since. I thought it was time I said so.”

The look in Lily’s eyes was changing. They were widening, and to Severus’ surprise, began to glisten with tears. “Do you mean it? Really mean it?” she asked quietly. And when Severus saw her relieved face, he found he suddenly really did mean it. He was shocked to know that he had truly wounded her when he’d called her a mudblood. And now, there was the spirit of true forgiveness in those bright green eyes, and he remembered anew why he’d had such a crush on her in their second year.

She was ever a kind spirit, as his mother had been. But his mates had informed him that Slytherins never ‘lowered’ themselves to date Gryffindors. Well, maybe not till now, thought Severus, thinking of his Hermione. The thought of her inspired him further. She would approve of this.

“Yes. I…” he hesitated, and found he wasn’t acting anymore. His latent shame felt very real. He cringed inwardly as he felt his cheeks flush with heat. “I am sorry. I was scared, I was striking out. I struck out at you because you were an easy target. That was wrong. You were trying to help. I…well, I didn’t want you to feel I didn’t know that, or that I didn’t care. Well…yeah.” His mouth was suddenly so dry. He swallowed. “So I’m sorry.”

To his secret delight, she offered her slender hand. He took it, a shy smile crossing his lips. “Truce then?” she asked, smiling.

“Truce.” he agreed. He shook her hand. As they turned to go back to their desks, they saw that the entire class was riveted on them. Some faces looked shocked, others, mocking. Professor Slughorn’s mouth was hanging open.

Lily almost bounced back to her seat. Gathering up two corked flasks of their potion for Professor Slughorn, she quipped, “Did you get all that, James, or should we go over it again?”

James flushed red to the roots of his unruly black hair, and he attempted to glare menacingly at Severus, who gave him the most angelic expression he could muster. As a result, James only looked like a petulant child. He dropped his head in embarrassment as several students suppressed chuckles. Evan Rosier could no longer hold it in and laughed out loud.

“Well, well, come on, class, let’s get those potions up here!” requested Professor Slughorn cheerfully, coming back to the matter at hand. “Our time today is almost over, and I’m sure you’re all ready for some lunch. I look forward to discovering what you’ve made today.”

As many of the students crushed to the front of the room with flasks, Severus glanced meaningfully over to the adjoining table, his eyes intent on Evan Rosier, who gave a barely perceptible nod. His elation increased, but only incrementally. His heart was full already.

There was a great deal of bustle following Potions, as usual. It was a messy class and took more time to pack up from than most. Sterling had done most of the work already, so he and Severus were fairly quick in freeing themselves up for lunch. As they passed through the double doors of the dungeon classroom, they encountered Remus Lupin, reclining casually against the opposite wall of the hallway. He had looked as if he were only waiting for his House mates, but this time, he stood up straight upon spying Severus.

“Snape.” He nodded.

Severus sniffed as if offended to be addressed. “What do you want?”

“What you said…what you told Lily…you meant it, didn’t you?”

“So what if I did?”

“Well…it was good of you. She needed to hear it. Thanks.”

Severus felt his disdain for Remus washing over him in waves. “Like I need kudos from you, you useless prat. Save your helpful praise for Pettigrew the Pathetic, all right? That little rat-faced git couldn’t even spell his shoelaces tied without your help.” Sterling snorted in pleased agreement.

Lupin’s face changed from welcoming to wary. “There’s no need to speak like that.”

“I don’t have anything good to say to you.” Severus snapped. He motioned irritably at Remus’ prefect pin. “That badge should have meant something to you. You took it when they gave it to you, put it on, but you don’t honour it, or what it stands for. You just sat there on the grass last Spring and stared at the ground when James did…what he did to me. Those who put favoritism before duty to all, regardless of House, don’t deserve to lead.”

“Like you’d know, Snape,” retorted James Potter, emerging from the classroom, Peter on his heels. “You couldn’t lead a starving mouse to a piece of cheese.”

“Like I’d know!” Severus sneered, his clear voice stopping most of the scurrying students in their tracks. “I know! More than you ever will, you spoilt little cockroach! The way you sniff about for crumbs from his royal Sirius-ness, licking his hand like a begging dog. I know who leads you lot,” he waved his hand at the three of them, “and it isn’t James-bleedin’-Potter! You make me sick!” He watched with satisfaction at the change in people’s faces at his uncharacteristic outburst. Peter edged away from James to stand near Remus.

“Oh yes?” James growled. “How about a replay of Saturday morning, Snivellus? Bring your little girlfriend back? We know about her…”

Severus’ wand was suddenly in his hand without him remembering how it happened. “You don’t talk about her.” He growled. “Ever. Or so help me, I’ll…” but a hand suddenly pushed his wand arm down.

Sterling shoved Severus against the wall. Leaning in, he hissed, “Sev, not now. Not now! Don’t make a complete bollocks of this, you’re so close! Remember…give it all time.” His stormy grey eyes bored into Severus’, and his breath hot in Severus’ ear. Quickly recovering his temper, Severus gave his friend a short nod.

Over Sterling’s shoulder, Severus saw Lily Evans take hold of James’ raised wand arm as well. “James, no! You’ve done damage enough already. Where will it end? When you kill each other? Enough!” James stared at Lily, his mouth open, breathing fast. “Please, James. It’s time to grow up.” She urged Potter to put his wand away. “Please. For me? Just this once?” she pleaded. As Severus watched, the anger in Potter’s eyes faded, to be replaced with acquiescence. He regretfully pocketed his wand, and received his reward. The emerald eyes of Lily Evans glowed. He took her hand and squeezed it, nodding.

“Not just this once, Lily. I’m sorry.” Severus watched as Lily stepped up and kissed James’ cheek. Evan made a gagging noise. Some of their fellow Gryffindors cheered, and most of the students wandered off to eat, chattering on about the unexpected events of the day. James shot Severus a look of bemused triumph and turned away, his arm slipping over Lily’s shoulders.

As the warring parties prepared to depart in opposite directions, Remus tried one more time, “I don’t care what you say, Snape, it was still a good thing you did.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Lassie Lupin.” sneered Evan, his temper rising to replace Severus.’

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” glared James, turning back, ignoring Lily’s attempts to ease him away.

“Lassie Lupin gets the raging cramps once a month. Every single month he disappears, yet he’s never in the hospital wing. About time for you to retreat to your fainting couch isn’t it, luv?” mocked Evan, prancing around in imitation of a mincing coquette. “You know…the monthly flowers, the woman’s curse…about time for your period, Lupina, darling?”

Before anything else could happen, Lily intervened once more. “You give it a rest, Rosier! A chronic illness is nothing to make fun of! God, can’t any of you ever quit?” Turning on her heel, her long auburn hair whipping about, she trounced off in frustration.

“Lily! Hey, Lily!” called James, trotting off to catch up to her, the Slytherins forgotten. With a look that left Severus feeling vaguely guilty, Remus Lupin walked away with his head down.

Sterling turned away from the retreating Gryffindors and glared at his two friends. “What the hell is wrong with you two? Do you want this to work or don’t you? Get your heads out your bums, for God’s sake! We do not need detention today! I for one want to see the fireworks when they start, not be down here in Slughorn’s classroom, cleaning gutworms from salt-slurping leeches! C’mon, let’s get lunch, and for Salazar’s sake, stop acting like mad alecks!” he began to stalk off.

Evan chortled as they caught up, “Wilkes, mate, don’t be so direly constipated. Even if Slug gave us detention, we’d still see some of the show.”

Wilkes smirked. “Oh yeah, like I really want to be down in the Slug’s classroom when he checks Potter’s potion! That’s a bit closer to the show than I prefer! I’m not sure if I could keep a straight face!”

Evan sang out, “Five down, two to go!” Severus had a short moment of panic before he realized that, but for them, the corridor was empty.

Laughing in anticipation of their expected triumph, all three of them playfully slapped each other’s backs and headed up the staircase to the Great Hall, and lunch.

************************************

It was mid-afternoon before their labours began to bear fruit. Passing through the halls with Evan on his way to Charms, Severus almost collided with Professor McGonagall, or…what they suspected was Professor McGonagall. Her robes looked familiar, but her face! It was bright blue! She was chattering on incessantly, none of her words made any sense.

Easing her on her way to the hospital wing was Hermione, upon whom Professor McGonagall was leaning heavily. The teacher didn’t see Severus reach out to grasp Hermione’s hand quickly as they passed, but the gesture was not missed by Evan. Hermione looked upset, and Severus was sorry, but not sorry for McGonagall. She had had it coming, as far as he was concerned.

Keeping their faces carefully neutral, they stood for a moment with the other students, seeming to stare after the bloated Professor. Severus wasn’t watching her, however, his eyes were on Hermione. Continuing on their way, they said nothing for another two flights of stairs, and finally Evan could no longer resist. “So…looks like it worked.”

“Um-hmmm.”

“So…Lupin’s parchment was embedded with…?”

“Babbling curse.”

And Pettigrew’s?”

“Color-change charm.”

Um-hmmm, yep. Definitely worked. Wish my mum could have taught me how to do that.”

“Um-hmmm.”

“So…that’s Hermione, then?”

“Um-hmmm.”

“She a pure-blood then?”

“Um-hmmm.” Severus lied. “Not that it should matter, Rosier, even I’m not a pure-blood, remember?”

“All the more reason you should marry one.” his friend retorted. “That Hermione though…bit of all right, I dare say…highly beddable.”

“Rosier?”

“Um-hmmm?”

“Speak that way about Hermione again and I’ll give you a babbling blue face, all right?”

“Um-hmmm. Understood, mate.”

They clipped along another fifteen feet…

“Besides, she’s more than a bit of all right, Rosier. She’s beautiful.”

“Um-hmmm…agreed.”

“And she’s mine.”

“Um-hmmm.” Another few seconds then, “Share?”

“Rosier!” Severus laughed, as they chased each other down the corridor, gleeful in their success.

******************************************

That evening, the three sixth-years stood around in their dorm room with Regulus, gloating, recapping the day’s events.

“And then what happened?”

“Well, I heard extra help is being brought in from St. Mungo’s for the Slug and McGonagall. After all, it’s a bit much for Madame Pomfrey to handle, all by her lonely ol’ lonesome, especially with Potter and your brother crying and carrying on. You can hear them three flights up from the hospital wing!” chortled Evan.

“I can’t believe what you did to the Slug!” Regulus whispered, worried. “Sev, really! He’s our Head of House!”

“I didn’t ‘blow him up,’ Reg, it wasn’t that dramatic. All he suffers from are some very long toenails that just won’t seem to stop growing. It’ll wear off by morning. Besides, I didn’t do it, Potter did.”

“Actually, I sort of did.” admitted Evan, feigning nonchalance. “I’m the one who made sure Potter used the right corks.”

Severus smirked. “And he deserved it. Lupin, Pettigrew, and Potter will have some explaining to do tomorrow, especially when they realise that the magic came from their own wands. They’ll never be able to trace it back to me. Reg, listen. What we say to each other stays with each other, right?”

“Right.” Regulus answered.

“Well, the Slug told my private business behind my back. He’s a teacher, he should know better than anyone when to open his mouth and when to keep it shut. Fat old fool. Believe me, he had it coming for that.”

“If you say so…” Regulus agreed uncertainly.

“Well, it’s too late to go back now, even if.” declared Evan. My favourite is still the last, though.”

“Yeah, that was so rich.” Sterling chortled.

Even Regulus laughed. “I wonder if Sirius will write home about it? Mum would just tell him to stop whinging and suck it up anyway.” His face showed a quiet concern that Severus didn’t fail to pick up on. Putting his arm lightly around the younger boy’s shoulders, he eased him away from the other two, sitting down next to him on his bed.

“Do you disapprove, Reg?” he inquired softly, leaning against a bedpost.

“No. No, not really. It’s not…permanent, though, is it?”

“No, no of course not! In a day or two he’ll be fine. No worries.”

“Oh, well, then. Not so bad, is it?”

“Good for Hufflepuff, I guess!” called over Evan. “Both the Gryffindor Seeker and a Chaser out of commission?”

“No, they’ll be fine for Saturday’s game, but practicing will be a bit uncomfortable for a couple of days.”

“How did you do that, Sev? What potion?”

“No potion. That’s the beauty of it. Pomfrey will spend more than a few hours trying to find out what hex it was, while they wait.” His eyes sparkled as they all laughed. “You may all be very stuck-up about muggles, but it never hurt me to study basic chemistry. I used a simple derivative of the ginger root—gingerol, in solidified powder form. Very irritating to the skin of mammal-types.” He grinned. “I sprinkled it in their jock boxes, no problem. It has a really low melting point. All they had to do was get out on the pitch and practice a bit and let nature do the rest.”

Sterling shuddered. “Cruel, but brilliant. I can’t even think about it much before certain parts of me want to run away.”

They all laughed. Regulus added, “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the screaming! It was like a Griffie chorus!”

“Oh, my poor meat-n-veg!”

“Oh, it’s the knob-rot! Save me!” moaned Regulus dramatically, fainting back across Severus’ bed.

“It was fun.” Severus admitted. “And it was about time.”

“Fun?” exclaimed Regulus, coming out of his feigned faint, “Fun? It was bloody brilliant, Sev!”

“Six down, one to go.” quipped Evan.

“And Potter twice.”

“He deserved it twice as much.”

“Hey, let’s go up to the common room, see what’s going on.”

“Yeah, alright, but no talk about this. The fewer people who know, the better.”

“Well, I want to tell Paige, Sev. After all, we really should. She helped!”

“Well, she’s all right, sure.”

A small cluster of first-years quickly moved from the leather sofas in front of the fire when they saw the older boys approaching, and the four each plopped comfortably into the corner niches of them and stretched out. No sooner had they settled in when they heard someone storming up the dorm steps.

Gbenisola stomped angrily over to her dorm mates and screeched, “Where is it? Who took it?”

Poppy Parkinson gazed up resentfully from her books. “What are you on about now, ‘Sola? We’re trying to study.”

“My cloak!” she exclaimed. “My new grey velvet cloak, the one I got for Christmas! Which one of you took it?”

Her four roommates all stood, angrily pushing their chairs back out of the way. “You’re accusing us of stealing?” Poppy glared, picking her wand up from the table.

From a chair near the fire, Paige Rosier gave Severus and her brother a mirthful smirk.

Evan murmured under his breath, “Seven down, none to go.”


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Chapter Eleven--Hermione's Howl

Hermione crept silently through the dark and shadow-ridden corridors, her heart pounding. She pulled her grey velvet cloak, a gift from Severus, tightly about her. She walked mostly on the toes of her bare feet, to reduce noise. For no one could see her on her quest, or it would be void. And she did not want it to be void. Even worse, discovery would mean extreme embarrassment.

She would be so cold! But this had to be done, and done tonight. She didn't have the luxury of waiting for summer. She had to know, now.

Slipping quietly out from a side door of the castle, Hermione gasped at the strange, prickly texture of the frosty early spring grass under her tender feet. She momentarily wondered if all sanity had left her. She gazed longingly up at the window she now knew to be hers, wishing the heat from the hearth there could reach her. The sky was black and clear, embellished with bright, sparkling stars and a full moon. Sighing, she braced herself. It wasn't going to get any more comfortable, only worse. She may as well get on with it. She hurried on to her destination, cringing inwardly at the sight of her warm breath floating in clouds on the night air. Yes, Hermione, you are completely and utterly insane...

She shook her head as if to clear such thoughts, choosing instead to focus them on the day's events.

She'd been quietly reading that afternoon, engrossed in one of the books Professor McGonagall had allowed her to check out on her own personal account. She had been so touched by the generous gesture on the part of her Head of House. She was sorry Severus was upset with the Professor, but she knew, deep down, that Professor McGonagall always tried to do the best she could, in her own way. She didn't hold any ill-will against her teacher. It didn't mean she would be completely honest with her now, however. Hermione felt a bit deceitful, disguising the few books she was intent on studying with a dozen more she knew she probably wouldn't touch, but there it was.

Once back in her room, she'd bolted her lunch, then curled up in a chair by the fire to read the prized volume of her choice, Moste Secret Magick of the Romany Peoples, by Gunilla Goddard. She had just become engrossed in it when she'd heard a loud rap on her door. Opening it, she'd been absolutely shocked by what she beheld! Poor Professor McGonagall was as blue as a robin's egg! Her face was puffy, and she was talking complete nonsense. She'd stumbled to Hermione's desk and managed to write "hospital wing," before the quill fell from her shaking fingers.

They'd left for the infirmary immediately. Hermione relaxed just a bit on the way, when she realised that Professor McGonagall's trembling was lessening. She had already identified the Babbling Curse, of course, but the color-change? How had that happened? The trembling was simply Professor McGonagall's level of upset showing--and who wouldn't be upset? This was one teacher who understood and appreciated self-control! It had to be especially difficult for her.

And then they'd passed Severus...walking in the opposite direction, with a schoolfellow. Severus, looking so...neutral. So...careful. So not-at-all-surprised. Hermione's heart had lurched then, and at that same moment, he had reached out and squeezed her hand. Oh, Severus, my puzzle of light and dark...she'd thought miserably...why? For Hermione knew then that it had been his doing.

Luckily, Madame Pomfrey was in and available to help. She'd quickly assured Professor McGonagall that all would be fine come the morning, and had asked her if a sleep-inducing charm might be best? The azure instructor had quickly nodded. Hermione was grateful. It was hard for the poor Professor to draw breath, what with being forced to speak incessantly. She was soon in a suspended state, at peace and comfortable, but Hermione knew she'd be hellfire come morning! In Hermione's nearly three years at Hogwarts, she had never heard of anyone using magic against a teacher...well, no one but Lord Voldemort, against poor Professor Quirrell. But never, ever a student! At least this wasn't as bad as Professor Quirrell, but wouldn't it mean expulsion?

Hermione had walked slowly back to Professor McGonagall's rooms, deep in thought, oblivious to the admiring second looks coming from many of the male students she passed. Severus...did you do this? How could it even be worth what it might cost you? She knew then that there was more to Severus than she yet understood. There was so much more to him than what he'd had time to share thus far--he was like a cave...full of shadows and hidden passages...full of secrets.

If he had been Harry or Ron, she'd thought to herself, I would find him and give him a piece of my mind! And yes, I am angry! Of course...yes, of course I'm angry! But he is neither Ron, nor Harry...and I would not have the heart to wag my finger at him, it would only demean me. For Severus Snape does nothing lightly. Nothing. A sudden understanding enveloped her mind and she swallowed. Professor McGonagall tried to stop us meeting each other. For doing that, he would punish her in return--he would risk getting expelled. For her, Hermione, he would take revenge. She'd stood still in the corridor, her hand to her mouth. Severus Snape would give up that much...for her. Her head whirled at the implications, and for the first time, she saw wrongdoing in a light in which she had never seen it before. Is it wrongdoing if what is lawful makes no sense to you? Yes...and no.

She'd run back to her room, to her little bed, and sat upon the edge, hugging herself. She had committed wrong, too. She had gone out that window into Severus' arms last night. She had danced around the woodland fire with him...she had let him lie on top of her as he kissed her in a way she'd only seen in films. Not even her parents had ever kissed like that in front of her. She had done wrong. She had done it willingly. She had enjoyed it. But was it wrong? Who got to decide what was wrong, and why them?

Right or wrong, Severus was not Harry or Ron. He did not ask for help, he did not lean on her in the same way--rather, he gave back tenfold what he asked. She now understood the difference. He would protect her, care for her, in a way that no one had ever offered to do before. Until now, it had always been she who gave to those she cared about, willingly enough, to be sure, but also secretly frightened that if she didn't, she would be alone. And hadn't she been proven right in that assessment? As soon as she crossed them, they cut her loose and shunned her. Severus, well, he would share the burden, not be it. He would never turn his face away from her.

She reached over for her book once more. It felt so reassuring to her, with it's yellowed pages, and its pretty, old-fashioned typeset; it possessed that wonderful smell very old books had--like secrets hidden in a dark place, waiting to be discovered, if only one would open the book. But people seldom would if the cover was not pleasing to their eye. Like Severus, she mused. My Severus. And I've never judged a book by its cover. She smirked to herself. I do find his cover handsome though...

Magic of the Romany Peoples, she thought...she smiled, rising and lying the book open on her desk. She liked to 'test' the books that way sometimes, to see where they would come to rest. It was the easiest way to find out which part of the book had been the most popular to the most people. Laid open, it would find the part of the binding which was the most loose--that spot most often held open. Her eyes widened as it came to rest at...she gasped, sat down, and read intently.

One hour later, with no one to tell her she couldn't, she was striding quickly along corridors and down staircases. Flying out of the main doors of the castle, she raced around to one of the courtyards which held dozens of greenhouses. Quickly she scanned them, wondering if the arrangement of plants was different than it would be in her own time. She hoped that the greenhouses, like so much of the school, were almost changeless.

Entering a greenhouse in which she'd not yet had classes, her eyes scanned the shelves for the plant she sought. Instead, she came upon another person, and pulled up in surprise. "Er, hello," she ventured.

The person's head popped up from among the leaves. "Oh, good afternoon! Sorry, just checking on an ailing hellebore, now..." she huffed, climbing out from among the pots, rubbing her gloved hands together to shake off bits of clinging earth, "Is there a problem, Miss..."

Hermione extended her hand, lying smoothly, "Miss McGonagall, the Professor's niece? I'm so sorry to disturb you, Professor...Sprout, isn't it? My aunt has told me many wonderful things about you."

Professor Sprout coloured faintly. "Oh my my...who would have thought that? Well! It's quite nice to meet you, Miss McGonagall...and is there anything I can help you with? Does Professor McGonagall require a plant? That would be rather unusual, unless she wishes to change it into a tea cozy." she smiled, her green eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Well...no, not really. It would be for me, actually. I need a flower, a Leontopodium Alpinum flower?"

"Oh! The Edelweiss! Yes, yes, yes...follow me, Miss McGonagall." and the round Professor Sprout had scuttled off through the door. Grinning, Hermione had to almost run to keep up. And they thought Professor Sprout had been robust in 1994! Her classmates should see her at nineteen years younger!

"Would you need a male flower, Miss McGonagall, or a female?"

"Oh! Well...a male, I guess...yes, a male most definitely."

"Very good, very good. Here we are!" Pushing open the door to the last greenhouse in its row, she led Hermione into what appeared to be a grotto.

"How beautiful!" she exclaimed in surprise. "So...well, not like the others."

"No, it wouldn't be." remarked Professor Sprout. "This is the Alpine greenhouse. I keep it chill-charmed, and of course everything here grows on a base of limestone. Here we are!"

Examining the small white flowers, Professor Sprout chose one of the most mature blossoms. "Here you are, young lady, this should do just fine for your little spell." she winked.

Hermione flushed. "You know what it's for?"

Professor Sprout smiled. "Ah yes...you know, my fascination with plants began with this little specimen here. Hmmm..." she considered, tilting her head. "A romance charm of some sort. Though Merlin's beard, that was ages ago for me! And as I recall, it didn't work for me, love has never been my forte.'" she laughed. "Enjoy it, Miss. Keep it in water till you need it, by an open window if possible--it likes the cold."

"Thank you! You're very kind."

And now she was ready to perform the spell. She hoped she had better luck than Professor Sprout. She checked her inside pocket--yes, the flower was still there. Hurrying on, she saw the lake come into view and shivered again. Oh, stop being such a baby! she groused to herself. If this little blossom can withstand a bit of cold, so can you!

When she reached the water's edge, she circled the lake for awhile until she had the dark forest at her back. She wanted to be as far from people, and their prying eyes, as possible. She just hoped nothing was watching from the trees...or it wouldn't work. Or would it? Was it that no person could witness her, or no creature at all? She wasn't sure, and it was too late to stop now.

Drawing a deep breath of resolution, she clutched the little Edelweiss flower, and pulled at the satin bow at her throat, releasing the fine velvet cloak. As it cascaded to the grass at her feet, she gasped, bracing herself for what was to come. For Miss Hermione Granger now stood in the brisk March night, naked as the night sky. It was in the book's explicit instructions--so she would do it. She would let nothing get in the way of this spell's successful conclusion.

Biting her lip, steeling herself, she clutched the little flower to her bosom and strode resolutely to the water's edge...and stepped in. She choked back a cry of shock at the water's icy chill. Trying to get back the breath that seemed to have been forcibly expelled from her lungs by her surprise, she began to wade in. While it was almost unbearably cold at first, her skin soon seemed to adjust, lessening the needle pricks that made her shake.

She tiptoed carefully through the mud on the lake floor, until her body was immersed to the waist. Looking up at the clear night sky, she paused, remembering the incantation. The moon lit her reflection in the water before her. Drawing a deep, satisfied, yet trembling breath, she began...

Mother Sky, Father Moon

Hear my plea, answer soon

Show me the one of love's hot fire

The only one, my heart's desire

To make me wife among his clan

My own true and worthy man

Brother water, calm my heart

From whom must I not ever part?

Speak thou, moon, in mirror fair

If please you, true love's visage share

I humbly plead...

Taking the flower, she dipped its petals into her own reflection, drawing it in clockwise circles through the ripples, chasing her mirror image away. As it disappeared, she felt as if part of her disappeared with it, to be replaced with someone she wasn't sure she'd ever really met--her true self. It felt like light in her soul! She held her head high then, her arms outstretched, exulting in her own nerve, and laughing in the thrill, the sensation, of all of nature embracing her. The ancient magic, yes, she could feel it! It surged through her, bringing the heat of love to her heart and mind. She understood the nudity now...to face nature as nature is, raw and naked and free, with no encumbrances of the world of civilisation...she had never felt so alive!

When the time felt right, she closed her eyes. She slowly lowered her face, so she would see the water when she opened them again. Trembling in anticipation, she slowly opened her eyes. And there, where her own reflection had been, was he. The promised one, her own true love. His image wavered as her eyes filled with tears. But still she saw him, tall and dark, his sparkling eyes, his ebony hair, the olive skin with the ripe, peach-toned blush...

She laughed in happiness, and relief. To know...she had feared it might be Ron. Sometimes she thought him handsome...when he wasn't being an idiot. She knew he was brave. But no. Ron did not know her; he would never understand what was inside her. He was a friend, and she loved him as a friend, even when he hated her. Her love was whom she had hoped it would be...Severus Snape. He who held her, comforted her, cared for her, told her his secrets, shared his dreams, and set her body on fire with his kisses. As her glad tears hit the surface of the water, his smiling face faded away. Hugging herself, she ran back to shore, throwing the silvery cloak about her. Dropping to the grass, she kissed the little flower, thanking it for its sacrifice on her behalf.

Severus...how can they separate us now? They cannot! We won't let them! For I was meant to come back to you--this was no accident! I'm not a mistake to be hidden away! I didn't need the spell to know it was you, but it confirmed all my hopes, and my fears. You won't be easy to love, not always. Tomorrow, when I must confront you about Professor McGonagall, it will be trying. But Severus, dear, secretive Severus...I love you! You are for me, and I for you!

Rising to her feet once more, she whirled about in triumph, holding her little Edelweiss blossom to the sky. She spoke aloud--"Severus Snape, I love you!" then threw back her head and laughed. She spied the moon and decided to honour it as the wild creatures did. Opening her throat, she let go a bright, high howl of joy...and froze as it was answered. She stood, stone-still, waiting, and she heard it again. An answering howl! Coming closer! Didn't Draco once tell them there were werewolves in the forest?

Gathering her cloak about her, she raced for the castle, and safety.


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A/N--the spell that Hermione performs was adapted from Romany lore, a tradition in which a young girl can determine her future husband by wading naked into water at night, then waiting by the shore. She waits to hear a dog bark, and the first man that comes into view from that direction will be her future husband.

I figured magical people would want to be a little more specific and would embellish that. ;-)




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Chapter Twelve--Severus Scrutinised

Severus was surprised at how uneventful the morning was, for the most part. He didn't have Potions that day, so he wouldn't have seen Professor Slughorn anyway, but the buzz at the Slytherin table at breakfast was how he'd fallen prey to tainted potion, possibly that of James Potter and Lily Evans. In any case, theirs was the last the pampered professor had been testing when his toenails suddenly started forcing their way through his slippers! Poppy Parkinson had been doing some make-up work in his classroom when it started. She'd run quickly up to the infirmary and fetched Madame Pomfrey, and, according to her, the flask that lay open on his desk was that of Potter/Evans.

Evan, Sterling, Regulus, and Severus had all ducked into an empty ground floor classroom to share a conspiratorial gloat before moving on to their respective classes.

Twinges of butterflies had come at lunch, however, when he'd spied the Headmaster's piercing blue eyes upon him more than once. And then the summons arrived. The male Slytherin prefect, seventh-year Gilderoy Lockhart, handed the slip of parchment to him with an arched brow, and got a sneer in answer. If there was anything more annoying than a Gryffindor prefect, thought Severus, it was the one from his own House.

"Invitation to tea, then, Severus?" Gilderoy inquired, smirking.

"Yes, Lockhart, that's it." commented Severus confidently as he quickly scanned the parchment. "The Headmaster wishes to discuss your abnormal relationship with Professor Slughorn with me--you know...for evidence."

"Wha...are you serious?" spluttered the golden snake.

"Of course!" quipped Severus as he rose. "You spend all of your pocket money on candied pineapple. Either you have a fruit fetish, or you're supplying that of Slughorn. Your parents are quite concerned."

With a return smirk to replace the one wiped from Lockhart's now crimson visage, Severus made his way from the Great Hall. His mates quickly followed.

"What is it, Sev?" asked Regulus worriedly. "Are you found out?"

Severus handed him the note, and Evan and Sterling leant over him to read it also. "Whew." Regulus whispered. "Just a meeting, nothing else. It's probably just about your progress, your career plans, don't you think?"

"I don't know." Severus admitted. "He was looking at me at lunch. It was...well, I suppose I'll find out soon enough."

Sighing in resolution, he gave Regulus' shoulder one last reassuring pat and began the long climb to the Headmaster's Office.

Turning a corner at the fifth floor, another student almost ran headlong into him. "Well, look who it is..." Severus drawled, his eyes narrowing. "The little rat-faced git. All alone today, are we? No superiors to grovel behind?"

With a surprised squeak, Peter Pettigrew jumped back from Severus as though singed. "Se-Se-Severus!" he choked. "Well, yes, they're all ill, and--"

"Ill, are they? All three howling in the infirmary?"

"N-no...just two, and..." Pettigrew's beady eyes went from frightened to wary. He made a show of puffing up his chest. "They know who put them there, and so do the teachers!"

Severus raised one ebony eyebrow. "And who might that be?"

"Y-you, of course."

"Oh, did I?" Severus advanced on Peter, wand in hand. Forcing Peter to the railing by the staircase, he leaned in close enough to cause the much-shorter Gryffindor to involuntarily squeak again, his arms up protectively in supplication. He hissed in the smaller boy's face, "Why don't you prove it?" Hearing footsteps, he backed away, lowering his wand. "Saved by the steps, Peter. This time."

Turning, he confidently began to stride away, only to hear Peter call, "And that’s not all I know…your girlfriend is very pretty, Snape. Especially with no clothes on." As Severus turned a shocked face to him, Peter tittered in nervous glee, lifting his chin defiantly.

Severus stood, his mouth hanging open. And then he moved again. "What?" he growled, pushing Peter to the wall, pointing his wand at the chubby boy's throat. "What the hell did you--you're making it up--take it back, you little bas-"

"N-n-not making it up, Snape!" Petter interrupted, his eyes slightly wild. "Ask her! She was out last night, taking a swim, looked like, with nothing on. And I'll tell you something else--she was lucky I saw her, or she'd be dead! Th-think of that before you hex me! I know more than you realise."

Rendered speechless by this last, he stood aside, gaping as Peter quickly joined a throng of Hufflepuffs who had just reached the top of the staircase. As they chattered by, he leant against the wall, running a hand through his hair as he tried to absorb what Peter had told him.

Hermione? Naked? Running around outside, with nothing on, for a...a swim? No...not Hermione. She wouldn't be that daft--would she? Peter was right...he would ask! But not now. Now he had to meet with the Headmaster. And he knew now it had nothing to do with career plans—as he’d suspected from the start.

Continuing on his way, he turned his practised mind to the task ahead. As he walked, he visualised a wall between his mind and the outside world. Brick by brick, he sealed it up, his inner magic working furiously to finish the task before he reached the office door.

His mother had been a skilled Legilimens, a talent he'd inherited. To his benefit, she’d used her skill to teach him its opposite as well--Occlumency. He came to Hogwarts already an expert in closing his mind to the probing of adults. She'd often joked with him that she regretted it, as she could not tell when he'd be up to no good. Severus felt himself relax as he thought of her, comforted as always by her memory. The reason she had been able to joke was because he had always told her all of his exploits anyway. Dumbledore would get no such indulgence.

Reaching the gargoyle that stood sentry before the entrance to the Headmaster's Office, Severus pulled the small piece of parchment from his pocket and scanned it once more. Shaking his head slightly, rolling his eyes, he spoke the password he'd been given-- "Dolly Lolly." As the menacing-looking gargoyle leapt nimbly to one side, and the passage in the wall opened, Severus thought—Dolly Lollys...was there no end to stupid names for sweets? They'd been all the rage last year. Every younger girl in his House had busied herself on trips to Hogsmeade with amassing a collection of all the different flavours of the small, doll-shaped candies-on-sticks. Butterscotch danced a Highland fling; cherry gave a graceful Japanese bow. Lime wore an old-fashioned British sailor's uniform and saluted never-endingly. Maple wore the uniform of one of the Canadian Mounties, and Apple waved the American flag and whistled a song called "Yankee Doodle Dandy." Where the Honeydukes got their ideas from, he didn't want to know.

Reaching the door, he gently lifted the griffin knocker and rapped three times. He heard a voice from within call, "Enter."

Severus worked the latch and swung the door open. Dumbledore sat at his desk, intently reading a book—looking for all the world as if he’d been there for hours instead of only a few minutes. Without looking up, he said, “Ah, Severus, you’ve come. Please sit.”

“You wanted to speak to me, Sir?” Severus politely inquired.

“Yes.” Putting down his book, the Headmaster looked at Severus for the first time since he’d entered the room. His face was serious. Severus’ butterflies returned, yet he kept his face neutral.

“I received some very bad news when I arrived back last night. Two teachers and two students were taken ill. This is highly unusual at Hogwarts.”

“I’ve heard this as well. Poppy Parkinson was in the potions classroom when Professor Slughorn was taken, well, ill, as you say.”

“Perhaps another word would suffice, since no bacteria or virus caused these illnesses. But the indication is that they were unwell, and that it was someone’s doing.”

“And who might that person be, Sir?” asked Severus, as innocently as he could.

“I think we both know the answer to that.”

Severus said nothing, carefully turning his eyes away from the Headmaster, seemingly observing the room. To keep one’s thoughts from a Legilimens, as he suspected Dumbledore was, it was foolish to maintain eye contact when questioned. Before fifteen seconds had passed, he dropped his eyes to the floor. He had succeeded in blocking his thoughts from the Headmaster, but he knew the battle was not yet over. He was determined to reveal nothing.

Dumbledore sighed. “Severus. I cannot, and will not, openly accuse you. But the indications are much too strong to ignore. The Gryffindor boys’ wands were tested, and it was determined which wand had created which hex or jinx. But the athletic ‘accident?’ Would they have done such a cruel thing to themselves? And Lily Evans, tainting her own potion? Highly unlikely. She is one of Professor Slughorn’s favourite students. And all four of those afflicted having recently, or not so recently, offended you?”

Severus raised his head, focusing his eyes on a part of the wall just behind the Headmaster’s right ear. “Whether that’s true or not is beside the point.” he stated defiantly. “No one cares anyway, no one but Hermione and me. It proves nothing.”

“No. You are right, it does not prove anything. However, you are wrong to think no one cares about you but yourself, and, as you say, Miss Granger. I do care. Your teachers care. It was not an easy decision to separate the pair of you. However, as to these recent acts--all four boys volunteered to undergo questioning under Veritaserum. You’ve heard of this potion?” he arched one white brow in inquiry. Severus responded with a curt nod. “Good. As I said, they took some, and answered truthfully. They had no antidote with which to counteract its effects. Not one of them is guilty of attacking a teacher. This is an offense which can cause one to be expelled, I hope you are aware of that.” Rising from his chair, the Headmaster moved around the desk to caress the bright feathers of his pet Phoenix, Fawkes. “Veritaserum cannot be forced upon anyone in this school. I assume you will not volunteer to questioning under it?”

“You assume correctly, Sir.”

“Very well.” Dumbledore sighed again. “But, Severus…you will find that lack of evidence of guilt is not innocence, and will not be seen as such. In seeking this revenge against others, you have dealt yourself the worst blow of all, and its effects will soon be felt. And I am very sorry…for those you’ve injured…and for you.”

Severus rose, scowling. “If you are finished making accusations with no proof, Sir, may I be excused?”

Professor Dumbledore shot Severus a look of disapproval, mixed, strangely and unnervingly, with pity. He gave a slow nod.

Severus took himself from the Office as quickly as he could without appearing to run.

Not waiting for the spiral staircase to withdraw, he clambered down the steps. As he passed through the opening in the wall, which snapped shut behind him with a click, he drew several deep breaths to steady himself.

They knew. They all knew. Despite everything he’d done to ensure they wouldn’t. Stupid…stupid! To do it all in one day had been foolhardy and rash, he knew that now. Why didn’t he see that before? And what effects would there be? He wouldn’t be expelled, couldn’t be! He tried to calm himself, remembering they had no solid proof. He heard the chimes mark the hour and knew he would be late for History of Magic. Hang History of Magic. He could not face Professor Binns now. He could not face any teacher. For the first time since he’d come to Hogwarts, he was going to deliberately skive off a class. He had to see Hermione, talk to her. He couldn’t bear to face anyone else.

Trembling, he leant against the wall. Why was he shaking? How could this simple questioning have affected him so? He got his revenge and he had deserved to get it! Didn’t he?

He must talk to Hermione--only she could soothe him. But if even she knew, would she talk to him? Sweet Merlin…what have I done?

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A/N—I’m so sorry this chapter was so long in coming. Life got in the way—it does tend to do that, doesn’t it? ;-) The chapters should resume their usual frequency now. Thanks so much for not giving up on me!


Please feel free to leave reviews and/or comments here, thank you!

Chapter Thirteen—Hermione’s Heart

Hermione sat quietly in her room. Professor McGonagall’s private quarters were utterly silent. Hermione knew that Professor McGonagall was fine now. She knew Professor Slughorn was well, too, and that James Potter and Sirius Black would soon be fully recovered. But beyond that, she knew nothing--other than suspecting that the reason she knew nothing more was because they wanted it that way. Something was awry…did they suspect Severus, as she did? Was that why she was being kept in the dark? Professor McGonagall was no help—she would barely even look Hermione in the eye. Every time another teacher came to discuss, she would guide them into her office. She must have spelled the door, because Hermione couldn’t hear even a murmur through its veneer. After a time, she couldn’t tell if anyone was even in the office anymore. No one came back into the suite.

Ah well…she would see Severus tonight and find out everything—at least, she hoped he would talk to her about it. She hoped he wouldn’t be coy and secretive, not about this. She looked up at the pretty china clock on the mantelpiece as it merrily chimed the hour—one o’clock. It would be an age before evening!

She heard a scratching at her open windows and turned. Just settling in on its newfound perch on the windowsill was a pretty snowy owl. Hermione smiled. This owl looked so much like Harry’s Hedwig! Her heart gave a bittersweet pang of homesickness, which she quickly quelled as she rose and went to the bird. It held out its leg for her.

Taking the rolled parchment burden from the owl, Hermione briefly caressed its feathers before handing it a piece of beef from the stew leftover from her lunch. Hooting happily, the owl swallowed the meat and flew off toward the owlery.

Settling into her favourite fireside chair, Hermione hurriedly opened the letter. It had to be from Severus! Who else knew her? She read intently.

Dearest Hermione,

I must see you. Not tonight, but as soon as you can. Please, please
meet me in the secret room on the seventh floor, if you can. I don’t care if you hate me, I don’t care if you shout at me, I don’t care what you do as long as you come to me.

Pace three times in front of the wall opposite that picture of the troll-beating, and think about seeing me in that room. Say something to that effect, three times, once with each crossing. The door should appear then.

I will wait for you. If you cannot come, or will not come, I will find you tonight. Please don’t deny me, Hermione.

Your Severus

Her Severus, he’d written. Yes, you are, all mine. Come what may.

Hermione tiptoed to Professor McGonagall’s office door. How she hoped that her teacher was not there! But she had brought a book with her, just in case. She’d say she wanted to return it to the library. Carefully opening the door, she stuck her head out, holding her breath. No one was within. At the door to the hallway, she repeated the procedure, stealthily looking both ways and listening for approaching footsteps. The corridor was empty. Down the hall she could hear the monotonous drone of Professor Binns. Then she flew down the corridor and up the staircases to the seventh floor.

Her heart pounding, she paced three times in front of the blank wall, murmuring her need to be where Severus was. She threw open the door as soon as it appeared---and there he stood. His back was to her, and he was staring at the stained glass window. When he heard her, he turned, and Hermione could see at once that he was greatly agitated, yet she heard his sharp intake of breath as he almost smiled at finding her there. At once she ran to his arms.

They did not speak. They simply held each other, until Hermione felt his heartbeat calm, his breathing ease. Then, at last, she drew away. Still holding his hand, she led him to the sofa and they sat together. She felt so calm, so safe here with Severus. Their lives were chaos, but…when they were together, it was as if they stood in the eye of the storm.

Finally, Severus spoke. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come—that you’d be angry with me. Surely you know…”

“Yes.” She said simply. “I suspected, but the fact that no one will tell me what’s going on indicated to me the rest…Severus, why? Why did you do these things?”

Severus frowned. Rising, he paced in front of the cold fireplace. “Because…because! Because I could, because they deserved it, because my friends wanted it…because I wanted it. I wanted it, Hermione.” He sighed, looking away. “I didn’t even care what happened—no…that isn’t true. I did care. But I didn’t think it would lead so easily back to me. I did too much.”

“Just one of those ‘pranks’ was too much, Severus! You could risk your whole future!”

“What future? Which future?” he almost shouted, turning back to her. “You told me what my future is, but Hermione, is it? Maybe I don’t want to spend my life here, with these ridiculous people! I can change that future. I can do anything I want. We all can! It’s our choice!”

Hermione stared at Severus, and then nodded slowly. “Yes. I believe that, too. But Severus, the things you did, they were horrific! If you saw the suffering—“

“Were they horrific?” he interrupted, almost sneering. “No, Hermione. They were not. I know what horrific is! And it isn’t a blue face or toenails that won’t stop growing, or even—well, even what I did to the Gryffindorks. Those were inconveniences. Minor ones at that. Horrific is seeing your father kill your mother, even if he didn’t mean to do it!”

“Oh Severus…” Hermione replied, as the realization of his definition sank in. “I…I’m sorry. I suppose…” she faltered.

She saw the fierceness in Severus’ eyes fade. He came back to the sofa and, sitting slightly sideways, took her hands in his. “Hermione…what I saw…when my mum was killed….I can never forget. Those people…they only see what happened to them as horrific because they’ve known nothing worse. I am always honest with you, and I will be so now. I’m not sorry for what I did, I’m only sorry I got caught. If that’s wrong, so be it. But I do care what you think of me, don’t think I don’t. Maybe it was stupid of me…I don’t know. I don’t know…” he sighed again, resting his head against the back of the sofa. “But my whole world is different now. I see no reason to keep my head down and hope no one bothers me. I see no reason to play by the rules when no one else does.”

Hermione looked away from the intensity of Severus’ gaze before she spoke again. After considering for a few moments, she confessed, “I was always the mother hen with my friends…trying to keep them on the straight and narrow. But sometimes I broke the rules, too. Sometimes breaking the rules can be justified.” She sighed. “I’m all in a muddle, really. I should be angry with you, but I’m not. I am worried for you. I was worried for Professor McGonagall until Madame Pomfrey assured me she’d be just fine. I worry about everyone, but…” she looked back to Severus, “But because of the way I feel about you, and what you mean to me, the way I usually handle things won’t work anymore. It’s the same thing again…whatever I feel, it’s wrong to feel it.”

Severus stared at her intently, his lips slightly parted. He whispered, “What you feel is what you feel, and there is nothing wrong with it. Nothing at all. I feel love for you, and I’ll be damned if anyone tells me I’m wrong.”

Hermione leant forward then, wanting his touch, yearning for it, and he did not disappoint. Delicately cradling her face with his long fingers, he lowered his lips to hers. Her eyes closed slowly as her sense of touch took over, triggering those new responses in her that frightened her as much as they excited her.

He kissed her softly this time, sweetly, as if he were holding something delicate and priceless. Hermione felt his care through his mouth, through the fingers that caressed one arm, the fingers which threaded their way through her hair and caressed the nape of her neck. When they leant away from each other at last, the look in his dark eyes was as soft and moist as his lips had been.

“Hermione, look.”

She stared as he pulled at the thick chain around his neck, bringing his mysterious family ring into view. He unclasped the chain and put the ring on the index finger of his right hand. The emerald glinted richly in the afternoon sun. “Watch.”

Severus brought the ring to his lips. Taking a deep breath, he spoke in a hushed whisper over the stone. “Hermione Granger.”

Hermione gasped as the jewel transformed, turning red, and a vision arose from the ring, that of two dragons, twirling in flight, swirling together into one. The vision dissipated, drawing back into the emerald, which changed back to its cool green hue.

“What does it mean?”

“It means that you are the one, Hermione. The one I love, the one I shall always love, with no deviation, no hesitation, come what may.”

As tears came to her eyes, her mind spun. Something…yes. “Severus, you said the ring was a blessing or a curse. Is it a curse, to love me?” she whispered.

He clasped her hands then, and smiled as her finger touched the ring, her fingertip tracing the edge of the jewel. “Not for me, I don’t think. I’m happy to know. But the ring doesn’t guarantee happiness. My mother spoke my father’s name aloud to the ring. And she knew then that she would always love him. And it was a curse for her.”

Hermione sighed. “But you were born from that love. That wasn’t a curse.” She smiled. “Severus, I love you as well. I know you’re the one for me, too.”

She saw tears glint in his eyes then, too, though they did not fall. As he pulled her into his arms, she heard him whisper, “Then it will never be a curse.”

They held each other thus for a long time, simply enjoying the sensation of being loved, or holding that person. Even as she held him, Hermione reminded herself to savour the experience, as it was so wonderful. It might have to last a long time, once their troubles found them again.

Still wrapped in Severus’ arms, drunk with happiness, Hermione almost startled when he spoke again. “Hermione…about Peter Pettigrew…”

“What about him?” she asked dreamily, tightening her hold on Severus’ waist.

“He…well, last night, he said…I mean, he said he saw you last night.”

Instantly her bliss was terminated, as she was jarred back to reality. She jerked her head up, narrowly missing clipping Severus’ jaw. “What?” she snapped. “When?”

Severus winced. He spoke slowly, reluctantly. “I didn’t want to tell you, but thought I should…”

“He saw me outside last night?” she asked, and saw the change in Severus’ eyes as they took in her panic.

“Yes.” Severus replied, his face regretful. “He said you didn’t have anything on.”

Hermione sprang from the sofa and walked behind it to the middle of the room. What a terrible feeling was this! Like being punched. She couldn’t breathe.

“Hermione, it doesn’t matter!” Severus tried to assure her. “I don’t care! If you like to take moonlight swims it’s all the same to me, it’s just…it’s all right, if he says anything I’ll get him back for it.”

Hermione still stood with her back to him, trying to keep from crying. It couldn’t be…how could it be? It couldn’t be. She whirled around and shouted, “He can’t have! How could he have? Because no one could see me, no one! Or it wouldn’t work, and I know it worked! Of course it worked! Because it was you, Severus! Because it was you!” And with that, she burst into tears.



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Please leave reviews and/or comments in the feedback thread, here. Thanks much!

The following chapter was inspired by the song Anywhere, by Evanescence.

Dear my love, haven't you wanted to be with me
And dear my love, haven't you longed to be free
I can't keep pretending that I don't even know you
And at sweet night, you are my own
Take my hand

[CHORUS:]
We're leaving here tonight
There's no need to tell anyone
They'd only hold us down
So by the morning light
We'll be half way to anywhere
Where love is more than just your name

I have dreamt of a place for you and I
No one knows who we are there
All I want is to give my life fully to you
I've dreamt so long I cannot dream anymore
Let's run away, I'll take you there

We're leaving here tonight
There's no need to tell anyone
They'd only hold us down
So by the mornings light
We'll be half way to anywhere
Where no one needs a reason

Forget this life
Come with me
Don't look back you're safe now
Unlock your heart
Drop your guard
No one's left to stop you

Forget this life
Come with me
Don't look back you're safe now
Unlock your heart
Drop your guard
No one's left to stop you now

[Chorus]

------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Fourteen--Severus’ Sunlight

“Hermione, what is it?” Severus begged. “What are you saying? What do you mean, it was me? I wasn’t there, I promise!”

“No,” she answered miserably, settling back beside him on the sofa, sniffling. “Not that. It was…I was doing a spell last night. I couldn’t be clothed, and no one could see me. But I was seen, you see? So how could it have worked?”

Severus felt that part of him take over which always did in times of confusion. Taking the distraught Hermione by the arms, he looked deeply into her eyes. “Hermione, calm down. C’mon…” he released her arms, rubbing them. “It’ll be fine. Just start at the beginning, so I know what you’re getting at.”

“All right.” She gulped. “It was a spell from the Romany. I mean, what better source, right?” He smiled to encourage her, moved at her thoughtfulness in researching the magic of his people. “Well, I needed a mountain flower-- an edelweiss, and Professor Sprout gave me one. I was to go into water on a night with a bright moon, without any clothes, and say the incantation, and wait, and the moon would show me my love.”

“You did that? Hermione, how brave of you!” he smiled genuinely this time. “And you performed the spell in that cold, cold water…and what happened?”

She looked at him, tears once again welling up in her eyes. “It showed me your reflection instead of my own. Severus,” she cried, falling into his arms, “It was you! That’s what I meant! And if he saw me, then does that mean my spell didn’t work? But I know it worked! It had to be you, because I love you!”

“Hermione,” he breathed in her ear as he stroked her hair, comforting her, carefully controlling his own excitement at her confession. “If you love me, the spell wasn’t needed, was it? But…all right…let’s go over it. That’s the best thing to do, isn’t it? What, precisely, did the book say?” he stifled the rising tension he felt in himself as the thought occurred to him that her love might only be dictated by spells. That won’t do! There’s no use in having us both hysterical. “Perhaps if I could see the wording…”

“Well, it said…oh wait!” she said, jumping up. “I brought it! It was only as an excuse to Professor McGonagall, if I got caught out of my room, but this is the book!”

Severus held out his hands eagerly for the book she placed in them. “Ah, this one! It’s so good. I want to find a copy for my own some day. Would you show me the spell?”

“Here, on page 176." she motioned, opening the book as it lay in his hands. "See? I followed all the instructions, right to the letter!"

Severus scanned the pages before him, noting the incantation, the other instructions. "It sounds all right, but for this one part...'no man may see you.' But, he says he did, and if he said it, he must have...so..."

"It didn't work." Hermione's tears began to flow once more. "But, Severus...I don't know how to describe it, what I felt. But for the first time in my life, I felt the magic within me! I felt it surging, I felt my power! That was not an illusion, I know it! So I can't believe it didn't work! And why, if it wasn't working, did I see any other reflection than my own? I should have only seen myself."

"Well," Severus mused, closing the book onto one slender finger, "It said no man may see you. So...what if Pettigrew's not a man yet? I mean, what if he's not of age? That might be it. Remember what I said, about really listening? I think that goes for really reading, too! I can see if I can find out how old he is, if he's seventeen yet. That might be why."

"Do you think so?" Hermione implored, her eyes bright and wet. "Because I don't think I could bear it if...it would mean my feelings are still wrong. It would mean...Severus, I know what I feel. The spell only confirmed what I already knew." she twisted her hands together in her lap. "I'm sorry I overreacted. I do that sometimes." she smiled shyly then.

"Hermione." Severus smiled, and they settled against the sofa once more. Severus eased Hermione's head onto his shoulder and stroked her hair. "Listen. Even if he is over sixteen, it may be that he came upon you after the spell was complete. It could be anything, really. But, he also said he saved your life. That was strange."

"Well, when the spell was over," Hermione murmured, "I was so happy. I danced on the grass. I howled to the moon, and when I did, something answered." Leaning up, she faced him. "Draco Malfoy told us once that there were werewolves in the Forbidden Forest. Do you know if it's true?"

"Draco Malfoy?" Severus repeated, his dark eyes twinkling. "So they actually manage to stop looking in their mirrors long enough to produce a son?"

Hermione's hands flew to her mouth as she gasped, her eyes growing wide at her faux pas. Severus chuckled, relaxing. "Hermione, it doesn't matter. It's only that I know his parents. They marry this summer. But you heard a werewolf?"

"I think so." Hermione admitted. "I didn't wait around to find out what it was, I could hear it coming closer."

"That was wise. So...little Pettigrew stopped a werewolf?" Severus mused. "Sounds a bit over the top, doesn't it? Well...we’ll see about that, too." he sighed. Standing up, he took Hermione's hands and eased her to her feet. Suddenly he felt a wave of tension wash over him and willed it down. It was time.

"Hermione." he breathed. Easing down on one knee, he kept his eyes locked on hers. She seemed responsive, though nervous. Her brown eyes were very round, and so innocent. Gathering his courage, he began. "Hermione. I know we're young. I know perhaps we aren't supposed to be together--other people think that. But we know, both of us, we know the truth. I love you. That will never fade, the ring confirms it. You love me, and your spell confirms it--I believe it was successful. Hermione…please marry me. I don't have much to offer, only a run-down house near Sheffield that belongs to my father, but it doesn't matter. We can run away from here, from Hogwarts, from England. We can ride the carpet to Romania. We can join my clan, my tribe. I can be their prince and you can be their princess, and we can protect them, help the clan to grow and flourish, and it will be a wonderful life. You don't have to go back." He pleaded, panting as he finished, such was his effort to get it all said without faltering. He knew he was on the verge of trembling and bit his lip, hoping for, and dreading, her reply. "Please don't go back. I'll die if you do. I won't be able to live without you."

As he watched, her tears began again. She was the one trembling now. She knelt down, meeting him on his level. "What if they find us?" she whispered, taking his hands.

Relief washed over him as he realised she might be willing. "They can't! If they do, we have our Time-Turners. We'll disappear into time, they can't know how far back. They'll never find us, Hermione. And we'll be together, and no one can stop us, ever. I can come for you tonight and we can disappear. You do...want to come?" he begged.

She slowly nodded her head. "Yes. I do. It's what I want. I don't want to pretend anymore. I'm afraid, but I trust you. I want to come." She looked down at their entwined hands. “I think I came back in time for you, Severus. You make me feel…complete. Like nothing at all is missing anymore. I don’t ever want to be parted from you.”

"Hermione!" he almost shouted, throwing his arms around her. "I love you...I love you..." his words dissolved into fervent kisses, his hands left hers and encircled her. He felt her arms go around his waist and he pulled her as close as he could, answering her joyful passion with his own. Reluctantly pulling away, he breathed in her ear, "Tonight then. I will come for you at eleven. Pack anything you want to bring. I'll come for you. For now, you should go back, they'll miss you. I'll leave shortly after you do, and I'll be fine. It doesn't matter what anyone at this stupid school thinks of me anymore, I'm not staying." Leaning back on his heels, he drank her in." I am the luckiest bloke in the entire world. All right, come on, you'd better go." He helped her to her feet, and as they walked to the door, he added, "I'll see if I can find out about Pettigrew's birthday. Who knows? I might solve the mystery before we go."

Hermione turned to him then, smiling now, and replied, "It doesn't matter if you do. I know it's all right. Severus..." she chuckled. "Nothing. Never mind. I worry too much sometimes."

Cupping her chin with his hand, he leant down to kiss her again. "It will be all right. I'll take care of us. We're meant to be together. We'll find our way; the rest will fall into place, right?"

"Yes." she smiled.

"All right then, off you go." He risked a small pat to her backside as she went for the door, grinning when she jumped. She gave him a look of admonishment, then shook her head, smiling broadly as she pulled the door closed, leaving him alone in the room.

Severus let out a loud breath, resisting the urge to whirl around in happiness. He strode to the stained glass window and threw it open, letting the strong afternoon sun bathe him with its warmth.

No more shadows for you, Sev, he thought, blinking back tears. The dark times are over.


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Chapter Fifteen--Hermione's Hesitation

Hermione had swept silently along the halls, deftly avoiding students leaving classes. She checked her watch. It had just gone half-two. She hoped to reach her room once more before Professor McGonagall, or indeed, any other teacher saw her in the corridors. She did not want to answer questions. She was afraid she would give her feelings away. She kept finding herself choking back giggles.

He touched my bum! No one's ever touched my bum. Oh my God. Get control of yourself, Granger! You're becoming Lavender Brown, how disgusting! He touched my bum, and oh my God...I will marry him...and then he'll touch far more after that! This time she had to press her hand to her lips to keep the embarrassed laughter from bubbling out.

As her giggle-fit faded away, she found herself coming into a different mood, as the realisation of the commitment she'd made struck her. When she was with Severus, it was so easy to want to please him. And it was easy to say yes, but...marriage. Marriage, and, well, sex. She loved him, but was she ready for that? Was she really ready? When he kissed her that way, she was, but the thought was still unnerving. Suddenly feeling lightheaded, she slipped into an alcove and curled up on the thick window ledge. Looking absently out of the window, she mused on the hurried, passionate hour she'd just spent with Severus. Doubt crept into her mind, and she despised it for ruining her peace and happiness.

What if I'm not ready to be a wife? Would that mean that Severus would be quit of me altogether? Would he shun me for displeasing him, as Ron and Harry had shunned me? Would having second thoughts mean he would leave me, because I couldn't bear that! And yet...he has such a way about him...so confident...or is he? He was shaking when I came to him. And didn't I enjoy being the one to calm him for a change? Hermione sighed, pressing her forehead to the cold glass. The spell I performed was real, of course it was real. And because it was real, then I am supposed to be with him, aren't I? And I want to be with him! But...what if it had muddy results, because of Peter Pettigrew? But Severus' ring! The ring was very real! I am supposed to be with him! I am so sick of thinking I'm wrong, wrong, wrong! Sick of it! This is where I belong! Setting her jaw in determination, she almost sprang from the window seat and once more hurried down the halls to her room.

Carefully opening the door to Professor McGonagall's office, Hermione crept to the door leading to the teacher's private suite. Whatever magic the Professor had used previously on the door did not seem to prevent noises from within being heard. She could clearly hear Professor Dumbledore's pleasant, resonating voice, speaking to someone else. She did not hear Professor McGonagall. Professor Dumbledore was saying, "Look, down over there, by the lake. That's the boy."

Incredibly nervous, she took a deep breath. Professor Dumbledore must be here to see her, and if so, he would have news of the journey back--the journey she knew she no longer wished to take. How on Earth would she tell him? Or wouldn't she? Would she hide the truth from him, as she had from Professor McGonagall? Oh dear...she worried, hiding the truth from Professor Dumbledore, that never seems to work, somehow he always knows... She pulled open the door and stepped in.

"Professor Dumbledore," she ventured, forcing a smile onto her face. "How nice to see you." Her eyes flickered briefly to the person standing at the window with him. It was not, she was relieved to see, Professor McGongall. This was a person she had never seen before. He looked somewhat old, yet, like Dumbledore, he was bright-eyed and energetic. His long curly hair and wavy beard still held traces of dark brown among the silver. When he smiled at her, his dark eyes sparkled.

"Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore smiled, "I would very much like you to meet my good friend, Professor Nicholas Flamel."

Hermione's eyes went as round as her lips as she exclaimed, "Oh! Nicholas Flamel! The alchemist? The wizard with the Philosopher's Stone? Oh my...oh my," she breathed, coming forth to shake his hand. "It's truly an honour, Sir, truly!"

The man covered her clasped hand with his other, enveloping it in a comforting envelope of flesh. His skin was soft and warm. "Miss Granger, I am flattered that you know of me. I have heard something of you from my friend Albus, and I think that the praise is not ill-deserved."

"I am so pleased to meet you, Sir! I've read about your work, of course, and..." she caught her next words and smiled, embarrassed. She had almost said something she should not, must not say--something about the future. "Would you...please, sit down, be comfortable. Should I see to tea?" she asked, looking at Dumbledore for instruction.

"No, no, Miss Granger, that's quite all right." her Headmaster assured her. "We've come purely to speak with you. We have very important news."

Hermione sat on the edge of one of Professor McGonagall's small, tartan-covered chairs, straight and tense. "You have found a way to send me back." She had tried not to, but her voice still came out sounding wooden and terse.

"Yes, Hermione, we have." replied Dumbledore. "It's a small window, though, and we must leave soon."

"Leave? Where?" she asked, her face betraying her emotions.

"You...you do not wish to go?" asked Mr. Flamel, worriedly. "But Miss Granger, we have this one chance. We must go to France!"

"I...I'm so sorry, so sorry to put you to this trouble, but...I don't want to go!" she cried, struggling to keep her voice from breaking. "Please don't make me, Sir, please don't!"

"But Miss Granger, what is it?" Hermione looked to her Headmaster, expecting to see anger, but instead found only compassion. "What has happened? Why this change of heart?"

"Surely you must know." she replied, lowering her eyes to her lap.

"Severus Snape." she heard Professor Dumbledore venture. "Am I correct?"

"You are, Sir. I...I love him. I love him so much."

The alchemist's hand come into her field of vision as he patted her hand. "That is the boy we saw from the window."

"Is he in sight?" Hermione cried, jumping up and running to the window. Looking down, she saw Severus, far to the left, as he walked by the lake, close to the water's edge. Once in awhile he would crouch, as if studying the ground, then stand again and move on. Her heart beat fast when she saw him. They musn't take her away from him now! She was decided.

Turning around, she faced her Headmaster and his friend. "I'm very sorry, but I'm not going."

Professor Dumbledore nodded his head slowly. "Miss Granger, you are a free human being in a strange circumstance, and to have found comfort here is to your credit, especially when others have stood in the way, including myself." His eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled, but did not have their usual twinkle. Instead, to her surprise, Hermione saw tears swimming in them. "Hermione," he said, rising and taking her hand. "We have one hour, only an hour, and we must go if we are to get you back to your place in time."

"Forgive me, Headmaster, but my place in time is right here and now."

"Then I ask only one thing. That you take a look at this. Contemplate what it means. I myself only saw it today, when Nicholas gave it to me."

"Oui," the French wizard replied, "Because I might never have shown it to Albus, as it would have caused him only pain. Also, it may not have been safe. And it did, it did cause him pain..." he sighed, wringing his hands.

"Why would it do that, Professor?" asked Hermione.

Pressing the paper into her waiting hands, he only replied, "When you have seen it, we'll be happy to answer any questions. Professor Flamel is here to help."

The stiff paper had writing on it, a year--1885. Hermione turned the paper over. It was a photograph, very old from the looks of it. It appeared to be a daguerreotype from the 19th-century. In it, two men were clowning for the camera. They were young and handsome, and had their arms thrown about each other's shoulders. The taller of the two was listening to the other speak, and just as he threw back his head to laugh, Hermione caught the twinkle in his pale eyes.

"Why, Headmaster, this is you!" Hermione smiled. "Who is this other wizard beside you?"

"I know his name." Professor Dumbledore replied sadly, shaking his head. "But I have no memory of him."

"But...I don't understand."

"I have many memories of him, Miss Granger." interjected Nicholas Flamel. "He was one of my closest friends, and a fellow scholar. Jonah Rollins was his name. He was the one who gave that photograph to me for safekeeping when he died. But, he gave that photograph to me in 1594."

"I do know that name! He wrote a book, what was it called..."

"An Account of Late-Renaissance Magical Work in France, among other works." answered Professor Dumbledore. "We have that in the Hogwarts library. I plan to acquire the rest. They are incredibly rare, though."

Hermione was strongly intrigued. All of her nerves, her tension, had disappeared as this mystery was presented to her. "As I remember, though, he finished that book in 1591...and yet he was friends with Professor Dumbledore in 1885! So he must have traveled back in time...but, that far?"

"He did," answered Flamel as Hermione crossed to her chair to sit near him once more, her attention riveted. "As with you, it was an accident...at first."

"At first..." repeated Hermione, her brow furrowed. "But, how did he...did he go back? Back to 1885?"

"I shall get to that in a moment. First I will speak of how I came to know him. He must have fallen, as you did. He fell through time and physical space, and was injured. He was fortunate enough to have been found by a compassionate stranger, who had him brought to a nearby church. One of the priests there saw his Time-Turner and sent for me. He understood what it was. It was I, and others like me, who saw him back to his own time. But he was a curious and foolish young wizard. Unbeknownst to us then, he played with time as if it were a new toy."

"How did you get him back, though? Time-Turners can't go forward in time."

"No, they cannot. But did you ever wonder why they do not?" Hermione nodded. "Of course, a clever girl like you would wonder." He patted her hand again. "But the reason they do not is that the Time-Turners are not complete in themselves. They are connected to something else, something wonderful, Miss Granger. The Time-Turners are only one aspect of the time contiuum. I belong to a secret society which knows the location of the portal that is connected to the Time-Turners--and the portal is the only way to go forward in time. We brought Monsier Rollins to the portal and sent him back, but he remembered its location. We should never have allowed him to see the way to it, but we thought no one would be so foolish as to go back in time again!"

"And...you said he gave you this photograph before he died. What happened to him?"

"Sadly, he discovered that the portal had a limitation. In secret, he returned to the 16th-century again and again, for a few days, or a week. I cannot say I blame him, as he was an avid scholar of that period in history. The pull to the past of which he was so fond must have been irresistible! But he was afraid to tell us he was using the portal in secret. Miss Granger, the last time he came back, he overstayed himself. When he went to the portal, he was stuck. It would not take him back to his own time. That is when I saw him again. He confessed his misdeeds, if misdeed it can be named. I had the sad duty of telling him he could never go back. In later years, he became ill from homesickness at times. On his deathbed he made me promise to find Albus Dumbledore and tell him he was sorry."

"How long does one have then? For the portal to work?"

"A person who has traveled back in time has only the lunar cycle of the month into which he finds himself to go back. If one lingers past the last night of the full moon, one cannot go back, ever."

"So...that's all I have, isn't it? The last night of the full moon is tomorrow." Nicholas Flamel nodded his head sadly. "But, I don't want to go back. I don't really have to, do I? I haven't fallen back centuries, after all! I can still see my parents in the future, and Ron and Ha--" she stopped, again afraid to say too much.

"That is what is worrying to me, Miss Granger," said Professor Dumbledore, coming forward. He sat next to her opposite Professor Flamel. "Hermione...Professor Flamel didn't show me this picture, but I remember, when meeting him in 1886...he asked me about Jonah. And all I knew of him were of his writings."

"Yes, I pressed you, did I not?" Flamel smiled sadly at his friend, who nodded in affirmation. "But he did not know Jonah Rollins, child, he only knew of him, as a reader of his works. I found his parents as well, and they had no memory of him either. His name did not exist as a Hogwarts alumnus, and there were no announcements of his birth in the Daily Prophet archives, as I had hoped there would be. Miss Granger, I fear that once Monsier Rollins became stuck in time, his life in the future ceased to exist. It was as if he had never been."

"Which is why Professor Flamel never showed me the photograph. It would have only confused me, and it was better for me not to know too much. Such matters are kept very secret, Miss Granger. If people knew, well, if some people knew that they could play with time, going back and forth, what horrible madness might be brought upon us all, in the future, and in the past?"

But Hermione's thoughts had gone in another direction. "So..." she began, her breathing shallow and fast, "This means I won't exist either, doesn't it? My parents won't know me in the future...my friends?" She dreaded another of Professor Flamel's sad nods, but was not surprised to see it.

"And this is the hardest part, Miss Granger." explained Professor Dumbledore. "They will not know you, unless they meet you in later years. They will not remember knowing you before. The decision is yours. Can you live with that knowledge? Can you refrain from interfering in their lives, or telling them of what happened to you? Also..."

"Also..." she finished for him, "Will they need me and I won't be there? Will my staying hurt their futures?" She stood then, and walked to the window. Looking off to the left, she saw that Severus had gone. There was a chill returning to the early spring air that made her shiver...if that was what had caused it. She closed her eyes. But for the clock ticking on Professor McGonagall's mantelpiece, the room was utterly silent as the two wizards awaited her decision. The clock was ticking away at her time in which to think...

My parents will never know me. They won't miss me, they will never love me. I will never know them. I could never go to them and try to explain, they'd think me mad! And Harry and Ron, if they know me at all, will only see me as an adult. They will never befriend me, never confide in me...how will they find out about the Philosopher's Stone if not from me? How will Ron and Harry escape the Devil's Snare? They will die. Or if they do remember how to get out of it, how will Harry get through the potions puzzle of clever, logical Severus? And when the Chamber of Secrets is opened again a year later, who will help them to learn of the basilisk? No one. I will be gone and they might be dead, and then Ginny will be dead. Would they believe an adult would tell them? Will I even be in England? Will I be in Romania? Or a thousand years back in time, trying to escape from those who would stop Severus and me? Ron and Harry will die...Harry won't find the Chamber and Ginny will die. Because I am not there.

Thinking of Ron and Harry, she allowed herself to envision their faces for the first time since Severus had coloured her ringlets like that of her flame-haired friend. Harry, often so haunted and so serious, yet his eyes were beautiful when he laughed, which was often when Ron was with him...and Ron, dear Ron, so silly, so clueless and shy, seldom saying the right thing, and all the more endearing for it. Her heart was flooded with homesickness, the very feeling she'd choked back all these days. Ron and Harry might die, and then Ginny would die, because she was not there to help them.

But Severus had said he would not be able to live without her. Was that true? If he was a teacher at Hogwarts as she knew him, he would. Would he run away? Or was his future set? She just did not know. He had friends who would be there for him, as he said they were in his first year, after his mother was killed. But he'd said he needed her! And she needed him...didn't she? But would he die without her? And if he truly loved her, would he wait for her? She would wait for him! He would be all right, he is much too clever to fail at anything. And she would see him again...Ron and Harry might die, and then Ginny would die, because she was not there to help them...

Her eyes brimming with unshed tears, she turned back to the room. Both professors were staring at her, silently waiting for her decision. She wished she had more time to think...but would it matter? No time to find out. Sweet Severus, I am so sorry...

Her voice breaking, the tears spilling over, she said, "I have to go back."


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Please leave reviews here if you'd like to. But...after all the poo I've taken for this story, if you are only going to tell me something that is unconstructive and nothing else, don't bother, because I am pretty high-strung about that now. Ask anyone else who's reviewd!

Chapter Sixteen--Severus Spies

Severus had slipped from the castle by a side exit. In their graceful, catlike way, his long legs carried him down the sloping hill to the edge of the lake. Slowly he began to follow the shoreline.

She would not have gone too far from the school, but she would have sought privacy. Well, as much privacy as she could have found, dear thing. What a risk to have taken! I will sing to her courage someday, lift my glass, and toast her bravery.

As he ambled along, Severus acknowledged with a small chuckle that perhaps his Hermione had more courage than even he did. Perhaps the talk of Gryffindor House standing for courage was real after all. His chuckle turned to a snort of derision as he thought of the "Marauders." How much courage did it take to make a device that allowed them spy on others, to keep themselves from risk? It was clever, no doubt, but not brave. He wondered vaguely why no Slytherin had ever come up with such a device. It would have been more fitting, after all.

He puzzled over the device, trying to work out in his mind just what it might be, when he spotted what he'd been looking for. Footprints. Small, delicate footprints--the footprints of the girl he loved. They would only be at the very edge of the water--the ground was still too cold at night to allow much imprint elsewhere. Squatting down, he reached out a tapered forefinger and traced the edges of one of her prints. He smiled, a secret smile. She'd been naked when she made this print. Soon he would see her this way, on another night, in a warm room, with a large bed. Soon she would be his, body and soul, as he would belong to her. And yet...

The prints were still so small. She was only fourteen years old. Despite what life was like among the Romany, she had not led that life. She was not even a full-grown woman yet, and to be married...perhaps he asked too much from her. He could wait--he would tell her so. He could wait until she was ready to marry him. The important thing was that they escape from this place--together. The rest, he could wait for. It would only make it sweeter still, when she was his. Sweet Hermione...his smile grew. Unbeknownst to anyone, it was the handsomest smile he'd ever produced.

But his smile faded as he looked away from Hermione's prints. Dark eyes narrowing, he traced another set of prints. Very small. The prints of some animal...a rodent, perhaps.

He rose then, his eyes roving about, backing up to scan the area. He saw no other human prints. Pettigrew had been lying! There were no prints from that little rat-faced gi-- his breath hitched. Striding back to Hermione's print, he squatted once more. Rat-faced...a rodent. No. No, it could not be. Pettigrew could barely remember to do his homework! There was no way he could have managed this. Or had he been wrong about the boy?

Thoughtful, excited, Severus turned away from the lakeside. Hands clasped behind his back, he once again climbed the path that led toward the school, but turned before entering, continuing on toward the small meadow between the lake and the Forbidden Forest. He strolled along, aware of his surroundings, yet thinking of Pettigrew. Were there other times Pettigrew had been secretive? Yet he had been not made a Slytherin...interesting...something clearly was missing in him that kept him unworthy.

When he heard voices approaching at his back, he slipped stealthily from the path, taking refuge behind a small bank of rowan trees. Crouching down, he listened carefully. If it happened to be the alpha Marauders, spying on him again, he would ask Hermione to identify the device, and he would make sure it was taken from them.

But it wasn't James Potter or Sirius Black. Instead, he heard a woman's voice. He waited. When the mysterious voices passed, Severus stood, quietly easing a branch from his line of sight. It was Madame Pomfrey, walking with Remus Lupin! Curious, he followed, silent as a panther.

Curious and curiouser, he thought to himself, remembering a muggle story his father had given to him for his fourth birthday--a book his mother had later read aloud to him, more than once. Alice in Wonderland. And where are the White Rabbit and the Mock Turtle going? Down the rabbit hole? A vision passed in front of his eyes, and he stifled a snigger. Severus, love has made a soppy fool of you...don't you dare start thinking of fatherhood yet!

He ducked behind a boulder when the pair ahead of him stopped. They stood right at the edge of the Whomping Willow, which, sensing them, began to thrash its branches wildly about, as if seeking prey. Surprised, he could only gape as Remus took a long branch from near a hedgerow and, reaching out, used it to push against a knot on the Whomping Willow's broad trunk. Immediately the tree ceased its mad gyrations. Madame Pomfrey took the branch from Lupin and placed it back against the hedgerow, then followed him as he went down into the tree! Rabbit hole indeed!

Stealthily, burning with curiosity, Severus followed. He was about halfway under the Willow's branches when he heard someone speak. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you, it's not safe."

Whirling about, he encountered the squat figure of Peter Pettigrew. "And why would you care?" he retorted.

Nervously, but without his usual squeaky stutter, Pettigrew replied. "Could I have a cank with you? Would you agree to that?" He shifted from foot to foot. "Best get out from under there, the effect doesn't last long."

Eyes narrowed, Severus walked back beyond the reach of the tree. "What did you wish to discuss, Pettigrew, the weather, or the fact that you're an animagus?" He stood with his arms crossed in front of him, enjoying Peter's shock. "Better shut your cake-hole, you're catching flies."

Peter gulped. "Right." He surprised Severus with a shame-faced grin. "So you worked it out then?"

"Of course, I'm not a fool." Severus quipped.

"'Course not, never said you were. Well...so you know a secret of mine, I say all's fair, you know....there's something I want to know."

"And why should I give you any information, rat boy?"

"I've been thinking, Snape."

"Dangerous, considering the source."

"I'm serious." Impervious to Severus' disdainful look, he continued. "I've been thinking that things are changing around here...maybe have already changed. And I've been thinking you wouldn't be a bad bloke to have on one's side, as it were..." Peter's eyes shifted, and he wrung his hands. "The tricks you played on us all...bloody clever, those. Especially that ginger stuff." he grinned slightly, and Severus was amazed to detect a hint of glee in Peter's eyes. "They had it coming, after all, didn't they?"

"Did they?" Severus answered, unfolding his long arms. "So...things have changed, according to you, in your ultimate wisdom. And you are an animagus. Do the rest of them know it?"

"Them? Oh! Them...no, they don't know about that, not at all."

Severus knew it was a lie, but decided to wait Peter out. Secretly, he felt a thrill of exhilaration. To have the little rat on his side! But what if it was just a rat trap, with Pettigrew's secret as the bait? While continuing to speak, he opened his mind to the contents of Peter's head. He didn't see James, or Sirius, however. Instead, he was shocked to find Hermione--Hermione, dancing in Peter's head--literally dancing, in her long white nightgown. She was in her little room in Professor McGonagall's quarters.

Not giving himself away, he inquired, "And what information is it that you want from me?"

Coming closer, eyes intense, Peter asked, "That girl...she disappeared! I admit it; I spied on her, as a rat, that night before the, well, before the tricks you played. I wanted to know how she knew about our map. And she came in the window, while I hid under a stool and watched. You helped her inside. And she got into bed, and messed about with this little pendant she wore about her neck, and disappeared! I never saw that before, people can't apparate in Hogwarts--at least that's what we've always been told. I want to know how she did that."

Containing his excitement at Peter's revelation of the device being a map, ignoring his anger at Peter's spying, Severus carefully ventured, "You care about that? It's nothing, really. We can both do that."

"You can?" Peter breathed. "How? Sometimes, we've seen your name in two places at once! Is that part of it?"

"It's really not that important, Peter," he answered, making sure to replace the boy's surname with his Christian one, a sure sign of respect. "We don't abuse it, not like you Gryffindor lot and that map."

Peter gasped as he realized his faux pas. "You--you won't tell the others, will you? That I said anything about it?" Nervously, he bit his lower lip. "They'd murder me if they found out."

"Of course not, Peter," Severus smiled mischievously, placing his hand on the shorter boy's shoulder, a gesture of solidarity. "I am coming to agree with you on that other point. I think an alliance with you could be useful, and I'll make it worth your while as well. But first, there's one thing you have to do for me."

"What is it, Severus? What can I do?" Severus hid his disgust at the smaller boy's eagerness. He was no longer curious about what had kept Pettigrew from Slytherin House. He was too obsequious. No Slytherin would try that hard to please anyone but themselves and family, and certainly never as openly as this.

"I want that map to disappear. Give it to Mr. Filch. You don't have to tell him what it is. But get it out of Potter's hands. He's a menace."

"You don't want it?" Peter asked, amazed." I thought sure you'd want it for yourself."

"I won't be needing it." Severus smiled indulgently. "In fact, the last thing I will need after tonight is a map of Hogwarts. And when it's gone, when I know Filch has it, I will do a favour for you."

Peter grinned. "I was right, wasn't I? We would make a good team?"

"Yes, but Peter, not out in the open. I'm sure you agree we can do better as secret friends, don't you? After all, Potter and Black wouldn't smile on us being partners, now would they?"

"Exactly, Severus, I agree! Mum's the word! You can count on me."

"Good enough. Best you go on now, we shouldn't be seen together, should anyone come along. Besides, it's getting dark, almost time for dinner. But someday I would love to see your transformation, I'm sure it's impressive."

"Oh! Sure, sure...um…see you later then." Peter gave Severus a limp little wave, and scuttled off toward the school.

Severus smiled indulgently after the boy as he hurried off, yet his eyes were narrowed. His head gave a barely perceptible shake of disrespect. What a fool you are, Pettigrew. You've told me two secrets, and I've given you absolutely nothing in exchange. Nor do I intend to, you little toad. Disgusting. And all to avoid having me kick your backside with my wand and anything else I find handy. No wonder snakes eat rats.

He felt exuberant as he went back around the lake, to dinner. That uncomfortable little meeting with Dumbledore aside, this was turning into one of the finest days of his young life. He realised he'd not yet found out how Peter thought he'd saved Hermione's life, or why Lupin was tunneling under trees with the school nurse. He felt he was actually very close to getting all four of the 'Marauders' expelled. What an excellent trick that would be! Then he grinned to himself as he realised he didn't really care. Soon he would be far from this place, with Hermione. Let the schoolboys have their games. As he happily went through the entryway to the Great Hall, he just missed seeing three figures leave by the side exit--two older wizards, and a girl, wrapped warmly in a grey velvet cloak. But another pair of eyes did not miss them. Those gray eyes glittered as he watched them hurry off toward Hogsmeade. The mouth beneath the enigmatic eyes smirked.

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At dinner that evening, Severus enjoyed the company of his friends, knowing that it would be the last meal he might ever take with them. It lent a bittersweet cast to his euphoric feelings--one he didn't care for. He would see them again, of course he would! He only wished he could tell him of his plans. But that would be dangerous for Hermione and himself. Whether Dumbledore could read their minds he didn't know, but he suspected it could be done easily enough. Better that they not know what was to come.

Thinking of Dumbledore, he glanced up at the staff table, and noted that Dumbledore was not in his usual place. Well, that was nothing to be concerned about. Dumbledore often had to go to London on school business. Professor McGonagall was there, however, and as their eyes met, Severus thought he detected a note of pity in hers once more. Oh, feel sorry for me all you please, you old cow, he thought. Little do you know that soon Hermione and I will be out from under your nose, for good!

There was the usual clatter and scrape of benches as students finished dinner and began wandering toward their common rooms. Muttering about Transfigurations homework in the library, Evan and Sterling left before Severus and Regulus had finished dessert. When they later left the Great Hall, Severus threw his arm over Regulus' shoulders, something he seldom did. Regulus glanced up in surprise, and then grinned. Laughing, Severus pulled him closer, and they companionably made their way toward the dungeons.

Standing at the head of the stairs, nonchalantly waiting for them, it seemed, was Sirius Black. Severus saw his gray eyes narrow when he saw Severus' arm around Regulus' shoulders. "Snape. How pleasant to see you taking such good care of my little brother."

"What the hell do you want, Black?" Severus replied. "You should go back to the Great Hall. There's ginger snaps for pudding. And we all know how much you love ginger." He was rewarded by Regulus' barely concealed giggle, could feel the younger boy’s shoulders shaking under his protective arm.

"A clever trick, I suppose, but I could have done better."

Severus snorted in reply, pulling Regulus with him, toward the steps, but Sirius continued, "Just thought you might like to know...I saw your little girlfriend tonight, walking away from school with Dumbledore and some other wizard I didn't know. Just in case, you know, you cared to know."

Pulling up short of the steps, Severus stood eye-to-eye with Sirius. "And since when do you care about what I want to know?"

"I thought you might want to know she'd gone; that's all. You played a good trick on us, Severus, I'll admit it. So I concede one point. If someone had absconded with my girlfriend, I'd want to know about it, that's all."

"Is it true, Sirius?" Severus looked down at the source of the question, and saw Regulus, his face earnest, eyes pleading.

Under the intensity of his brother's gaze, Sirius glanced down to the floor and then back again. Tracing an imaginary 'X' across his chest with a forefinger, he told his brother, "Cross my heart, hope to die, Reg. I saw them leave just before dinner."

"Where did they go?" Severus asked, a trickle of uncertainty making the hairs stand up on the nape of his neck.

"Hogsmeade, I suspect. They took the secret tunnel."

"What tunnel is that?"

"The one that runs under the Whomping Willow. It leads to a small shed by Hogsmeade Station. They probably went to the train, don't you think?"

"I already saw Lupin go through that today, with Madame Pomfrey."

Sirius' eyes widened. "Did you? How convenient. Well, you know he gets sick. His 'condition' and all. She takes him that way to get him to St. Mungo's, you know, when he has an attack. That way the whole bloody school isn't watching him leave, you know? So you know how to stop the Willow, then?"

"Yeah, the knot, I know. That's still no reason to believe Dumbledore went that way. There's no reason for me to believe a single thing you say."

Sirius crossed his arms and leant against the balustrade once more. "If you don't believe me, ask McGonagall. She'd know, wouldn't she?"

"I guess I'll do that." Severus answered coolly, though his heart had begun to pound. Loosening Regulus' shoulders, he said, "Why don't you go down to the Common Room, Reg? I'll be there shortly."

"No, I'll go with you, Sev."

Not wishing to waste time arguing with Regulus, and without another word to Sirius, Severus took a hasty leave of the brothers, taking the staircase upward instead of down, and by the time he'd reached the first floor, he was taking the steps two at a time. Ignoring Regulus' calls for him to slow down, he practically leapt up the stairs, then raced down the hall to Professor McGonagall's suite on the third floor.

Pounding upon the door, he waited impatiently for his Transfigurations teacher to answer, shifting agitatedly from foot to foot. Pulling the door open, she frowned. "What is it, Mr. Snape? I don't appreciate being roused from my reading by what sounds like an ogre at my door!"

"I need to speak to Hermione, please? Ma'am, only for a minute, I promise. I swear."

Sighing, the Professor's eyes took on that note of pity Severus hated. "I'm sorry Mr. Snape, but she is no longer here. She's been taken to return to her own time. She won't be back, not in this time, at least."

"But...but..." Severus gulped as he felt his breath choke off in his chest. "I..." and without another word, he ran, rushing past Regulus as he was just catching up, ignoring his calls to come back.

He took her, the betrayer! He thought, as he raced down the steps. Took her right under my nose! What did he tell her to get her to leave? What lies? Maybe he kidnapped her! Would Dumbledore do that? He couldn't...no, he had to have done! But...what if it wasn't Dumbledore, but someone with polyjuice? Someone who wants to hurt her in order to hurt me, some enemy? Maybe Sirius did it himself! Took the polyjuice, tricked McGonagall, and lured Hermione away with some lie, whilst that rat Pettigrew distracted me! That's it, that's what they did, the murderers! I'll kill them! Kill them! If they've touched a hair on her head, I'll kill them sure as I live!

He saw James Potter out of the corner of his eye as he rushed past him, then whirled around, and grabbing the collar of James' robes, slammed him hard against the stone wall. Whisking his wand from his pocket, he brandished it at James' throat, causing several girls standing nearby to squeal in fright and back away. "What did you to her? Where is she? I'll kill you if you so much as laid a finger on her!"

Wha..?" James muttered, shaking his head groggily, as if to clear it. "What are you on about, Snape, are you daft? Who's 'her?' What are you talking about?"

"Hermione!" Severus growled. "What did you do with her?"

"Her...who? Nothing, what..." as James' eyes focused, they hardened. "Get off me, Snape. Who would touch anyone you cared about anyhow? Bug off."

"I'll find out the truth. And when I do, you're dead." Severus backed away, still holding out his wand. "Mark my words."

Glaring at Sirius as he approached and joined his friend, wand steady, Severus finished. "I'll kill all of you." As he turned and ran to the doors, he heard Sirius' mocking, barking laugh.

Filled with dread and righteous fury, he ran out into the night, darting along the path around the lake. The rising moon was hidden behind a bank of clouds, but provided enough light for him to find his way. He quickly broke for the meadow and the Whomping Willow. Stopping only to sweep the long branch from the ground under the hedgerow, he leant in and shoved the it ruthlessly against the knot in the Willow's trunk, stopping its fledgling thrashes. Throwing the branch aside carelessly, he ducked down between the thick roots of the tree, into the tunnel.

Gasping for breath, Severus blinked, trying to force his eyes to adjust to the quickening gloom, but it was no use. The air was dank here, like an old cellar; its earthy smell was heavy and close. Rasping it out, he whispered to his wand, "Lumos," and its faint glow illuminated his path. He squinted anew, dismayed by what he saw. There would be no hurrying along this tunnel. It was small, the ceiling so low he would have to almost bend himself in half just to navigate it. Steeling himself, thinking of Hermione's peril, he forged ahead.

It was a slow journey, and it was painful. His back ached. Why in Merlin's name would Madame Pomfrey want to go this way? They should have done a better job of this tunnel, it was nearly impossible to navigate! In addition to his physical discomfort, he fancied heard scrabbling sounds behind him, but refused to slow down or turn around. Hermione needed him, he would not fail her! If there was something awful behind him, it would be best to stay well ahead of it. He would find another way out than that which he had used to find her.

At last the tunnel seemed to rise, and there was a tiny amount of ease in the space, allowing him to straighten a bit. He increased his speed, and saw the curve in the tunnel. Excited, sensing he was almost through, he hurried on, and yelped in surprise when he was tackled from behind! His wand was knocked from his hand, and its glow disappeared. Growling in fear and anger, Severus flailed at his assailant, his punches landing haphazardly.

"For Merlins' sake, Snape, knock it off!" a voice growled in his ear. "You can't do this...can't go on. You'll be killed!"

James Potter. The voice only angered Severus more. He kicked now, scratched, tore at James. He heard an anguished groan as his boot connected with a tender spot. Scrambling out from under the other young wizard, he groped for his wand. As soon as his hand met it, he renewed the light spell and scrabbled out of Potter's reach. Rounding the corner, he saw a faint light ahead. Suddenly the tunnel filled with the reverberations of a mournful, unearthly scream. Hermione! Severus pushed on hurriedly.

"No! No further, you prat!" He felt James grab his knees and growled in fury as he fell to the ground once more.

Before he could stop it, his wand was flung from his hand by James' wordless magic. As he scrambled after it, he heard a whispered, "Silencio!" Then, "Incarcerous." He cursed silently as his body was bound by magical ropes. He could only watch helplessly as James pocketed his wand. Angrily, James knelt down near his head. Pulling his head up by his long hair, making him wince, James whispered fiercely, "Now, look, you stupid prat! Look down that tunnel! You are not going that way. I'm taking you out of here." Severus looked--and was horrified. It was a wolf, yet not one. It paced, agitated, in front of the tunnel's entrance, in sight, out of sight, in sight, and out. Furiously, it pulled strips of cloth from its shoulders, shaking them in its jaws. A werewolf. Oh my God, Hermione, what have they done to you? But he was powerless to help her now.

Crouching, James pointed his wand once more at Severus, and he felt himself lifted from the ground. James was surprisingly gentle in this, and Severus made no contact with the walls or the ceiling. It was a faster journey back than it had been going toward the werewolf. James settled Severus in a sitting position at the entrance to the tunnel. Settling across from him, he caught his breath. Severus took in the other boy's torn robes, his torn face, and was glad for it. If Potter was stupid enough to free him, he'd finish the job.

"Now..." James gasped. "No matter what you think, I didn't hurt anyone. And no, your girl is not down this tunnel." His voice wasn't angry anymore, it only sounded defeated. Something in his eyes made Severus realise he was telling the truth. A part of him relaxed, calmer now in knowing Hermione was not at that monster's mercy. Waving his wand, James removed the silencing spell.

"Then...why did Sirius say so?" was the first thing he uttered.

"How the hell do I know?” James retorted. “Because he's a mad, daft idiot! I frankly couldn't believe he sent you down here, he could have--" he gulped.

"Killed me? Oh, and you never tried to kill me?"

"I never tried to kill you, you idiot. I never was out of control."

"So you say. Somehow it didn't feel that way to me."

"Whatever you think, I wasn't out to cause anyone's death. But you're right, I was a pain in the behind. Had a long talk with Lily about it...it won't happen again, Snape. Even if you try to push me. If anything happens between us now, it'll be coming from you." he winced, shifting his position. "Damn, Snape, my poor packet. First that ginger stuff, now you kicked 'em...keep this up, and I'll never be a father."

The last thing Severus felt like discussing with James was the condition of his family jewels. He only scowled.

"Let me loose."

Sighing, James released the ropes binding Severus. Rubbing his wrists where the ropes had chafed them, he asked, "And the werewolf?"

"The werewolf? Well, Lupin, of course. How thick are you, anyway, Snape?"

"No, you idiot, why is he in Hogsmeade? He could kill someone."

James rolled his eyes. "The Shrieking Shack, knob-head. He can't get out of it, can't come back out this way. He doesn't remember the knot when he's like that. Keeps him safe, keeps everybody else safe. Speaking of which, however, he can come this far, so we should get out of here."

Severus couldn't help but agree. Using the earthen wall of the tunnel for leverage, he raised himself to a cramped crouch and crept from the tunnel, James following. Emerging from the tunnel, he reached over quickly and pressed the knot before the tree could attack. Relieved to stand straight and tall at last, he was caught in mid-stretch by the sight of Sirius Black, standing out of reach of the tree, his wand pointed right at Severus.

The moon was partially hidden by cloud cover, but Severus could see Black's face. No words were spoken; they only stood and glared at one another until James crawled from the tunnel. "Prongs, you made it!" Sirius gasped in relief, a smile coming to his lips.

No one was prepared for James' reaction. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you, you idiot!" James shouted, striding forward and shoving Sirius in the chest with each question he asked, causing him to step back to avoid falling. "You could have killed Snape! And how would Mooney feel about that when he found out what he'd done? What the hell--why would you do that? How utterly insane!"

Sirius' smile disappeared. As he raised his hands in supplication to James, Severus knew he could have used that moment to fire a curse, yet he did not. Even as he stood, watching the argument, he could feel his mind slipping, slipping back beyond the immediate moment, past his relief at Hermione's safety to the other reality of her...Hermione was gone. She was gone, back to her own time. McGonagall and her pity...Dumbledore and his pity...Hermione, gone, not to return for years, and he would be old then, he'd be old, and she would be a child who would think of him as an authority figure, not a lover, just another old man...she was gone, and he could never have her back again. Not the way he wanted. He couldn't breathe...he felt like his chest had been crushed in.

"I...hell, I don't know! He deserved it, all right?" sputtered Sirius. "He deserved it for what he did to us!"

"He burnt our jewels for a few hours, so he should be ripped to pieces? You are utterly mad, Sirius! There is something very wrong with you! Grow up!" With a final, disgusted shove, James stormed off. Severus, with the litany of Hermione is gone playing in his head, stood still as a statue, watching Sirius, who made no move, except to follow the retreating figure of his best friend with wet gray eyes. When Sirius gave an involuntary gasp, Severus followed his gaze with his own, and found the source--a small figure, standing near the same boulder Severus had hidden behind earlier in the day. A small figure, his fists clenched at his sides, white and trembling. Regulus.

"You...you tried to get him killed?" Regulus' voice was a mere whisper--only the soft night breeze carried it to Severus' ears. He saw Sirius take a step toward his brother.

"You tried to get him killed." The voice was surer now, stronger. "You hoped he'd die. You sent him to die."

"Regulus, I..." Sirius began.

"YOU SENT HIM TO DIE!" Regulus shrieked, the words tearing from his throat, piercing them both like a sword. "You sent him to die, and I hate you for it! I HATE you! I HATE you!" The cloud covering the moon slid aside, revealing the tears glistening on Regulus' cheeks, the tormented look in his eyes. The boy backed away from Sirius. "Don't you dare touch me! You're no brother of mine! Severus is my brother, not you! I'm telling mum and dad what you did! You'll never be allowed home again when they know! I HATE you! I HATE you!"

Severus could bear no more. With the sound of Regulus' anguished cries ringing in his ears, he ran. He ran past the Whomping Willow, toward the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. Stumbling, slowing only long enough to get his balance, he plunged into the deep brush, into the trees--and disappeared.

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Omigod, I hope I did this one right! Please leave reviews here, thanks!

Chapter Seventeen--Hermione's Hope

Hermione sat quietly on the floor. Her arms were wrapped around the knee her chin rested upon. She did not weep. Crying was a waste of time. She had made her decision, and she could not change her mind now. There was too much at stake. As it was, she felt almost numb. She was grateful for that.

Her eyes wandered to the magically-sealed glass opening in the floor once more. There was nothing to see--the sky had gone dark. She suspected they were flying over water by now.

Oh, Severus...what do you think of me, in your future--my future? Will you, do you, hate me?

"Mademoiselle Granger?"

Hermione looked up, to find the kind face of Nicholas Flamel. Seating himself a few feet away at one of the desks available in this part of the carriage, setting down a wineglass of fine crystal upon its surface, he observed her. "You cannot see a view now, therefore, your mind must be elsewhere. You are thinking, are you not, of the young man?"

"Yes Sir." she admitted, sighing. The sigh seemed to release her pent-up feelings and the numbness vanished. Pressing her forehead into her knee, she said, "I want to go back! I don't want to do this! Yet I must...I must. It's like being caged, and the only way out is toward another cage. I hate this."

The eminent alchemist said nothing right away, only nodded sympathetically. After a short pause, he told her, "There are times in our lives in which we feel trapped. These times are when any decision will cause pain, either to us or to those we love. These are the hardest, most difficult tests of our character." He reached across the short distance and patted her shoulder in his fatherly way. "You, Mademoiselle Granger, are to be admired. For I know you have chosen, not considering what you wanted for your own happiness, but as you felt you must, for the sake of others."

"But Severus won't forgive me, will he? Why would he? And what will become of him now? I know him in the future--but he is so different. Will it have been because of me?"

"That, no one can say." Professor Flamel gazed pensively at the wineglass. "But we should never take the blame for how another person deals with life's problems, nor feel completely responsible for what their decisions do to change them. As I said, it is all about our own choices, oui? That is all we can control."

"I suppose so." Hermione sighed. "Professor Flamel, how long before we reach the portal?"

"Oh, the carriage will go for a small while yet. I do wish we could have gone in the day, so you could see beneath us."

"It's a beautiful carriage." Hermione admitted.

"Oui, and so kind was Madame Maxime to loan it to us. I have always admired the magnificent steeds of Beauxbatons."

"Professor Flamel? Where is Professor Dumbledore?"

"In the teacher's study. I have given him Jonah's diary to read."

"That must be hard for him--to learn of a friend that was taken from him."

"That I do not know...perhaps. Far harder, possibly, to remember a friend you have lost."

Hermione sighed again, sniffed. "Yes."

"Come, Mademoiselle Granger, it is best you went to bed. It is quite late, and your day has been long and trying. It may be that you will feel much better after a bit of rest." He took up the as yet untouched wineglass and handed it to her. "This is for you, my dear. Take this wine with you and have three sips before you turn in. When you waken, we will be at the portal."

"Thank you, Sir. Good-night."

As Hermione climbed the small flight of steps that led to the upper hall, she felt she would get no rest at all. As always, Severus' face would be before her eyes, changing, morphing from love, to anger, to hatred, the faint lines of care deepening into furrows. He would hate her. And it would be her fault. She knew she would never feel better. Not ever.

After changing into Professor McGonagall's prim white nightgown, she sat on the edge of the bed, one of many in a row in this long room, holding the small goblet. Taking the three small sips required, she set the glass down and lay back against the pillows. The numbness had returned, and as the lights grew dim, Hermione gave one last sigh. It would soon be done. She could now only hope that what she found on the other side of the portal was something she could withstand.

*******************

When Hermione awoke, it was to an even deeper darkness, brightened only by torches. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She was no longer in the carriage. Looking down, she realised her white nightgown had been replaced by her school robes. It was unnerving, to think someone had changed her clothes for her while she slept. It felt wrong. She felt slightly violated, though it was clear no harm had come to her. She hoped it had been a charm. She did not like the thought of being touched without her consent.

All around her were walls of stone. On all sides, the rock looked as if it were liquid, seeming to flow down the walls in waves of rust and cream. There were no torch sconces fastened to the walls; in here, the torches floated on the air. Around her, Hermione made out the bright artworks upon the stone. Gasping, she realised she was looking at prehistoric art, not unlike that which she had seen in photographs of Lascaux. It was a cave.

Off to the side, Hermione heard a gentle murmuring, and turned to see a small, clustered group of wizards and witches standing nearby, whispering. One of the witches looked up and spied her watching them. Motioning to the others, they all turned as one to face her.

"She has wakened."

The witch approached her. "Miss Granger? How are you feeling?" she asked with a kind smile. Hermione noted the sweet note of a Welsh accent in the witch's voice. She allowed the older witch to help her to her feet. The others of the group smiled and nodded to her by way of greeting, then returned to their low, murmured conversation.

"I'm...I'm fine." she said, adjusting her school robes.

"Ah, do not worry about the change. I charmed that." the older witch assured her.

"Thank you." Hermione answered gratefully. "Where are we?" she asked, looking around once more.

"In a cave...in France. It is where the portal is located...though it will soon be moved."

"You can move the portal?"

"Oh yes. It has been here for a very long time, but this cave will soon be discovered by the muggles. Within eighteen years or so, we will have to locate a more suitable site and put it in place there."

"How do you know about the discovery?"

"Ah..." the witch smiled, her merry green eyes crinkling in the corners. "I just sometimes know these things. May I introduce myself? My name is Cassandra, Cassandra Trelawney."

"Cassandra Trelawney?" Hermione gasped. "I know about you, you're a famous seer! I know your great-great-granddaughter, too." she added, keeping her expression neutral.

"Sybil? Oh yes, isn't she wonderful? Poor thing."

"Well..." Hermione hesitated. "She doesn't seem to have your, er, gifts."

Madame Trelawney frowned slightly. "Ah, that's just it. She does, actually. But unlike me, she cannot control, cannot focus her power. It comes without her knowledge. She doesn't remember her true predictions. It is most unfair for the gift to manifest itself in that way."

"Does she? Oh...I, I didn't think she did. I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't assume."

"Ah, we all do that on occasion." Madame Trelawney smiled. "A human failing."

"Madame Trelawney? Er...will this hurt?" Hermione asked nervously.

Again came the ready smile. "Ah, no, child. I don't think so. We've all used the portal, it's a condition of membership in this order, a matter of respect for its power. It didn't hurt me."

"Whew." Hermione breathed out.

"Ah...Madame Trelawney. In this you are correct, but..." Professor Dumbledore stepped away from the group and approached them. "Miss Granger, I am sorry, but you should know. According to Professor Flamel, you will reappear exactly in the place and time you left, so..." his expression was that of sympathy.

"Oh...and when I left, I was falling down the steps. Oh dear." she grimaced. "So I shall knock my head and break my leg all over again?"

"Well, that is possible, unless of the course of your fall changes in the future. I am truly sorry." Professor Dumbledore finished.

"Ah well." Hermione sighed. "There's nothing for it. I shall just have to try not to tense up. I could make it worse."

"Shall we go? Mademoiselle Granger, it is time."

Hermione nodded assent to Professor Flamel, who had joined them while Professor Dumbledore was speaking. "Yes." She took a deep breath. "I'm ready."

Professor Flamel offered Hermione his arm, and she took it gratefully. Despite her resolution to remain calm, she was trembling. Professor Flamel patted her hand. Hermione was moved by his constant attempts to provide comfort, and blinked back tears. It seemed her body was determined to feel the emotions she was trying so desperately to quell.

They led the group along a passage, and the floating torches accompanied them, half in front, half behind. In just a few minutes, they came to another, larger room. As the group came to a halt, the torches moved on, surrounding a slightly raised dais, upon which rested the portal.

Hermione had expected a gateway of stone, possibly, cracked and ancient. Instead, the portal had the look of polished steel! It looked very modern, even ultra-modern. She could discern no rivets or seams in the shining metal. It stood high and open, a perfect arch. The metal gleamed with light of its own; it did not need the torches to be seen. Within the portal glowed a light of silvery-lavender hue, like a misting of colored rain. As the rain--for Hermione knew of no other name to call it--reached the floor, it swirled up again to the top of the portal, creating a never-ending stream of movement. Surprised, she looked to Professor Flamel.

He nodded at her astonishment. "Ah, oui, you can imagine how surprised we were to find this, so many hundreds of years ago!" he winked. "We do not know the origin of this portal, there is still much mystery surrounding it. Perhaps it is from a early, undiscovered, yet advanced civilisation? Perhaps, it is of extra-terrestrial origins? We just do not know."

Hermione almost asked who had been the first to give the portal a try, not even knowing what it did or where it might take them, but she found her throat was too dry for speech. Whoever it had been, they had been a very brave soul.

Professor Flamel was all kindness. "If you could come this way, Mademoiselle Granger?" He gently led her toward the dais.

As she stepped upon it, he released her arm. As she watched, all of the members of the Order surrounded the dais. The torches pulled back behind them all, and their faces were bathed in the lavender glow of the portal. Her eyes found Professor Dumbledore, and he gave her a small smile and an encouraging nod. She vaguely wondered to herself if he was a new member of this Order. She suspected that was the case, if he did not know of his friend, Jonah Rollins, before yesterday. Suddenly she understood the possible reason for the delay in Professor Flamel's response. He would have had to discuss this with the others, and ascertain how to work it all out without risking the portal. But she knew that they would not err in having Professor Dumbledore know of it. She knew of no one more trustworthy than her Headmaster. She took courage from his steady gaze, and breathed easier.

"Mademoiselle Granger?" she heard Professor Flamel's voice behind her. "It is quite simple. When you feel ready, you simply walk through. We all wish you good journey. We all hope for the best for you."

She couldn't speak, she only nodded. Nervously licking her lips, she looked up and faced the portal full-on. It was like a beacon. As its light reached out to her, she felt an irresistable pull toward it, and her nervousness vanished. Finding Professor Dumbledore's eyes once again, she smiled. It would be all right. It had been the right decision. She thought of Ron, and Harry. She thought of her parents, and nodded to herself. She thought of Severus, and she knew she would see him on the other side. There would have to be a way she could assure him she had never meant to hurt him! It would be all right. It had to be all right.

Gazing steadfastly at the portal, she walked forward...and through.

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Author's notes:

1. The cave in which Hermione finds herself is called Chauvet-Pont-d'Arc. It was discovered in December of 1994, only months after the future part of this story takes place. Unlike Lascaux, it has never been open to the public.

2. Thank you to everyone who has so patiently waited for this chapter! I'm sure you thought it would never be written, but I never will abandon a fic! I simply had a rather horrid job for a number of months that pretty must sapped all my energy. Thankfully, I've given notice! Just knowing I will soon be rid of it has helped! I feel my creative juices returning, and look forward to finishing this fiction soon. Again, thanks for your patience--you've been great!

Feedback can be left here, thanks!

Whew! Finally!

Chapter Eighteen--Severus Stumbles

The forest was dark, but far from quiet. Severus lay still now, taking in the sounds of the night, without caring from where, or what, they came. His thoughts were not of them. Small creatures scurried, keeping undercover, and hawks, bats, and thestrals soared overhead, competing for space and sound. But Severus lay still.

He'd run and run, once he'd reached the forest, till his breath seared his lungs and his legs trembled with the strain, yet he raced on. The pain in his body was nothing to the pain in his heart, and he felt he could run forever as long as it provided some relief from the ache that felt most mortal. Then he'd missed a step, stumbled, fallen. He could not rise. His breathing hitched, and he retched in the effort to catch it. Attempts to rise brought a shriek as his right ankle buckled. He didn't know if it was broken, or only badly sprained. It didn't matter. He couldn't fix it. Not even if he'd had his wand, which, he realised, he didn't. He remembered then--James had taken it, and had never had a chance to return it.

Severus had crawled to the side of a fallen tree, and sat with his back against it. Would a creature here come and eat him alive? Would it hurt? Did he care? He knew he didn't. He thought of Hermione, her face as she'd said that, yes, she was his and would marry him. He thought of her amused shock when he'd touched her in that way he knew he should not have, but had so wanted to. It was so little, that touch, but now he wished he hadn't done it. His last touch with her had been unclean, mocking, a way of showing his intimacy, his mastery, of her. He didn't want that to have been the last time he could touch her. If it had to have been the last time, wanted to remember a soft, gentle embrace. He wanted Hermione back, he wanted her now. But she was gone. He choked back a sob, and as he did so, he thought of his mother, and the sob was released. He had been robbed of his last tender touch, and he was torn between being disconsolate and livid.

He didn't want to cry. He was too angry, too shaken. He let go one sob, but no tears. There would never be another tear. He would not allow even one, not ever. Not for them, those that had taken what mattered most to him. Unknowingly, his hands had become fists, and his sobs had become growls. The growls rose in volume until he found himself making sounds that an enraged animal would make, sounds without meaning, the sounds of rage. He fueled them as they rose in volume, with thoughts of Hermione being lied to, taken advantage of, lured away from him. Dumbledore and his deceit. The Marauders and their arrogance, their teasing which was but thinly-veiled torture. He thought of his father, Him, that Snape, the Greedy One, who never stopped harrassing his wife, never stopped urging her to do the unthinkable to enrich himself. Severus thought of his father's rage that night, when the elder Snape taken Severus's mother by the shoulders and had shaken her, shaken her till her head had struck the door frame, until her eyes had rolled back into her head and she sank out of his grip to the floor, from which she had never risen again of her own power. At the thought of his father's rage, Severus's own shrieks turned to groans and then, moans, and faded away. But no tears came. He would not allow it. He turned and faced the fallen tree. Lying on his side, he curled against its rough bark and lay still.

And the night went on. His thoughts were his private territory in that teeming forest. He remembered his mother's smile. She smiled so seldom, but more often when she was away from that Snape. He hadn't always made her sad, that Snape. He had been kind and loving in the early days. He had read to Severus at night; all of the classic muggle children's stories, had tucked him in to sleep. He had gone to his job at a steelworks in the day and had spent his nights with his family. He was in wonderment of his wife, a witch, in love with her and her accomplishments. But then, he'd been hurt at work, struck in the head by a girder. He'd been sent home, pensioned off, disabled. His mind was not the same again. He was depressed. He took to strong drink. His eyes went bloodshot and his lower lip sagged. He forgot to wash. He had become that Snape.

That Snape wanted his witch wife to use her powers of apparition to enter bank vaults in muggle banks, to steal for him and make him rich. He hated that she wouldn't do it. He questioned her love. As the months with him wore on, Severus saw his mother's face become thin, wan, and gray. Her smile faded to a thin, perfunctory line which couldn't reach her dark, anguished eyes. Twice, she had packed them up and she and Severus had left him, left that other Snape who was such a stranger to them now. Mother and son would go to London, to Diagon Alley, and take the furnished rooms that Mr. Fortescue kept above his ice cream shop. There, Severus and his mother had relaxed, practised magic together, laughed, connected again, regained their strength. Then, she would pack them up and they would go back to that Snape. She always hoped he would be better in time. But he would begin the abuse again before long, and grow worse.

And then came that last night, when that Snape had killed her. He hadn't meant to do it. But she was no less dead for his lack of intentions. Manslaughter, they called it. And he had gone to prison. In prison he had no whiskey, and with a clearer head he had written Severus letters. Through them, Severus remembered the father he'd loved, and came to understand the father whose will and heart had been broken. But he could not bear to visit him. He had never been to the prison. He had never gone to see him, and that Snape had died a prisoner. He would have died anyway, but another inmate helped him along much sooner. Severus had received the attorney's notification letter at the Rosier's, telling him the news, and that he now owned what little his father had left behind. Severus had never told his teachers, but he suspected Dumbledore knew. He seemed to know everything. Severus had tucked the memory of his father into the smallest possible corner of his heart and did his best not to think of him. Every thought of his father caused pain so bittersweet it choked him.

Hermione's sweet face entered his mind. It felt like a cool waterfall after the memories of his father. Severus yearned for her kindness, her courage. It felt as if every cell in his body ached for her, as he had once ached for his mother. But the feeling was sharper, subtly different, because Hermione was his wife. They hadn't declared it, there had been no ceremony. But she was his, his forever. And now she was taken away from him, and soon the only place she would exist at all would be in his own heart. Anything could change if she went back. What if her parents never met? What if she was never born? Dumbledore had taken her away, and Severus knew he was ruined for anyone else. It was Dumbledore's fault, and he would never forgive him. Not as long as he lived, which, he assumed, if he stayed stranded in this forest, wouldn't be more than a week. He decided he didn't care if he died here. It would be fitting. He was so tired of the world and its disappointments. Would it be so bad to leave it?

"Would it? I believe so. What's on the other side of life is far worse." said a voice. Severus caught his breath in surprise, and immediately shut his mind down, hiding his thoughts of Hermione. He wondered if it were Dumbledore, come to fetch him back. He didn't care.

"Don't you?" the voice mused. "How good of you. Dumbledore is hardly worth waiting for."

Severus tensed. The voice did not belong to Dumbledore. It was cool, caressing, unnerving. It hung on the air like a snake's hiss, and felt as manacing. Despite his desire to remain uncaring, the hairs rose on the back of Severus's neck. He heard the owner of the voice cross the small patch of grass and seat himself on the trunk of the fallen tree. Severus felt the hem of a robe touch his cheek, but would not open his eyes.

The man spoke on. "Severus Snape. Are you going to die in this forest? What a loss that would be."

Severus said nothing. Whatever this stranger's reason in harrassing him was, Severus did not care, perhaps he would go away if ignored.

"Not a good plan, young Snape. Ignoring me might be the single greatest mistake you'll make in your short, rather pathetic life."

Severus refused to take the bait. Then he felt a touch, something insinuating itself through strands of his hair, not prodding. It was almost caressing. A wand. "You were thinking of a girl, weren't you? Beautiful, black-haired...her. Her...hmmm. No name but Her?" The stranger chuckled. "Whatever her name, he had no right to take her. You could get her back, you know."

Severus spoke at last. "I can't."

"Perhaps you cannot, but, I can."

"No one can. Go away. Bug off."

"Crucio..." the voice hissed. Severus choked off his involuntary scream as the worst pain he'd ever felt coursed through his body. He was levitated, and left hanging in the air as he writhed. Willing his body to his desires, he stilled its spasms, yet the pain did not diminish. He faced his attacker, and saw only two glowing red eyes in a black hood. The hand wielding the wand was white, the fingers bony and long. Refusing to show his pain, Severus glared down at his opponent.

"Strong child." the wizard remarked. "Very strong. Shall I kill you now?"

"Yes!" Severus growled. "DO it!" And even to his own surprise, he let loose with a bitter laugh.

The hood pleated softly on one side as the stranger regarded Severus anew, his head tipped. Softly, he answered, "No, Not today, I don't think." Severus gasped as the pain instantly stopped, and he was lowered carefully to the ground.

Severus sat up, breathing heavily. "Why not do it? Get it over? What's the point of any of it? May as well be you as does it."

"The point...boy, is that life isn't about kindness, or love. Those are mere distractions. And I have use for you."

"And who says I have any use for you?" Severus snapped.

"If I were you, I'd be careful." the voice no longer held any hint of friendliness, or even mocking. As he spoke, he lowered his hood.

It was then that Severus knew in whose company he was. He was face to face with Lord Voldemort. He'd heard of this great wizard, but always in whispers. It was as if people thought if the man heard his own name, he'd appear, and they feared him. Severus couldn't answer. He only stared.

Lord Voldemort spoke on. "As I said, life holds many things, and most are not pleasant. And those who spend their lives chasing pleasantness, waste their lives. Yours has not been a happy life, young Severus Snape, and the sooner you realise that it's been on the right track all along, the better off you will be. I realised it very early on in my own life, and I am now the greatest sorceror in the world. So, if I were you, I'd be careful."

"How do you know who I am?" Severus asked, still holding his mask of indifference in place, yet his heart was racing. Lord Voldemort!

"You've spent summers with the Rosier family. I hear of you through them. They spend much time boasting to me of their son, but they cannot help but speak of you. Evan has his uses, to be sure, but, he doesn't have your talent. And I could make such good use of your talent, Severus. In return, I could give you back that which you have lost, and give you power you can only imagine now. You hate Dumbledore? Something we have in common. He is a great deceiver, he pretends kindness while he steals what is most precious, keeps it for himself. But I, I could even return 'Her' to you, should you wish it."

Severus's jaw dropped.

"If, that is, we can come to an agreement."

"An agreement." It was not a question. Severus was no man's fool. The great Lord Voldemort was recruiting. And he was being enlisted. And, he knew without a doubt, there could be no refusing the call, whether he wanted to or not.

The thin lips smiled. "Yes. I need eyes and ears at Hogwarts. I need...discretion. Someone who isn't easy to read. Someone who leads, not follows. Someone who can spread my message within the walls, especially in Slytherin House. For change is here, Severus. Not coming...it is here. In me. And much reward will come to those who follow me. You could be near the front of the queue for such rewards."

"I understand."

"Are you sure?" The thin smile came again, though the eyes held no warmth. "I wouldn't kill you if you refused, you know. I'd simply erase myself from your memories, and leave you here to rot. It was, after all, what you seemed to desire."

"When everything you love is gone, what else is there but death?"

"Ah, but you see, there is a great deal more to this life than you may think. And as I said, we could get 'Her' back...in time...if you still wish it."

Severus looked away from Voldemort, lowering his eyes to the ground. Lord Voldemort wanted him, Severus Snape! A slow smile came to him. A spy. He wanted a spy in Hogwarts. Lord Voldemort wanted Severus to be his eyes and ears. Surely there could be no harm, and no real danger, in simply reporting what he would see and hear? And right under Dumbledore's large nose, too! And Her...he stopped his thought. He could, if he wished it, have her back. He wanted her back. What one great wizard took away from him, another could return to him. The greatest reward.

He faced Lord Voldemort. "I accept."

"That is wise. I had heard you were intelligent. Well," he stated as he stood, "You will receive an invitation tomorrow. To a wedding this June, for a dear 'acquaintance' of mine, one Lucius Malfoy. He remembers you. I want you to attend that wedding. There will be many people there who will want to meet you. You will find 'we' are stronger, and larger, than the world yet knows. And you will know you have chosen the right path. You will forget about your own death, Mr. Snape. For death is the province only of the weak, the pathetic, and the powerless. It is not your destiny." The great wizard held out his white hand.

As Severus tried to rise to grasp it, he cried out again in pain. Lord Voldemort flicked his wand but once, and Severus's ankle was healed.

As he took the cold, white hand, Severus muttered, "Thank you, Sir. For that, and more, I suspect."

The great wizard merely nodded, his face once again grave. "Much more. You will soon see how much." And in a flash of green smoke, he was gone.

Severus turned slowly, seeking in the gloom, but he was alone. Hermione. I will have you back. I will have you back, and of course I will still wish it! I will always wish it. And the best way to get you back is to please Lord Voldemort. Severus walked slowly, carefully following the stars through the trees to navigate his way back to Hogwarts. I will have you back, Hermione. Whatever it takes of me. I will do it for you, and punish those who came between us.

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Unbelievably, I wrote a chapter! lol I am determined to finish this!

Feedback can be left here, thanks so much!

My thanks go to Kathleen (ChannelingGinny) for forcefully smacking me around till I finished this poor neglected fic! Please note that there are two chapters posted, as I didn't feel it was fair to leave the final chapter dangling till goodness knew when, so wrote them both together! Thanks to the many kind people who have patiently seen this project through. Whew! I finished it!

Chapter Nineteen--Hermione's Homecoming

It wasn't anything like she had expected. She did not feel as if suffocating blackness closed in upon her; she'd read that that was how apparition felt. It wasn't like vapourising. It wasn't like floating down a rabbit hole. She was no Alice in Wonderland, though she thought she must have felt the same as that ill-fated dreamer. In one moment, she was in a cave in France. In the next, she was falling down the steps at Hogwarts. There wasn't time to tense herself.

Softly, before she had a chance to be injured, she was caught. She breathed a quick sigh of relief as she felt affectionate arms about her. Ah, Severus! Of course you would catch me! She looked up to find his dark eyes, but, instead, the eyes were blue-bright blue. Professor Dumbledore smiled. Hermione did her best to smile back, to not show her disappointment. How many more lines his face had now! How many more worries, perhaps.

"So, Miss Granger. You have come back to us." Professor Dumbledore helped Hermione to attain her balance, and released her. They stood together, halfway up the curving staircase. She could hear other students far down the hallway, approaching. "There isn't much time. First, this." Professor Dumbledore waved his wand over Hermione's head, and she watched in surprise as her black curls went brown and bushy. "We couldn't have you going to class like that, now, could we?" he winked.

"No, Sir, I suppose not." she said faintly. "So...is...?"

"He teaches here, Miss Granger, as you knew he would. Now, you must be going to class, the other students are coming." With a gentle hand at the small of her back, the Headmaster urged her to descend.

When they reached the bottom of the staircase, he whispered, "Say nothing to anyone as yet about what happened to you, Miss Granger, can you promise me that?" Professor Dumbledore's eyes bored into hers, and she felt his tension through his voice.

"Of course I wouldn't Sir, but...Severus..." her voice trailed off as she searched his face. "Why...?"

"He wants to see you. But not here. Not now. Later you must go to his office, after lunch. You have no classes immediately following lunch today. Go to his office then, he'll be waiting."

Quickly, she gave her Headmaster a quick hug that he had no time to react to or avoid. "Thank you, Professor."

Taken by surprise, his cheeks flushed pink, Dumbledore clucked, "Go on now. Behave as if all is normal. Go to your Muggle Studies class--use your Time-Turner now."

Hermione pulled the little golden device from her robes. She watched her Headmaster back away from her, and as she set the time-turner to spinning, he ascended the steps with her, then backed down again, alone, and disappeared down the hallway. She then looked eagerly as her Divination classmates appeared in the travel-haze, hurrying backwards, disappearing up the steps. She saw Parvati and Lavender first, since they had left last. Near the end of the departing (now returning) students she saw Neville, followed by Seamus and Dean. Then Harry. Then Ron. She grinned. All of her favourites out of class as soon as they could get away; so very like them. Then, after a short pause, she saw them backing down the steps and away, down the corridor. She was alone. She ran quickly along the stone hallway, in order to avoid having her classmates see her as they approached for Divination Class. She so wished she could speak to them! How she had missed them all! It hadn't even fully sunk in until she had seen them. Even if Ron and Harry ignored her later--to know that they were well, to know they were safe, to know that the true basics had not changed--it was enough to know that. All of her fellow Gryffindors--she was so relieved to see them and know they were alright.

Severus...oh. Her heart beat faster at the thought of seeing him again. How wonderful that would be...wouldn't it? He would be glad to see her. Wouldn't he? Or would he hate her now? He was no longer the boy of light and dark. He was a man. He was brooding, sullen. He never smiled. Sweet Severus, what happened to you? I must know! And I will, I shall insist on it.

The morning went by in a nervous, jittery jumble. It was agony going back in time, again and again, with the hour following lunch playing like a maddening game of two-steps-forward, one-step-back, always so far out of reach. Hermione found herself struggling to stay on task, and worse, to remember exactly where she was in these classes that she'd neglected for nearly two weeks. Had it only been two weeks? What a lifetime of precious experiences had been tucked into those two weeks. Her stomach was a mass of knots, it was hard to breathe. Tears pricked at her eyes and stung, unshed. Would there be a future worth having now? she thought as she remembered Severus's smile, his soft peach blush. Her breath came out in a shuddering sigh that made Ron glance up at her anxiously from several metres away, then as quickly turn away, feigning indifference. Yes, he notices me, doesn't he? She thought to herself, as a shocking discovery came to her. But not because he hates me. Why could I not see that before? If he didn't care about me, he wouldn't notice me at all. But he always notices me. Always. A small smile played upon her lips as she looked at Ron for what felt like the first time. Because I know now why he notices. He does care about me! Does he, perhaps, even love me? Why could I not see it before? She chuckled softly in gentle understanding and sympathy. Because I didn't know how love felt, or how it looked. And now I do. I'm so sorry, Ron. But I love Severus. How different it might all have been for us, had I never fallen down those steps. Thinking of Ron's awkward moments since she'd come to know him, she shook her head in amused consternation at her own blindness. Is this how adults look back on childhood? she wondered. Do they look back and think to themselves--why did I not see that then?

She felt a nudge at her elbow. "What did Binns say about the Goblin rebellions in Leeds? What year was that? I missed it!" Neville whispered urgently.

"Er...I'm sorry, Neville, I didn't quite catch it either." Carefully ignoring Neville's shocked look, she paged through her book. "Ah. Okay. It was April through July of 1672."

"Thanks Hermione." breathed Neville in relief. "I'm hungry, that's why my mind wandered and I missed it."

"No, you missed it because Professor Binns drones like a beehive." she whispered back, grinning. "It's okay, Neville, you can look at my notes later."

"Thanks Hermione." Neville grinned back.

As the class was packing up to leave, Harry passed Hermione and whispered, "I think I'll have my Firebolt back soon, you know, in time for the match with Ravenclaw this weekend."

"Oh?" she almost squeaked in surprise that Harry had deigned to speak to her. "Well, that's good."

"Yeah. Well. All right then." And with an uncomfortable half-smile, Harry joined Ron on the way out the door. Shaking her head, she gathered her book bag and followed Neville from the classroom and down to the Great Hall for lunch.

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Standing outside the door to Severus's office, Hermione tried to slow her breathing. As she had suspected, he wasn't at the Great Hall during lunch. She'd not eaten much. Mostly she sat by Neville while he copied her notes from History of Magic. Ginny had made a bit of small talk, but when she noticed how preoccupied Hermione was, she'd scooted down the bench to talk with a couple of girls in her own year.

When the other students walked out for the next hour of classes, Hermione had waited until most of them had left before making her way down to the dungeons.

She couldn't slow her breathing. She couldn't stop the trembling. There was nothing for it. All she could do was knock. She knocked.

Nothing.

She tried again, harder this time.

Finally, "Enter."

Just to hear his voice! Her breath came out in a shudder, she didn't even know she'd been holding it. Turning the handle, she went in.

He stood, looking out his only window, which featured a murky view of the lake. He was turned away from her. He stood stiffly, his hands behind his back. Hermione noticed they were clasped so tightly the knuckles were white. The nails were overlong and slightly soiled by potions residue. Still such long fingers, but not beautiful, as they had been.

Hermione stood uncertainly, not sure whether to stand or sit down--not sure whether to call him 'Severus' or 'Sir.' Either might be welcomed. Either might cause offense. She waited.

After a nerve-wracking minute, he spoke the first words. "So. You have come back."

"Um, yes. Sir." she squeaked.

"Safely, I trust." Why did he not turn around?

"As you see." she replied, knowing he did not see. Repressing the urge to clear her throat, she added, "Professor Dumbledore caught me."

"Yes. Of course he would, wouldn't he? Always looking out for you, isn't he? Making sure you do the right thing?" Hermone's eyes narrowed at the sarcasm in Severus's tone and her nervousness faded away in annoyance. She'd come across time to him, and all he could do was be angry with Dumbledore?

"Of course it was the right thing, what I did! I had to!"

"The. Hell. You. Did." Each word came out in a hiss, seething with barely repressed rage.

"Harry and Ron and Ginny would have died if I hadn't!"

"Is that what he told you? That they'd die?"

"Professor Dumbledore never said anything like that! He said no one would know me anymore if I didn't come back! But how would they have survived if I hadn't helped?"

"How, indeed, Miss Granger?" he snarled. Still, he had not looked at her. "How indeed. Well, let's just ponder, for academic reasons, the possibility that, had you not worked out the purpose of the Philosopher's Stone, no one at all would have gone to find it in the dungeons? None of you, at any rate. And the Dark Lord would not have been able to procure it on his own. So, you didn't need to be there. There would not have been any danger to Potter, but for your interference."

"But, but..." Hermione stammered, then grew silent as the realisation of what he'd said sunk in. Harry and Ron would never have known anything about the Stone, and would never have been in danger. They hadn't needed her at all!

"Still..."she continued, desperately, "What about the Chamber of Secrets? What about that? Ginny would have died if I hadn't helped!"

"You could have left a note for Dumbledore before we went away." Severus whispered. Hermione gasped. His voice had changed. He sounded...seventeen, again. Lonely, desperately sad. All the meaness was gone. "He would have had advanced warning. Of everything. The Chamber. Ginny. Potter's Parseltongue. All of it."

"But..." she began again, but then words failed her. Hermione felt a lump in her throat as the truth of his words hit her. Of course he was right. How short-sighted she had been! Her hands flew to her mouth in dismay as tears filled her eyes. "I...I should have stayed. I should have stayed!" she cried, her voice breaking. She sank to her knees on the cold stone floor."I should have stayed. Severus!" she cried, oblivious to his age and status now."I could go back! I could! It's not too late!"

"No." was all he had to offer.

"What do you mean? You...you don't want me to?"

"No, I do not. It's too late for that now. Things must go forward from here."

"No!" she jumped up and went to him, throwing her arms around him, resting her head against his back. She then felt his violent trembling, which had been hidden by his voluminous robes. He did not try to throw her off, though he quickly pulled his hands to the front. "It's not too late to go back! Or, if it is," she crooned, "Then I'll soon grow up. We can still..."

"No." he said. "Feelings change. It's been nineteen years."

Gulping, she slowly released him and began to back away. He didn't want her anymore. Not now, not in the past. He didn't love her anymore. He didn't love anyone. "It's been nineteen hours!" she wailed, and ran for the door.

He was to her in a flash, catching her wrist. "No, Hermione, don't go. Don't go." And then he clasped her to him. Sobbing, she clung to him. He picked her up and cradled her like a child. How comforting he was, he had not changed. He always would take care of her!

Carrying her to another door, he kicked it open and brought her to his private chamber. How cold and damp it was! But Hermione could not feel it. She only felt Severus's arms and his warm neck as she nuzzled her face into it, weeping on his collar. He set her down on an old sofa and sat next to her. Through the sheen of her tears, she sought his face. It was so lined now, so sallow. But his dark eyes were no longer blank, hard walls. They burned, and they melted her. Leaning back, he gently stroked her cheek. "So soft." She caught his hand in hers and kissed it.

Looking up again, she choked, "Why can't I go back? We could leave, we could start again."

"Hermione." he said her name softly, as if caressing each syllable with his tongue. "We cannot go back because the past should stay in the past. And, how are we to know what the future will bring? The future from now? We don't know that. I...I am sorry. As I recall, you were given no time to think things through. And for all we know, you are still needed here. This is your time to be young."

"But...why? You don't want me now?"

The faintest hint of a smile touched his lips, and faded. "No, that's not it. You would not want me now."

"But you know I do! Nothing can change that, not ever! The spell...you know you're the one for me."

"Not anymore."

"Please..."

"Hermione." He took her hands in one of his and pressed them to his heart. "I say this now to you, I do this, because it is the last time I can. Hermione..." he breathed, leaning over and softly kissing her forehead, "You are my world." Kissing her right cheek, he whispered, "I love you." Kissing her left cheek, he whispered, "I always will."

She trembled, her eyes closed in bliss and relief, waiting for his kiss on her mouth.

"Hermione..." she felt his breath on her lips, and a light tap where his first kiss had left its heat. "Obliviate."




Chapter Twenty--Severus's Shadow

"Miss Granger, once and for all, there are no further opportunities for extra credit in my class! You may go." Severus watched her closely from under his fringe of black hair as he pretended to write. He saw he come out of her trance and look at him uncertainly, blinking.

"Sir?"

Keeping his face blank, he looked up. "You may go."

"Oh! Well, yes. Sorry." she murmured, and backed to the office door. Stumbling slightly as she pulled it open, she gave him one last, curious look before pulling it closed.

Alone, Severus gave a long, heaving breath, his face in his hands. Now that the confrontation was over, his shaking had come back. He must get under control! Standing, he paced around the room, trying to calm his shattered nerves.

When she had looked at him with love, his reaction had taken him by surprise. He hadn't planned on that. He was sure he would never see it again. Once he had let her see him, how old and terrible he was now, she would have recoiled in horror. But she hadn't. She had been his Hermione...loving, strong, and willful. His. However much he may have changed, she had not. Of course not. She'd had no time. He hadn't been able to resist her. To see that look of love in her dark eyes...like seeing an angel's face after nearly two decades in Hell...

Striding resolutely to the office door, he flung it open and took to the halls, his thoughts racing, oblivious to the startled students pressing back against the walls to let him pass.

She had almost made him succumb. But if he kept her as she was...no. He never would have, never could have. Whatever he felt, it was the wrong way to feel. Nothing had changed, for either of them. If he had kept her, she would have found out what he'd done. And her love would have turned to hatred, and he couldn't have borne it. If he had kept her as she was, it was doubtful she would survive to womanhood. The Dark Lord would have seen to that. It was entirely hopeless. He had done the only thing he could do to keep her safe. She could never remember she had loved him. He was as dangerous to her now as that fool Potter was.

As he climbed steps and stormed down halls, he thought of Potter and his rage curdled. How he hated that boy! So arrogant, like his git of a father, always so cocky and sure of himself. And every step he took, every idea he got in his foolish head, endangered her. The very fact that the Dark Lord wanted him was a danger to her. The fact that Sirius Black, that crazed murderer, was also now hunting him, made things even worse. How Severus had wished the hat had followed its first inclination and put the boy in Slytherin! He, Severus, could have guarded the child, and he would never have been let near enough to Hermione to ever become her friend. Of all the friends she could have acquired, it had to be the most dangerous, stupid child in the school!

Reaching the seventh floor at last, he paced three times in front of the blank wall, and his old door appeared. He hadn't seen this door in years. He turned the knob, and entered.

The room was as it had been nearly twenty years ago, just as he had left it. A fire burned merrily in the large fireplace. The green velvet sofa was as inviting. But he ignored them. He moved instead to the table, upon which rested a small, old book. Gently opening it, he ran his forefinger along the page that it opened to most easily--Hermione's spell, marked by the long-ago, desperate note he had written her after his interrogation with Dumbledore, begging her to be with him. He held the book to his face, breathing deeply. It still smelled of her. The whole room greedily held onto the scent of her, sweet with promises of bliss. His trembling eased as the memories of the room flooded back to him--memories that he'd repressed for so long..until she had come to Hogwarts. Sitting in one of the wooden chairs, he rested his head on his arms, and let himself remember.

She had been so small, so exquisitly small, like a tiny doll, her first day. Two large, frightened eyes under a mop of bushy hair. What a beautiful child she was! So innocent. So eager for it all. How his heart had pounded to see her coming down between the rows of tables with all the little first years. He had caught himself sighing as she was placed in Gryffindor, as he knew she would be. But when Potter was placed there as well, especially after he had heard the boy argue with the hat, that had infuriated him. For two precious months, he had noticed with relief that they kept their distance from one another. But then Quirrel had let in that mountain troll, and it had all gone to hell. From then on, Potter rarely left Hermione's side. Every time Potter got an idea into his head, he would involve her in his own stupid follies. Straightening up, he almost chuckled. No. He couldn't blame the boy for that, not entirely. Hermione also had a knack for getting into dangerous situations. She'd suspected her potions professor of many ill deeds that first year, that was certain. It had pierced his heart to see that suspicious look in her unknowing eyes. But she was right to have that look. He had deserved it. Her accusing eyes might as well have been blaming him for ruining their future through his fateful pact with Lord Voldemort.

But it wasn't just the pact. He was now too important to the Order to change the past. He had to remain as he was--Dumbledore's spy. It might mean all the difference for Hermione's future. Going back to the past was too dangerous. He rubbed his temples. He had stopped trying to riddle out the cosmic ironies of the Time-Turner's possibilities long ago--it was futile, and it only gave him a sick headache.

Standing, he reached into his breast pocket for the object he had retrieved from Hermione's robes while she was still in her trance. It was a small Edelweiss flower, fading fast now. Turning back to the book, he pressed the flower between its pages, closing it next to the spell it had been used for.

The spell was correct, Hermione. As was my ring. He took it out and wrapped its chain twice around the book, pressing it closed, then magically sealing it. But none of that matters now. For I've ruined it for both of us.That's why it is too late. What's done is done. Though, how tempted I was by your entreaties! You will never know. You will never know...anything. And you will be safe from the Dark Lord's mind. But, what richness I have stolen from you! And from myself.

Passing around the sofa, he held the book to the fire. It had to be burnt. No evidence should remain, not even in here. But he found he could not do it. These little mementoes, they would be all that would remain of the best, sweetest part of his life. He couldn't bear it. Sitting down dejectedly on the sofa, he held the book in his hands. And a thought came to him. He would hide it in the large Room of Requirement, the room where thousands of things were hidden! There were stacks upon stacks of books there. It wouldn't be found till they were both dead and gone, and what would it matter then if anyone ever pieced anything together? In death their secret would be safe.

He went to the stained glass window, and pulled it open. He could see his House, Slytherin, practising on the pitch. Their world was returned to normal. The children of Hogwarts had their resident bookworm back--Hermione as she had always been, oblivious of any other future. The last protection was soon to come. In a few minutes, Severus would descend to the Headmaster's office, where his own memories would be significantly modified. They had worked it all out in advance. Severus would let go of all romantic memories of Hermione, her presence in his youthful past would be erased.

New memories of love would be inserted in their place--memories of another girl--one that the Dark Lord could no longer harm, because he had already killed her. Lily Evans. It was fitting, considering how he played a large part in ensuring her death. He would trade one lifetime of painful memories of loss and regret for another. As long as the impetus to rid the world of the Dark Lord remained, and Hermione was kept safe, it was a miniscule price to pay.

He would hide the book, then go and part with the best memories of his life, and it would be worth it for what he would gain. At least, he hoped it would. Fancy that, Snape, he wryly said to himself. You, hoping?

Severus closed the window, and stepped back...into the shadows.

THE END

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