***Chapter One***
May 1998

She sat in the corner of their virtually pitch black bedroom, knees gathered to her. A room that looked virtually the same as the last time she'd been here. Not that she dared turn on a light or cast a lumos to see it. It just felt and smelled the same.

No surprise it did, though. She'd just been here a couple of weeks ago.

Except, it shouldn't look the same.

Its master was dead. Muggle home or not, he was still its master. Didn't it know? Didn't it mourn the loss of him? Someone or something else besides her had to miss him!

She had to look a fright, as she hadn't dared bathe or anything, not wanting to be caught in a defenseless position. So it was a good thing that no one knew about his house to come looking for her: friend or foe. Not that anyone would know she was here. She fled here from Hogwarts. Once Harry had been killed by Voldemort, there was no way the death eaters were going to engage Hermione Granger in battle.

They wouldn't kill her either.

No, they would kidnap her. They would torture her. They would likely do things to her that would taint the images she had of sex with Severus and turn it into something horrific.

They might be able to break her occlumency barriers and learn about him. That he'd been a member of the Order all along. That thought might just be worse to her, only because he worked so long and so hard to be a successful spy. Not that it would matter, really. He was already dead. Gone.

She never thought that would happen. He wanted to live. She knew he did. He was such a gifted wizard. She truly hadn't believed anyone could best him.

One thing she did know, he would not want that end for her.

So, she'd done the only thing she could do.

She'd cast a hasty disillusionment spell over herself and fled when she realized that not only had Harry and Severus (they weren't the only ones) perished but Voldemort hadn't. Cowardly? Maybe. She didn't think so, though, because she had lived to see another day. To try again. To come up with a plan.

As far as she knew, no one had a plan for what to do if Voldemort survived and Harry did not. Or if Voldemort just survived. Did the headmaster have a plan for that? Severus never mentioned anything like that to her, and she was pretty sure he would have said something so she'd be aware of a backup plan being in place.

She knew she wasn't the only one to survive. She didn't know the names of all the dead, but she would not allow herself to believe the Order had been completely defeated.

Her wand was clutched in her hand but she was so stunned at what happened, what she'd seen, that she wasn't sure she was strong enough mentally or physically to use it even if she had to right now.

Of course she would because, if nothing else, he would want her to live, even in a world without him. It was him, his wishes that she survive, even if he didn't, that made her leave Hogwarts toward the end of the battle after realizing Severus and Harry were both gone.

Being captured would not help anyone else. The thought of Anton Dolohov getting his hands on her made her shudder. There were likely others who would not make her being a prisoner pleasant.

Being able to navigate the muggle world and knowing that she could live without the use of magic if she had to. Well, she thought she had a better chance of ascertaining things and coming up with a plan … with whoever from the Order was left than most..

Waiting.

Waiting.

It was worse than the boogeyman or the monster under the bed.

Voldemort was real. And she knew what he was capable of.

Her dad wasn't going to come in here today and tell her the monsters didn't exist. He couldn't do that anymore anyway. She'd seen monsters.

Severus assured her more than once that no one alive knew the whereabouts of their home. She believed him, he wouldn't lie to her. However, she knew with Harry gone and Voldemort running amok, she was going to be tops on the death eaters' lists to capture.

They wouldn't care about Ron, not really. No. Yes, he was part of a family deemed as blood traitors, but, no, they wouldn't focus on him.

It would be her they'd want.

Damn people touting her as the cleverest witch of her age.

She would never damn becoming Harry's friend.

She made a quick list.

No apparition. No use of magic. Nothing that they could even possibly trace to her signature.

Thank God the appliances and everything here were muggle, so she could function without using any magic. She knew where the stores were around, too, so she could walk to get food.

She rubbed her thumb over the soul mark on her finger, sobbing over the fact that it looked no different than it had six hours ago.

Shouldn't it fade? Or do something to show that he was gone? She didn't want it to, certainly not. Her soul mate was no longer alive, though, there should be some sign of that. She didn't feel any different, but she knew that she wasn't ever going to find someone else to come close to completing her. How could she possibly?

Oh, she wasn't one of those women who believed she needed a man to be complete. She knew, though, that like her mom and dad or Arthur and Molly Weasley, a good man and a good woman could complete, complement, each other. Whoever marked her for Severus knew he was that for her, and she for him.

They fit in an unexpected way.

She wasn't sure how much time went by. It could have been hours or days. She was pretty sure she dozed on and off, but not for very long. Any sound outside made her jerk to attention. She did know it wasn't more than days. Eventually, she realized that he had been right about his house.

No one was coming.

She was truly safe here.

For now.

She believed him. She didn't think he would lie about such a thing, but she just wasn't sure if someone had found out where he'd lived somehow. Or if in the past few days, someone would think to look for a way to find out where he lived. There had to be records, somewhere. Though, he was a very thorough man, so maybe he took care of those, too. She should have thought to ask, but it never occurred to her she might need to know that.

She had no doubt that one misstep on her part and her safety here would change. Fortunately, she was familiar enough with Cokeworth by now to know where to go. And where not to go. As well as the times she could do it without attracting attention to herself and not being out among too many (or too few) people at the same time. She truly doubted Voldemort would look for her here, unless he somehow found out about them.

Her bum was asleep when she finally moved to stand from the corner, crawling into their bed. That was probably a mistake because it smelled like him. The whole room did, but the pillows in particular. She almost drew the covers around her with magic, but stopped herself at the last minute. Odd how easily it was to fall into the habit of doing little things the magical way without even realizing she'd done so.

She was starving and filthy, but this need outweighed the others.

Rest.

She could wash the sheets later.

Time to collect her thoughts now that she knew she was safe and could come up with a plan.

She knew she wouldn't sleep very well, but hoped his scent would fool her into getting some rest. 

She needed it. She'd been up for days even before coming back to the house. She'd have one ear listening for any sound to indicate someone was coming in. She didn't want to cast any spells herself, so had to count on the wards he'd set to be enough. They had to be because, if nothing else, he would want her protected. He'd have to at least entertain the notion she'd return here if things went pear shaped, as they had.

For now, though, she'd collect herself before deciding what to do and where to go. As much as she might like to, she couldn't stay here. It was a good safe house, but a safe house wouldn't remain that if she stayed here long-term.

She'd have to come up with a plan.

x.x.x.

It took her a week to get her wits about her. She would ordinarily be ashamed that it took her so long, but she'd lost her soul mate and her best friend in a matter of minutes. She was in fear for her life, no matter how safe she felt here. The world she'd come to accept and love was in peril.

Those were the excuses she gave for having taken so long for her to think rationally. Even the brightest witch of her age was entitled to one blunder.

Of course she probably wouldn't have even been willing to try to get into Hogwarts before now anyway. She had to get to his lab, though. She should have had him leave the key with her, but she wasn't sure he truly believed Voldemort would win.

She hadn't either for that matter.

Showed what two of the brightest of the wizarding world knew.

She also realized that there'd been times while she was with Harry and Ron the past nine months that she could have lost the key if he had given it to her. Or someone like Bellatrix could have taken it from her, thinking it was something that it wasn't.

It was safest where it was. No one would think he left anything behind there. She just had to get it! That was not safe, which pointed to the fact he truly did not think they'd lose. If he had, he would have left it somewhere else.

She made her way to the Forbidden Forest in her wolf form, not surprised when Firenze spotted her and offered himself as an escort. He nodded, brushing a hoof against the ground and she nodded in acknowledgement. She felt a wave of magic wash over her and suspected he'd cast a disillusionment spell on her.

She gave a soft yip in acknowledgement and thanks.

She knew somehow that he would be waiting until she came back out.

She didn't look as she trotted across the grounds. She couldn't. Seeing Hogwarts in chaos would break her heart even more. So she stayed focused on the reason she was here.

She had to get to Severus' lab.

She found the entrance Severus had shown her. It, thankfully, wasn't far from his lab, so she only had a short way to go. She certainly felt better doing this disillusioned. (She'd been a little concerned the wards wouldn't recognize someone was there, but he must have keyed them to her magic. Disillusioned or not, her magic was still here.) She wasn't sure who was in charge at Hogwarts right now, but she did not want to get caught. Chances were they weren't an improvement over what Severus told her about the Carrows.

Just his stories about the brother and sister made her sick. It made her sick for the students, but also for him. He had to stand back and let them do things he thought vile and cruel in the name of winning the war. She knew it plagued him until the end that he'd had to allow anything like their preferred methods of discipline to happen.

And pretend to endorse it.

And they hadn't even won! As far as she could tell, no one was aware Severus was a spy for the Order. They thought he was evil!

She ran a fingertip over the note she'd left him almost a year ago with the list of potions she'd taken from him after Dumbledore's funeral. Had he read it? It seemed as if he had because it was worn. She took solace in the idea that something as simple as her note might have offered him comfort and strength while he was here.

Only a year ago.

So much had happened since then.

She'd fallen in love with him since then. She'd seen a side to him no one else ever had, or would.

She'd made him want to at least try to live through the war.

She shuddered, but fought back the tears. She wouldn't do him or the Order any good getting emotional right now. She had to get the key and get out. She had to see what he'd left for her. Though she already had an idea what it was. He'd told her, whether he realized it or meant to at the time, she didn't know.

She had to go back and change it. Fix it.

He was counting on her to do that. Not even for his benefit, the possibility of saving him. No, that wouldn't be her mate's priority. Saving the magical world would be. He would want this world to thrive. And if their attempts to stop Voldemort the second time didn't work (as they obviously didn't), he would want her to go back and stop him for good the first time.

The pewter cauldron he'd referenced was where she remembered it, so she easily found the key he'd left for her on the bottom of it. He had truly thought of everything.

She looked around, stifling a sob at the realization that this wasn't his lab any longer. He'd never come back. He'd never make magic here again. New students wouldn't get his speech.

She was lucky the wards - his wards - still recognized her. Further proof whoever was in charge didn't know about them, didn't know he had someone.

She likely wouldn't ever be back either. It was risky enough coming here once. She looked through the lab, ensuring she had everything she needed. That he hadn't left anything out for her. She took a moment to replenish a few potions she knew she'd used since her last visit to his house so he could give them to her.

She could not come back.

She ensured everything was as she found it upon coming in here. It would not do to let anyone know someone had been here. Assured she had everything and hadn't left anything behind, she returned to her wolf form after that thought so she could leave.

"I am sorry for the loss of your mate," Firenze said when they were to a point in the Forbidden Forest where they wouldn't be discovered. She transfigured back into her human form, regarding the Centaur who had been her professor, albeit briefly.

"Thank you."

"I know that you have a journey you must embark on by yourself now. I wish you well. For all our sakes," he said.

She nodded simply. It wasn't just her life at risk by Voldemort being in charge. She knew that, and she was contemplating doing this for them not for herself. She had to fix it.

"I can't believe he won," she said simply.

"You have the ability to change it." It was a statement, but there was a question behind it.

"I think so."

"Then you must."

She nodded. She knew, of course, she did. Young Severus worried her though. When to go. Where to go. She'd heard enough stories, from him, and from others, to know he wasn't ever the most pleasant person.

"What if he doesn't believe me?"

The Centaur's lips quivered into a smirk then and Hermione took a deep breath. He couldn't advise her in this. She thought Divination was a load of rubbish, but she couldn't deny this man (and the Centaurs in general) seemed to have some sort of gift. A lot of help he was!

"You will figure it out. I wish you luck, Hermione Snape."

She shook her head, wanting to correct her name but she couldn't bring herself to do it. For a little while, sure, she'd let herself be Hermione Snape.

"Thank you," she said, bowing her head politely before transfiguring back into her wolf form. She knew he'd ensure she got away from the Forest and Hogwarts grounds safely.

x.x.x.

She met with his solicitor who had the squib investigator he used go to the Ministry and get a document Hermione hadn't even realized existed showing that Hermione and Severus were married. Firenze's calling her Snape not Granger made much more sense with that information. Who knew accepting their bond resulted in that? Had Severus? Doubtful, as so little was known about soul marks.

Regardless, she had the document in case she needed it for anything. Now.

Or then.

He had given his solicitor very detailed instructions, so between the two of them they'd thought of everything.  Things she wouldn't have thought of, as she'd never had to truly deal with these types of things. Sure, she had a grandfather who had passed away, but she hadn't been involved with any of the things that came as a result of one's death.

She was able to go to his bank and get a set of documents from his safety deposit box. She also withdrew the money from his account while she was there. She would hopefully be able to repay him, but she needed to be sure she had enough for a good amount of time. She had no idea how long she'd be gone.

Or if she'd be able to get back.

If she succeeded in changing things, she wouldn't have a here to come back to. It'd be different, so leaving the money here would do no good. So, she had to be prepared to be gone forever. He would tell her to take it, that it was hers.

She'd done enough research to know the galleon hadn't changed in years, so she'd be fine with the ones the investigator got for her at Gringotts. It was good for a couple of reasons the squib was willing to do that bit of business for her. She couldn't get caught in Gringotts again. She wasn't sure if Voldemort or the goblins would be worse for her to get caught by right now.

Getting caught by either was not an option!

She spent the next few days getting ready. Part of getting ready was going through the house to ensure no evidence of her, of them - of anything really - remained. With the time turner, he'd left a note. She started crying again seeing his handwriting, knowing she'd never see her Severus' again. No matter what happened on this journey of hers, he wouldn't be the same Severus as the one she'd spent almost two years getting to know. Knowing her earlier than he originally did could even change something as simple as his handwriting.

My Witch:

Where to even begin.

First I want to assure you that I am writing this missive as a precaution not as an expected need. I truly hope to see you on the other side of whatever is coming. And I know it's coming, as I'm sure you do as well. I told you that I wanted to live and I meant that. And I thank you for the gift of getting an idea of the life I might want to live.

If you've sought out the time turner it can only mean one thing: The Dark Lord has prevailed.

Two things I suppose, the other being that I did not make it.

I know you would not seek it out only for me, because that would be risking too much and I am not the wizard to do that for.

So if the Dark Lord did not prevail and you are reading this because I am gone: don't do it, Hermione. 

Let me repeat that.

Do not do it, Hermione.

I am not worth the risk of so many things changing. And we both know just how many things already went into all of this. One thing being altered could be catastrophic.

That being said as I am, obviously, not in a position to stop you: Easter 1981 would be the best time to arrive. I will, miserably, be at home after having just completed my apprenticeship. I will have already agreed to work at Hogwarts in the fall, which means I am, at that point, Dumbledore's stooge. The Dark Lord, of course, believes I'm working as his spy to collect information on Dumbledore. We cannot risk you being seen at Hogwarts by those who will see you later, specifically Albus and Minerva. As much as I'd like to tell you to go back earlier than this timeframe, we cannot risk altering too much. Again, too many variables have been in play for decades.

1981 is a safe time.

And truthfully, as your mate, I'm not sure I want you to meet me much before the point I'm recommending.

I fear your reproach, and your rejection, if you see just how truly unkind, uncaring, and unfeeling I was. I could not bear to see that in your eyes, so I implore you to please cater to my wish on this.

Aside from that fear, in reality much earlier would not be wise.

My not becoming a death eater could alter too much.

There may be no spy!

I took the Dark Mark before I heard the prophecy, so I cannot tell you to go back then and prevent me from telling Voldemort about it. Prior to my taking the Dark Mark, I'm not sure that the equivalent of the size of Mount Everest's worth of proof of what you're telling me is fact would make me believe it.

I've thought long and hard on this. There is just too much at stake if we (you) are taking this route. We cannot risk something bad happening to either of us, but especially you. I want you to live, Hermione Granger. I want you to live well.

As it stands, as much as I hate to admit it. My not overhearing the prophecy and reporting it to the Dark Lord could alter too much. More than just the fate of the Potters.

Easter would also give us time to get your task accomplished before the school year begins. I couldn't aid you in getting to the items until after my apprenticeship, or I'd have no job at Hogwarts to go to in 1981. So, if you arrive earlier than my suggested weekend, you would be there for too long. That could lead to questions neither of us want to answer.

So, yes, every other time I thought of had a reason not to. So Easter weekend 1981 it is.

Hermione, you must not tell anyone, even me, what ultimately happens. What that catalyst is that results in his (hopeful) complete defeat or why these things must be found and destroyed. I know it's in you to want to change it, but it cannot be changed. It has to happen. If it does not, the Dark Lord will not be defeated and your efforts will then be pointless. Remember, that is our ultimate goal. The Dark Lord's defeat. Keep your eye on that.

If you must, explain it to my younger self that I liken it to how Doctor Who describes a temporal nexus, a fixed point in time that cannot be changed or the consequences could be dire. I should accept that, as my studies of time travel began when I was an imaginative boy with time on my hands and watched The Doctor's adventures. (No pun intended.)

Once those events unfold, use that knowledge and passion of yours to ensure that those affected lives are changed for the better. They deserve that much.

I wish I could write how deeply I regret getting the Mark. I know you are aware that I do, and have for most of the time I've had it. However, it led me to this point, with you in my life. If I hadn't taken it, I wouldn't have sought employment at Hogwarts on my own. Having a witch choose to bond with me not knowing if that means she may never be happy with another wizard is truly humbling. To have a soul mate and having her agree to bond with me despite my past misdeeds was not something I considered, even after you'd arrived at Hogwarts and I knew my mate was there.

You have shown me that it's possible to be the most intelligent person in the room yet be understanding and accepting of others' inexperience and flaws. (Though I admit your insufferable hand-waving was tedious at first. I understand now that it wasn't you trying to show off your intelligence as I originally thought but, instead, your need to prove that you belonged in this world. And let me assure you, Hermione Jean Granger Snape, you belong in whichever world you choose to call yours.) I've never known loyalty or compassion, not truly, until you.

Everything I did leading up to the day I gave you that copy of The Crucible brought me to you. Led to my not wanting to just roll over and die.

How can I regret that?

I have little good or positive to say about my life.

You.

You, Hermione, are the sum total of good and positive things I can recount about my life. Not much of a legacy for a successful spy to lay claim to, but there it is. (I suppose if you're reading this, the successful part may no longer hold true.)

I can truly care less if I'm remembered by others, if my efforts are talked about or added to your precious Hogwarts: A History . I would like, though, to be remembered by you for the potential wizard I could have been, had things gone differently. I would have liked to see that wizard, one who not only loved but was loved in return by the one I was destined to grow old with, if I had chosen a different path when I was your age or younger than you are currently.

When I decided to use the time turner, my reasons were purely selfish.

I wanted you to trust me, to believe in me. I wanted something for me because Albus was asking me to do the unthinkable. It was foolish and selfish. It was all about me, what I wanted. Somewhere along the line, though, it was you who got me to trust and believe in you. I'd never had that experience before, and I cherish it.

I am humbled and will forever remain so.

On to more practical things.

Be sure you have appropriate wizarding clothes in addition to whatever muggle clothing you plan to travel in. And by appropriate, my witch, I mean something you could meet Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy while wearing. You will not help your efforts (or mine) if those closest to me believe you are unworthy.

The ring next to the time turner is for you. Bring it with you. Wear it. It will offer further credibility to whatever tale you weave in your attempt at convincing me you are meant to be my witch and I created the time turner you are using to correct this evilness from taking power. It will also convince my mother that you are not a harlot set to abscond with her only son. I'd like to think that she'd care of such a thing happening, but I truly can't say she would, I guess.

There is also a necklace in a box the ring is sitting on. It was my mothers. She wore it every day for as long as I can remember. I do not believe my father gave it to her, but other than that suspicion have no idea where it came from. It's not overly valuable, but I like to think my mother would like you and want her daughter-in-law to have it. I almost threw it away when I cleaned out her things after her death. Something made me hold onto it, though. I like to think that you, the idea of you, was that something so you were meant to have it.

Remember, my Basil, the marks cannot lie.

Speaking of basil, and the journey you may envision for us, please look in the bigger box the ring and necklace were placed upon. There should be some items you will find, dare I say without sounding too proud of myself, useful. Take all of them as I cannot recall how convenient basilisk venom was to get in 1981, nor do I know if just the venom would work, or if it has to be the fang itself for your purposes. Perhaps we can experiment with that, my younger self will no doubt have ideas on the subject.

Though with your ability to create bluebell flames, it may be fun to watch you cast Fiendfyre, and watch the items burn. Young me wouldn't appreciate that as much as this me, but if you go that route, please tell him to enjoy the show for me. I know forty year old me would be impressed, I can assure you seventeen year old me would be even moreso, especially if you did it wandlessly. (How you can do that can be our secret if you wish it to be. I certainly won't tell.)

I can only apologize that it took me so long to recall we had the ability to destroy that locket you and Mssers Potter and Weasley carried for so long in our midst all along. I will carry that guilt with me into what afterlife awaits me, knowing that your torture and suffering may have been prevented if I'd thought outside of the box Dumbledore drew around things.

One last thing, Hermione, I love you, and am only sorry Albus never got his wish to look upon our children. I'd looked forward to that, truthfully. Our children would be forces to be reckoned with. Mayhaps that's something my younger self will be able to experience. Know that I do not begrudge you, or him, the opportunity to do so. He is me, after all. Even if he will never truly know how amazing of a witch you are.

For a man who until two years ago presumed he'd die alone with nothing and no one to leave his meager belongings to, to think such things is rather humbling. You have made me a rich wizard indeed and as insulting as it may seem to say so: I thank you.

Be well and be safe. I don't need to remind you that, as of right now, YOU are the savior of the wizarding world so be careful.

Your Mare always,

SS

"Oh you clever, maddening, loveable man," she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks and eyes once she finished reading it through twice.

She looked to her left and spotted the ring and small box with a larger box under it he mentioned. The larger box contained, what she presumed anyway, was the rest of the basilisk fangs from the Chamber of Secrets. He must have harvested them.

Of course he would have. He wouldn't have let such a rare thing go to waste.

Also in the box, separate, as if he wanted to protect it but didn't want to leave too many things for her in different places, was the time turner.

He'd shown her how to use it. She'd activated it and gone back and forth a few minutes at first. Here at his home. She'd gone from the house to her house and back. She'd even gone to the Dursleys and back once. Eventually, they'd added her going back in more substantial increments. She didn't do anything. She would arrive, usually at her parent's home in the past on a weekday when she knew both she and her parents were not at home, take a few minutes to recover and return to her time.

Ultimately, it wasn't that different than apparating and they both felt she was capable enough with the device. This trip was totally different, but she really had no choice. She had to destroy those horcruxes, and if she was going to go back in time anyway. He knew as well as she did that she was going to look for him.

She regarded the ring in question. It was obviously old. The stone looked like an emerald in her woefully uneducated knowledge on such things. Large with diamonds surrounding it. Good lord. Did people actually wear things like this? She'd be afraid she would lose it! It had to be something his mother had, because she didn't get the impression his father had been able to afford things like this. (Or that he would have spent money on such a thing if he could.)

She slid it onto her left ring finger, felt the magic course through it and knew it had to be a Prince heirloom. It looked … nice on her, despite her not feeling comfortable wearing it. As if it was made for her, which obviously by it being old couldn't be the case.

She regarded the basilisk fangs with a sob. To think he'd gone down to the Chamber to get them. What else was down there? Somehow she didn't think there had just been a snake and only that. He made it out, though, so obviously he survived.

She set the box with the fangs aside and summoned the inventory she kept a running tally of while on the run of everything she had in her bag. She would add the box, without the time turner in it, in a moment. She went through it, crossing things off the list she felt she would no longer need.

She drove to a park near her grandparents' house late one night and put the tent up so that she could go through it. Thank God Severus still had his parents' car and kept everything current on it so that she could use it instead of apparating to get places that were somewhat of a distance. She didn't even want to take the chance of doing so anywhere near his home. She wasn't sure who was watching or monitoring magical use these days.

She debated about bringing the tent along, but thought it would be a good thing to have, just in case. She went through it, storing things that had been Ronald or Harry's in her grandparents' garage. The house was empty, so no one was going to wonder where these new items came from. She just didn't want to leave them at Severus' house. Just in case.

She threw a lot of food stuffs away that had been in there for months. She would have to replenish them, though. Things like jerky, granola bars, dried fruit, and peanuts, that, while not a full meal, could be filling.

She took the opportunity before leaving her grandparents' house to create an undetectable extension charm on Harry's school bag. This was in the event he told her to get lost, she'd still give the things she put in it to him. She imagined the Severus she was about to meet was perhaps a bit … down on himself. She got more than just a little teary as she created the charm on it. When she finished, she brought it to her chest and hugged it. If everything worked out the way it was supposed to, Harry Potter would not die in May 1998.

She returned to his house when she finished that night's excursion.

Her documents, their marriage document, and their notebooks.

Before he died, Harry had spotted Severus' on his desk after viewing his memories, recognizing it matched the one he'd seen her writing in so often, he paused to look at it. Professor Dumbledore suggested he bring it to her so that it wouldn't be found with his effects. Hermione wasn't sure she believed that was all Professor Dumbledore cared about, but she'd gladly taken the notebook.

That was the last conversation she'd had with Harry Potter. He hadn't said anything, but he knew that there was something behind them having matching notebooks. Harry frustrated her at times, but he wasn't a nitwit.

Back at Severus' house, she looked at things from his perspective (tried to), adding some books and a few personal items that she thought he might want. Or that would add credence to her story. Both was good, too. Some things went into the bag she'd designated for him, some went into her bag. Hopefully, she'd be able to sort it all out later.

That done, she went through the house to clean everything she could. Pointless, perhaps, but it gave her time to think about what exactly she was going to say to a twenty-one year old Severus Snape.

She truly had no idea.

He'd already been hurt by Lily Evans at the time he was suggesting she go back. He already heard the prophecy and reported it to Voldemort. He evidently had already been hired to teach potions at Hogwarts for the upcoming school year by the time he suggested she go.

So he was already a spy. For how long, she wasn't entirely sure. It was one thing that they hadn't spoken much about. It was a time he wasn't proud of, so he didn't offer up much and she didn't push not wanting to upset him when they were both stressed and exhausted. She just knew that he was already acting as a spy at the time he started teaching at Hogwarts.

Had he suggested 1981 versus sometime earlier because in 1981 Lily had a newborn Harry? Would he not want to choose between her and Lily?

She shook her head, dismissing that thought.

The marks would not lie. The fact hers was visible would not lie.

She would do whatever it took to get him to believe.

Cleaning the house one final time also enabled her to see things she wouldn't have otherwise.

A baby photo, obviously Severus since he had no siblings. It could be a cousin, she supposed, but he'd never spoken of any family, and she hadn't found any evidence of cousins. So, that left her believing it was a picture of him.

His parents were both smiling as they regarded their baby, apparently coming home from the hospital. His dad was in a simple dark colored winter muggle suit. Simple but it wasn't worn or dirty looking. His mum was in a dress and hat. With gloves (and not the outdoor, winter ones). She got some tears in her eyes as she saw what obviously had to be his mum's handwriting on the back of the photo: Tobias, Eileen, and Severus Snape 14 January, 1960 .

His father had been a handsome man. Much like Severus, his looks weren't the movie-star kind that women swooned over. The picture was also taken when he'd been gainfully employed, and seemingly happy to have a son. So he was likely taking care of himself and cared about the image he presented to his neighbors and the world.

An heir.

His mother wasn't unattractive, but she was rather plain looking. That could, of course, be the result of just having had a baby.

Both parents were dressed respectably, though. Properly for an outing back in 1960 to bring their son home from the hospital.

Who had taken the picture? Severus never mentioned grandparents. She was aware Eileen Snape's parents disowned her, but were his father's parents alive in 1960? Did one of them take the picture?

Did he have aunts and uncles? Cousins? Stupid of her never to ask.

She was kind of ashamed she hadn't taken the time to find out these things. Granted, she'd been a little preoccupied, and it wasn't as if they spent every waking moment together. She'd never been in a relationship before to really know these were things she should find out. The closest she'd come was Ronald, and she knew plenty about his family without having to ask.

An obviously nice, even if it was tarnished, baby spoon and matching porringer. It was hard to tell with the spoon, but it looked like there was an engraved S on the handle. There definitely were two Ss on the porringer.

Was it wrong to take them? Things her Severus had touched, his mum had touched. She slid both into her bag with the picture. She had no idea what past-Severus was going to do or say. She wanted all of the reminders she could have about her Severus and why she was embarking on this task.

A pair of bronzed baby shoes joined those items, too.

Proof someone had cared enough to preserve and save these things.

They weren't going to do anyone here any good. Her taking them would make it less obvious this was his residence. Where he'd grown up. Assuming someone ever found it.

She cut herself off from taking many more things. She couldn't take the whole house, and really she didn't know what he'd truly value. Some notebooks he had joined the ever growing number of things being carried in her bag.

These notebooks would be proof of how brilliant a wizard he was. She wasn't sure twenty-one year old Severus knew that was true. Potions and spells that her mate thought of that no one else had.

The last thing she did was put the ring back on. She wondered who it belonged to that he had it. His mother? No, he wouldn't give her something that belonged to her. If only because there was a more than good chance that she'd see his mother, and she would therefore see the ring she was wearing.

As her plans took form in her mind, she knew that his mother would see her wearing it once prior to 1981, and Hermione would ask her to believe the unbelievable. Her wizard was smart and he wouldn't take the risk in offending his mother by giving her a ring she could lay claim to. Having his mother think she was a thief was not the way to make a good first impression. His mother had to have had it, gotten it, somehow though.

The house was cleaned, and everything personal was put back into the locked room in the basement just in case she - or someone - did come back here in this same timeline. She was going into this with the assumption it would not be her. That she'd never be back here. At least not to this version of this home in 1998.

She imagined even telling him in 1981 that he had a soulbonded soul mate would alter things for his future.

She went through everything one last time to ensure she hadn't forgotten anything that she might need. She was exhausted, even with a bit of a nap in between her chores here - and frightened - enough she was not going to blow off checking her list twice.

She was ready. She was uncertain, but it was of the unknown not of her preparedness. A seventeen years younger Severus. She had to believe what he'd told her.

The marks would not lie.

That the weekend he specified would, indeed, be a good one.

He had no reason to lie. He wouldn't purposely set her up to fail from the beginning of her trip to the past. Twenty-one year old Severus may not know her, but thirty-eight year old Severus had. And loved her. He wouldn't set her up to fail or to be embarrassed. To believe she was a fool for wanting to meet the younger version of her mate.

She took a deep breath and prepared to venture out of the house. She disillusioned herself before leaving and went to the park he'd shown her, the park where he and Lily had first met. His time turner was supposed to be able to take her where she wanted to go, not necessarily to the same place she was just in a different time. She wasn't going to take the chance, though.

That was all she needed, having to explain to the Snapes why she was in their home. Even if, at this moment, it was her home. And she was, at least magically, a Snape, too.

Money, documents, clothes. The only thing she didn't have was muggle money from that time period.

She would be able to fix that once she got to 1981.

She had everything she could think of.

This was a little different than planning for being on the run with Harry and Ron. For that she knew she could get help from someone, somewhere if she absolutely needed it. In 1981, there was no one for her to get help from. Her parents, but somehow she didn't think she'd be able to enlist their help years before they knew of the magical world. So, she'd be completely on her own.

"No time like the present," she murmured. "Past here I come."

She had a few stops to make before April 1981 to set some parts of her plan into motion, but all would be brief and very limited in who she interacted with, except one. Severus' solicitor's squib detective had given her the name of a man he knew who was also a squib who dealt with the types of transactions Hermione wanted to conduct. Except one. That one she'd be on her own for. She'd tell two people about herself during these stops: Eileen Snape.

The other she hoped to send into hiding until he was needed, or it was safe for him to return.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com