It was done.

They'd won.

Harry lived.

Voldemort died.

She imagined it would be a while for anyone to determine what they'd actually won in the grand scheme of things. They'd done what needed to be done, though.

She returned to the Shrieking Shack, alone, to tend to Severus' wounds. He was owed at least that much. She thought he was owed far more than that, but no one was going to listen to her yet. This she could do for him.

She'd found him to be not dead nor as close to death as she'd imagined he would be after seeing him bitten by Nagini. She went, assuming she'd secretly mourn him for the rest of her life without anyone knowing why his death upset her so much. Was she okay with that? Of course not, but it was what it was. She was surprised they managed to win this without much more loss.

He was a stubborn one, though, so she should have known better than to think that he would let something like a bite by a gigantic magical snake get the better of him.

Had he lost a slew of blood? Yes. It was everywhere, so much of it. She wasn't sure how he was still alive.

Would he last much longer? Probably not.

She dug through her beaded bag and got potions, salves, and bandages that she had, hoping something would help. Muggle or magical. She didn't care. She'd try it all if it meant he had the chance to survive as he deserved to.

She worked endlessly. She had no idea for how long. All that she knew was that when she stopped to catch her breath for a moment here and there she pushed through her exhaustion to the point she was barely seeing straight. She was mostly working by rote. Eventually, the bleeding slowed and then stopped and his vitals seemed somewhat stable. She gave a quick sigh of relief, assessing not just him to ensure she wasn't delusional but the area around them as well.

She knew she looked a fright, covered in his blood. Some of her own was mixed in, too. She suspected there was the blood of others she'd fought against and beside in there as well. Dirt, grime, and sweat from the fighting. Tears and probably some none too sanitary snot as she wept initially when it seemed nothing she was doing to save him worked.

She didn't care. He was worth every effort she could make. She absolutely would not let this man die. They'd won, Voldemort was dead. He needed to live. Even if it wasn't with her. God how she wanted it to be, but he had earned the right to live.

When she was certain that he was stable enough to levitate to the infirmary she did so. Harry was already there for some reason. Between the two of them they assured Severus was given a private room close to the infirmary and that no one would be allowed to see or question him until Harry had spoken with Kingsley Shacklebolt.

She sighed, looking at him on the infirmary bed once that had been established. He looked … so tired. It was worse than just being tired, though. He literally looked as if he had had the entirety of the wizarding world on his shoulders for the past year and no one to help him. No one to ease his pain. No one to understand he was trying to do his job as headmaster who sided with the Dark Lord and as the Order's spy at the same time. She couldn't imagine what he had to do to keep the students safe without appearing to actually be doing so. No one to talk to. She felt bad about that, because she suspected that he would have talked to her. He seemed to be willing to talk to her over others even last year. She at least had Harry and Ron.

For whatever reason, he'd never used the mirror. Whether he didn't think it was safe (for either of them) or if it was because she was never too far from being within earshot of Harry or Ron and he would know that fact.

She had no idea and supposed it would be a while before she found out. Assuming he recovered and he wished to talk to  her. He might not now that all of this was done. He might want to ride off into the sunset and put the British wizarding world and everyone in it behind him.

She liked to think it wasn't because he'd changed his mind about how he felt about her. Hard to imagine he would after twenty years for him to get to this point, but she knew hearts were fickle things at times. The past year could have changed something in him as to how he felt. Maybe the reality of it was too much for him after all? She was just his swot of a student after all when all was said and done.

She had no idea.

"I'm going to go for a walk," Hermione said.

"Are you okay, ‘mione?" Harry asked. "We really need to talk. There's so much to go over. Things I should tell you."

"I know. First I just need to clear my head, Harry. Get some fresh air. Breathe. I promise we can talk when I've taken a few minutes to collect myself."

She thought she'd earned that much at least. A few minutes to herself, for herself, after a year of worrying about Harry, Harry, Harry. (Not that she was upset about having done so.) She hadn't thought about the steps she'd need to take to get her parents back. She hadn't allowed herself to … hope that she might be able to.

They'd won!

Voldemort was not only defeated but dead.

She could go to Australia now. A year without seeing them was just … too long. Odd since she'd been away from them basically since she was twelve for months at a time, but the past ten months had been … different. A permanence that hadn't been there before. There was a chance she might never see them again. There was a chance she would not be able to undo what she'd done in an effort to protect them.

Until this moment, she hadn't really stopped to think about them and what she'd done. What she would do if she couldn't get them back. What she would do for the rest of her life without her parents in it if she couldn't. It would be her fault.

Them being alive was great, but she imagined as she had time to think. To miss them. It wasn't going to feel so great after a while.

Maybe Severus could help her? Both of their minds working on returning her parents' memories would have to be better than just her doing it. And there weren't many minds she'd want working on it with her other than Severus'.

Assuming he survived, of course.

Lots of assumptions. Lots of unknowns.

So, yes, she just wanted some time to herself. A few minutes. She thought she'd earned that.

She needed some air, some space away from everyone, and truthfully if she stayed here with Severus she was afraid she'd betray the fact that she had very thoroughly snogged the wizard more than once. She did not have a very good poker face.

"I'm really glad that you're not just all right but alive, Harry." God, if they had gone through all of that just for Harry to die she would have lost it.

"Me, too," he said.

He looked exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. She imagined once the endorphins from surviving and winning wore off he'd crash hard. Likely they all would. The past ten months had been exhausting in so many ways. "I'll stay with Snape. Ron and I will. We will make sure nothing happens to him."

"Are you sure that's wise?"

She chose to ignore Harry calling him Snape. Ronald hadn't exactly been Severus' biggest fan. She didn't do all that work to heal Severus just to have Ronald poison him or something.

"Yes, Ron isn't going to vote for him for professor of the year or anything, but he believes me when I told him he was on our side the whole time."

"Good," she said, trusting him to do the right thing by Severus Snape. Forget being a spy, he was a hero and deserved to be treated right. She gave Severus' right arm a gentle squeeze, hoping that wouldn't seem too weird. "I worked too hard to get him here to have something totally preventable happen to him."

"I know, ‘mione. We'll watch him. Go, I'll send a patronus if we need you."

"Thank you, Harry." She leaned in then, kissing his cheek before leaving the room.

She walked the halls of the castle, a finger grazing along the wall whenever she could. She could have found her way to the prefect bathroom and cleaned herself up. She didn't care about that right now, though. This was what she wanted. She needed it, the castle, the connection she'd always felt with it. At first it was just pure awe and wonder at this place, this world, being open to her over her neighbour Nancy or Betsy. Gradually, she'd come to appreciate and honour it. At least she thought she did. Judging by it allowing her and Severus to speak it must have felt the same way. It was home to her in such a primal way.

Today that was what she needed. She felt bad leaving him, but she couldn't just sit there and watch him either. She wasn't sure he'd like her doing it for that matter.

Was that wrong?

She wasn't sure. If she stayed there, she would want to touch and talk to him. She'd come to care for him too much for him to just die before she truly got the chance to know him.

Was there anything she could have done differently?

She walked down an abandoned hallway. Abandoned was relative. They were all free of living beings right now. This one, though, there were no bodies or even blood here and she sighed in relief that the castle had led her here. She wasn't sure she wanted to see more death just yet.

She'd sit for a few minutes, collect herself, and then go back and see what needed to be done. She was sure the infirmary would need help. She wasn't sure she wanted to know who else was badly hurt. She sat with her back against a wall, both palms flush on the floor. She welcomed the quiet. She sighed at the feel of the castle. This place she had grown to love and knew it loved her, too. She let her head fall back against the wall, closing her eyes so that she could go over the entire year.

It was probably too soon, but she needed to do it. She needed to know. Hogwarts had wanted them to talk. It had allowed them to meet years before they should have been able to. And with a different dynamic in play. Hermione had used the Room of Requirement prior to the night of Headmaster Dumbledore's death. Severus apparently had not. So that meant Hogwarts brought him to the Room.

To her.

That night.

At that moment.

The moment she was questioning her belief in him.

Why?

Was there some way that all of the death and destruction could have been avoided? That she, Harry, and Ron - well everyone really because it couldn't have been easy for anyone - could have not had to live as they had the past ten months? That they might not have been brought to Malfoy Manor?

She didn't see how and she shed the tears that had been threatening to fall for hours now.

She scoffed at that.

Hours.

They'd been threatening to fall for days.

Months really if she wanted to be honest. She hadn't let herself cry often. She didn't have the time to. She had to stay strong. Allowing herself to get to the point of crying would not go to that end. She didn't view it as a weakness, but there was just no time.

She wondered if she'd ever stop now.

Suddenly, she felt the castle pulse around her, as if trying to comfort her. She felt it. She never did understand this connection she had to the castle, or that it had to her. She knew others did not, though, only because no one else seemed to truly care for it as she did.

Except for Severus.

Harry did too but it was different.

With the comfort came the memory of her last conversation with Severus Snape. Not the last one she'd had with him at Hogwarts. Their Saturday meeting.

How the castle knew about it to cast the memory to the front of her mind she couldn't say. They had not been at Hogwarts for it to have been privy to it. Maybe one day she'd understand how it worked.

He'd asked if he could assist her. He'd said he wished he knew what their task was so he maybe could have done it himself. She'd brushed him off because he had his own role to play in the chess match that were the events leading up to today's final battle and, thankfully, Voldemort's defeat. Hunting for horcruxes was not where he was needed or most useful.

She rubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands as she felt the castle pulsing through her. Her hair was waving and weaving wildly. She huffed because there was no stopping it! When it was like this it very much had a mind of its own.

Demanding. 

Urgent.

Electric.

Both her hair and Hogwarts. As if they were in agreement.

"It's too late, though," she said. "Isn't it? I can't change anything. It's done. The war is over. We won. You wanted us to win. You had to have. We did that. The Room is probably still on fire."

She let out a screech as just like that the wall behind her disappeared and she fell through it. She drew her wand and took in her surroundings quickly despite how tired she was. She would not die like this!

"Oh you beautiful thing," she whispered once she was confident she wasn't being kidnapped by Death Eaters hiding out in the castle. (The fact that she'd come through the wall made her realize even thinking that's what it was was fairly ridiculous even in her exhausted state.)

Ron had hypothesized that the Room might be destroyed earlier. Maybe it was and this was the castle itself reaching out. She didn't know and she likely never would. For some reason the castle had wanted them to win and for her to work with Severus to do so. Was it telling her there was still something she could do?

The war was over, wasn't it? They'd won, with so many losses but Voldemort was dead.

What was there left to do?

There was that conversation again, playing out in her mind of Severus saying he wished he knew what their task was.

Okay. So going over her last conversation with Severus again gave Hermione an idea.

He'd spent most of the night with her, leaving just before dawn when he thought being gone any longer would appear suspicious. She'd never slept with a man before. Not that they'd actually slept for more than an hour or so. It was … nice. It had certainly been different than sharing the tent with Harry and Ronald after that night.

Despite not really sleeping much, they were in a bed together so it counted to her. She wagered he'd needed the comfort the same as she did. They both seemed to be on the same page, taking what time they had to talk and to kiss. And touch, though that never got out of hand, or under clothing as much as they both might have wanted it to.

Both knew it wasn't the time or place, regardless of her age.

She looked around at what Hogwarts had provided her. One single door. The only thing in this room. It had to be a door leading to the Room.

Didn't it?

There was that pulsing by both her hair and the castle.

"Okay. You're going to let me ask for something. Is that it?"

She felt its positive response wash through her.

Think, Hermione, think, and make it good. Prove once and for all that you are the brightest witch of your age.

Going over that conversation in her head had planted a seed, but she needed to figure out where, rather when, to go to deliver the message. Too early and that would be bad, too late and that would be equally bad.

She stood, having no idea where she was exactly but knew that Hogwarts was waiting for her request.

"Any thoughts?"

Silence.

As if she expected a castle to actually answer her.

He was right, she was an odd witch.

All right. All right.

She took a deep breath, going over various dates in her mind and when would be best to approach him with this idea.

If he said no?

Well, he couldn't!

I need to see first year Professor Severus Snape August 1981.

He'd told her he had used the Room more than a few times over the years since his first experience with it meeting her. The door she saw glowed for a moment and then it was back to being a door. She nibbled on her lower lip as she opened it.

He for sure had the Dark Mark now. He'd spent at least a year or two as a Death Eater (or at least a follower) before turning to Dumbledore from what her research had told her. He hadn't given her specific dates last year and she hadn't thought to ask.

"Hello, Hermione," he said simply, seemingly unsurprised or unphased at her presence here two years after their last Room visit.

"You're not going to make me call you Professor now, are you?"

He tilted his head a bit and gave the closest thing she'd ever seen to a smile from him until a year ago.

"I realize now one day that is what you will likely have to call me unless something changes in the next ten years. I'm guessing it does not for whatever reason. I'm hoping that doesn't mean we're at war for ten more years, but no. I think Severus suits our current arrangement."

"Thank you," she said.

The question had been somewhat in jest, but she didn't know much about this Severus so close to the point he'd changed sides. And he had asked her at the church last year if he should address her as Hermione or Miss Granger.

"Are you back from your task?" he asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"I can only presume since you said the last time we saw one another that it would likely be our last that it didn't take you as long as expected," he said.

"Oh," she said. "No, I am. Back I mean. We were gone for about ten months. It worked to a point, but I'm hoping between the two of us that we can do better. I have something for you."

"Really?"

How he could make one word drip with innuendo she wasn't sure. The fact that it was aimed at her made her pulse quicken. Did he know the power of his voice? Were others affected by his voice in the same way? She supposed she didn't want to know if they were. Certainly not back in 1981 despite what he'd told her in their room last year.

"Not that!" She couldn't help but laugh even though she was blushing. "You showed up."

"I did?"

"You did."

He took her in then, dark eyes assessing her. She knew even this Severus, knowing very little about her, saw too much. He'd see her scars. The new ones. He'd see how thin she was. He'd see the blood, dirt, and other things she was covered in. It was all dried by now but she was coming to realize that nothing else looked like blood. He'd see how haggard and exhausted she looked. Yes, Bill's house had facilities, but that had been days ago. At least it seemed as though it had been.

She now wished she'd stopped in the prefect bathroom! She didn't like him seeing her like this.

"Am I that bad that you came back to me at this age?"

She shook her head. Hmm. There was something she hadn't thought about. What if he wasn't … good? What if they weren't good like that together? What if after nineteen years of waiting she left him wanting … not Hermione Granger?

"No. I mean, we didn't. It was a year ago and I wasn't eighteen yet, even if I had been I think the timing was off due to our circumstances," she said with a shrug, blushing deeper now because truthfully that was probably the only reason she wouldn't have.

She wouldn't have cared that she wasn't eighteen. She knew by that time she was going to obliviate her parents' memories of her. So nothing would happen to him legally from one night together that she'd never tell anyone about.

"I wanted to?"

"I presume so," she said with a shrug.

Was she supposed to be able to tell that? It was not as if other than Viktor she had … experience with someone desiring her like that. He'd said they shouldn't, but if she had been over eighteen and said yes. Would he have? Did him saying they shouldn't really mean he wouldn't?

He scoffed. No telling why, there were a number of reasons that ran through her mind that could cause that reaction from him.

Best get onto the reason she was here.

"During that conversation you asked me if you could assist. That made me think. This task that Harry, Ron, and I accomplished. We did it, but didn't really know what we were doing. One of the things we talked about that night made me think. You know how to cast Fiendfyre, correct?"

He looked at her curiously. She supposed it was an odd request.

"Yes," he said finally, seeming to realize she was genuinely asking a question and expecting an answer.

"Enough to control it?"

"Of course I can," he said, sounding almost affronted that she'd question that.

Oh, there was a glimmer of her Professor Snape.

Yes, he was a bit full of himself, wasn't he? He still was in her time, but it was different.

Her Severus had more than earned the right to walk that walk and talk that talk. This Severus was still getting his sealegs about him, and was embarking on a life as a spy. He'd just recently learned he'd made a grave mistake: both in joining Voldemort and reporting the prophecy to him. She supposed having met her he knew that he had some sort of future, but he didn't know how long of one. And he didn't know he'd nearly died today. In fact, he very well still could. His injuries were quite severe.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the feel of the Room wash over her. She felt her hair stand on end. She'd always felt … connected to it. As if it understood her, welcomed her. A connection to Hogwarts few had. She didn't know anyone else the Room would change for while they were already in it. She believed Severus had a similar connection. Hogwarts had become home to her, and she knew it was to this man, too, in a different way than others considered it home. They truly loved magic, knowledge, and Hogwarts for the knowledge it could provide them.

Are you really going to let me do this?

"Oh my," she said as she noticed all of her notes and the books she'd been using while researching the horcruxes were now present. The Room was evidently in favour of her doing this.

"Sit," she said, gesturing to the table.

It took him a moment, probably wondering what he was getting himself involved with going by the amount of books and notebooks around the table. (She'd switched from parchment and quills to notebooks and pencils very early on in the research process. It was just faster and easier to keep everything together.)

He sat next to her, reaching for one of the notebooks. She slapped his wrist.

"They're in order!"

He smirked, nodding slightly.

"These are yours," he asked.

"Yes. And they seem to be just as I had them out my last night here before I left Hogwarts last July."

"Of course they are. Go on then."

"Harry, Ron, and I went hunting for horcruxes. At this time, your current time, there are five of them. In my time, there was a sixth. His familiar, a giant snake named Nagini was the sixth, but the diary that's currently in your time had already been destroyed. So still technically only five. I believed there was a seventh. He didn't know we'd destroyed the diary. Well, I don't think he did. It was done before he came back. I firmly believed, though no one had said so and I couldn't find anything tangible saying it was true or in reality possible, that my friend Harry was one, too. He was connected to You Know Who via the scar he received by surviving the Killing Curse. His scar hurt at times when he was connected to You Know Who's thoughts. He's a parseltongue as You Know Who is, and You Know Who could get into his mind, his thoughts and dreams. He could influence them. I came to figure that out too late. My scar," she said, gesturing to her chest. "Is as a result of a vision You Know Who sent to Harry that caused him to act rashly. I went with him because that's what best friend's do even in a war. Well, at least to me they do. Dolohov was there that night along with others. There are other things, but anyway. It made me wonder, due to my research, if he wasn't one, too. An accidental one. As it turned out, I was correct. I suspect the headmaster knew, too. He had to have figured it out, but he said nothing."

She obviously had his attention, but he hadn't said anything yet. She took that as a good sign, though. He was listening and to this point found her research and presentation of the facts acceptable.

"So, um, I was thinking and I think Hogwarts wants you to. If you were to, say, find the five that exist in your time and destroy them now. In 1981. He would die, Severus. He wouldn't come back. The war would be over once and for all. You would be your own man nearly twenty years sooner. And those who perished in the past year, the past eighteen years, would be alive. Not all obviously, but we'd be stopping so many deaths."

"And what makes you so sure that I'm going to go along with this instead of doing the exact opposite and reporting to the Dark Lord his horcruxes are known about and identified?"

"I know, Severus. I know that you're a spy. I know that you've already heard the prophecy and reported it to him. When you realized it was about Lily you went to Headmaster Dumbledore. I know."

He swallowed, lowering his gaze. Not before she saw a sad look there, though. She sighed softly. Did he love her? Would he take this knowledge and try to save her? Try to woo her into leaving James Potter for him?

It was a risk she was willing to take. Lives were at stake. Her heart would recover if that was the way he wanted to play this.

"Harry?"

"Yes," she said, answering his unspoken question.

Harry was the son of Lily and James Potter.

"I guess I chose not to pay attention to his name."

"I can understand that."

She truly could.

This Severus hadn't had nearly twenty years to deal with the fact Lily had married James. What she didn't know is if it was jealousy at this point or just that she'd married a bully.

His bully.

They spent hours going through her notes, what evidence they had found as to what the horcruxes were and where they were. What she knew of them in his current time and how they could be destroyed. Somewhere in there he'd cast cleansing spells on both her and her clothes. She was only vaguely aware of it.

"It has to be done by Halloween, Severus," she said. "That's why I asked to see you before classes had begun."

"I see. So, Halloween…"

"Yes," she said, swallowing hard. "I'm not sure there's a way to alter that. I don't know enough about specific things in your time to give another suggestion. I don't think the headmaster would trust you enough to tell you where they are so that you could warn them to move. I don't know that information. As far as I know it was never relayed to Harry, where they were hiding I mean. You told me that night you believe he only trusted you to a point. You knew nothing about horcruxes, though I think you were part of one whether you realize it or not. The headmaster found the ring and put it on. It cursed him. His was the death that I was upset about the night we first met in here. You killed him, were asked to do it to cement your position as the Dark Lord's most loyal servant. I can't help but wonder if this," she said gesturing to the table with all of her notes. "Is what the castle was doing all along. I was just too focused on my task and the idea that I was talking to you to get that it was pushing me to get you to assist us. And end this years sooner."

He was quiet for a long time after that. No doubt piecing together that his friend was going to die within the next few months.

"The baby, Harry, survives, though? He's only a year old I think?"

"He does. With a scar, which I think is where the accidental horcrux is housed. For lack of a better explanation."

He nodded, seeming to understand her thought process.

She gripped his wrist, squeezing hard. His eyes shot up to meet hers, clearly confused at what she was doing.

She wasn't sure how to say this without sounding like a paranoid bitch, but it had to be said. If they couldn't stop Harry's parents from being killed she had to at least fix this. Harry deserved so much better than what he'd gotten.

"I implore you, Severus Snape, if you succeed in finding and destroying them. I know you will because you are the cleverest, bravest, most determined, and strongest wizard that I know. So when you succeed and after it happens. Please do whatever you have to do to ensure Harry Potter does not go to the Dursleys. They're awful to him, Severus. I know your childhood wasn't great, and if I could fix that, too, I would. I haven't been given that chance. This, though. I would not be his best friend. Hell I wouldn't be a decent human being, if I said nothing. No one deserves to live like that. Please. Bring him to my mum and dad if you have to. I don't care because he may as well be my brother. He wouldn't be raised magical there, but he wasn't with the Dursleys either. My parents are at least intelligent and rational people and would listen to you if you told them why you were dropping him off. He'd be treated fairly and loved at least. They tried so hard before me so I think they'd love having a second one."

He stood then, walking to the wall. He stood there with his back to her, his hands clenched together behind his back. She watched him in silence, observing his posture and the way he carried himself.

This was the beginning of her Professor Snape. He hadn't taught his first class yet, but he would be soon no doubt. Already he had the robe with so many buttons. He had the posture, the aura of command. He was a grown wizard now, no longer an adolescent. He was already a Death Eater, had already done unspeakable things that she knew in her time years later he didn't think he could ever truly atone for.

He was a spy. He was a hero.

And yet because of his young age in relation to the students and many of them knowing him as a student himself. He had doubts as to his abilities to teach.

He thought in order to do so he had to rule his classroom with an iron fist. It worked, no doubt, but if students like Neville had caught the glimpse of him brewing she had when they'd done the burn paste together. They probably would have learned more than being scared he was going to hex them all of the time. Of course, that was easy for her to say. She wasn't the one spying, even then he had been. He'd had to behave a certain way. Never mind he hadn't really had a very good example on how to behave either. His father had been an arsehole and the professors and headmaster had basically ignored the bullying he'd been on the receiving end of.

He'd admitted he hadn't always been blameless in the incidents between him and the Marauders.

She stood then and walked to him, settling her hand over his arm.

"I'm sorry. I know this is a lot on top of everything else you already have on your mind. We can just forget this."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Evidently, I offered to help you, and well, I can't deny this solution is probably the most helpful of all. To all but the Potters, of course."

"Yes. If you can find another way to kill him before then," she said.

"No," he said with a sigh. "He is already paranoid of deception. He very rarely allows anyone to be alone with him for just that reason. He trusts no one is truly loyal to him enough to be one-on-one with any of us. I will keep it in mind, though, absolutely. If the opportunity arose I would take advantage of it."

There it was. An opening to ask what was on her mind about this time in his history.

"Because you want her?"

It would certainly be an ideal way to get a woman to realize you truly cared, loved, her.

He turned slightly then to look at her. He searched her face seemingly looking for something. She wasn't sure what, but she met his gaze refusing to look away. She wasn't embarrassed that she cared for him. She wasn't afraid to let him see that she was uncertain and, yes, okay she could admit jealous of his feelings for Lily.

"Because I don't want two people to die if that could possibly be prevented. Albus believes I'm doing this for her."

She stared for a moment, not sure she should ask it.

In for a pound.

"You're not?" she asked, swallowing hard. She hated the hopeful tone in her voice.

"I'm doing it for another witch. Because of may be a more appropriate choice in words than for. Yes, I asked him to spare Lily's life, I won't deny that. I had to, everyone knows of my past with her. I don't want her to die, Hermione. For someone like me who had no friends, I couldn't just stand by and let her be killed."

"I understand."

"No, you don't. Or you wouldn't have had to ask the question. I'm not upset you asked it. I'm flattered you still care enough to ask. You say it's been nearly a year since you've seen me, this me or your time's me. A lot could have happened during that time. You were alone for ten months with two wizards, one of whom you admit to having liked at one time. You could have decided someone … closer to you in age was a better fit. I don't feel that way for her any longer. I haven't really since after the first time we spoke. You made me see that maybe she wasn't much of a friend. Not a true one," he shrugged, turning a bit more toward her and set a hand at her cheek. "I suppose it may have been the second time we met and we kissed. Truly kissed. She'd never kissed or even touched me like that. She kissed me as a friend. Maybe. I've come to the conclusion that it was out of pity. She felt sorry for the poor boy from the wrong part of Cokeworth who had no other friends. I wanted her spared because it was the least I could do for my friend, to try to save her life. I'm not in favor of her choice in a husband, I will not deny that. I'm not in favor of the fact that she would befriend Potter and his friends, knowing what he was capable of. Forget me, how would he treat a child who misbehaved."

"So Dumbledore and the Dark Lord think?"

"Yes," he shrugged. "Albus will think I'm a loose cannon if I tell him differently. He will think my heart isn't truly in it and will be suspect of my loyalty to the Order even more than he already is. Love to him is some powerful force. The Dark Lord," he shrugged. "It makes him believe he retains power over me. Albus and I need that."

"Hogwarts is obviously in favour of our doing this," she said, gesturing back to the table and her notes and books strewn about.

"I guess so."

"If you need help, come ask the Room for help, Severus. Even if you complete the task and you need help. Ask it."

"I will do my best for you, Hermione," he said.

"I know you will."

"If we, I, do this, our futures will likely change."

"I know."

"I may not be your professor."

"I know."

"You are okay with that?"

She shrugged, eyeing the floor at her feet with faux interest.

She could admit to herself that she wasn't really okay with it, but what choice did she have? It was scary because she had no idea what things would be like. However, she knew that overall her life to this point had been a decent one, barring the wizarding violence. She knew, though, that things like her parents supporting her wouldn't change. Ever. She may not have to send them away a year ago as she did.

She had very little to lose, really.

They were talking about the chance, albeit slim, of Harry having his parents. Or a parent. How could she say no to that? And Neville, he might have his parents. She wasn't sure when his parents' became ill. Molly's brothers.

They might all be there in the future. Wasn't that worth her risking … him? Them?

Whatever they were. She wasn't sure what that was. Ten months from when these conversations had first started and they'd never labeled it. She wouldn't have let him, of course. Even that night in London together, they hadn't. They had more important things to concern themselves with. And at thirty-seven he likely didn't think about things like if a witch was his girlfriend.

"I have to be. You may be my professor but different. We are saving so many lives, Severus. So much death and destruction can be prevented if we - if you - do this. Never mind you, years you won't have to live as a spy and stay here if you truly wish to be somewhere else. If that means I have to give up my feelings for you or have them and be unable to act on them, then I guess that's worth it."

"Oh, you can be sure I will find you. The other witch I spoke of doing this for is here in this room with me. I am a rather loyal creature."

She gave a soft laugh at that. She couldn't deny that statement thrilled her to no end. She did know he was loyal. No one could doubt that. Well at least after today they couldn't.

"I wish I could say I'll hold you to that, but I really won't know. Will I?"

"I'll know," he said simply, as if that should be answer enough. Oddly, somehow it was. "What day is it?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The date."

"May 2, 1998."

"Time?"

"Um, I'm really not sure. The battle," she said with a shrug. Everything had happened so fast the past few hours let alone days. "Around noon maybe? I hadn't stopped to think about the time."

He nodded.

"How did you know?" she asked.

"Know what?"

"That it was you. The last time I saw you you didn't seem to. When I saw you, when you met me, you knew it was you and asked me why I'd let you know so obviously it was you."

His lips lifted into the hint of a smile. She was still not used to seeing that from him. She loved it and wanted to see more of it, but it looked so foreign on this man. The little crow's feet around his eyes weren't here yet she noticed.

"I've had many days and nights to go over our conversations. Who else could it have been? It took me a bit after your last visit, truthfully. I had … other things on my mind. You didn't seem the type to like one wizard and let another," he looked at her then none too discreetly.

He was obviously, and very thoroughly, checking her out and she blushed again. Would he still like how she looked, she wondered? She'd lost a lot of weight. She had more scars. She fidgeted with her shirt's left sleeve instinctively, wanting to hide that one from him.

"Touch you."

"I've never let another wizard do that."

"I sensed that was so."

He stopped looking at her then, meeting her eyes again. There was a hardness, a coldness there that hadn't been a moment ago. She sensed, though, that it wasn't aimed at her necessarily.

"Why are you so thin, Hermione?"

"You can tell that?"

He shrugged. "I am an observant man for one despite it being three years since I saw you last, but I see it in your face. I see it in the way your clothes fit."

"Mm. Take your pick, ten months on the run in hiding, starving because I had to make sure Harry didn't starve, getting captured and tortured," she whispered the last.

She saw anger in his eyes then, and suspected if he'd been on the fence about doing this, going forward with her idea, that he was fully onboard now. She loved that about him. He didn't really know her yet and he still had the instinct of wanting to protect her. To see her whole.

"Have you had your … initiation yet?"

He chuckled softly and then scowled, looking pensive. "I told you about that?"

"Yes," she said.

"I really must trust you," he mused.

"I think you felt bad for some reason, even though I knew years would go by between our last conversation and last year."

"Yes, well, you are the only witch who has ever seemed to enjoy spending time with me let alone kissing me and allowing me the liberties you did."

"I wanted to do more," she whispered.

He laughed then, a full laugh and she vowed she'd do whatever she could to hear it again. "As did I, I assure you."

"One day, maybe? You understand now why I had to stop, though. The last time we were in the Room together. I knew you were my professor. You did not. I couldn't do that to you."

He nodded simply.

"You can't tell Headmaster Dumbledore, or anyone for that matter, what you're doing."

"I gathered that."

He looked surprised that she would even think she needed to say such a thing to him.

"No, really. He seems to like to have control of how this war plays out. I think he might actually try to stop you from destroying them if he knows. I'm not sure why, I have no proof but I've come to the conclusion that he is not the kindly old wizard everyone makes him out to be."

He nodded his head slightly. She imagined even now in 1981 Severus knew things about Headmaster Dumbledore others did not. And likely never would.

"I would agree. If I had a knute for every time he let the Marauders' bullying go unpunished I'd be a very rich wizard. Almost as if he wanted me to be pushed toward the Dark Lord and his leanings."

"I'm sorry," she said, lifting her hand to cup his cheek. She ran the edge of her thumb along his cheek, nose, and the corner of his mouth. He turned his head a bit to kiss the pad of her thumb.

He saw it then and she closed her eyes, cursing her stupidity. Why did she use that hand to touch him?

"There are things you are keeping from me," he said, his hand gently encircling her wrist so he could look at her arm. His touch might have been gentle, concerned. His eyes, though were positively lethal. "You've been tortured?"

"I said captured and tortured, Severus. I survived, obviously. I'm here."

"Hermione," he whispered, bringing her arm to his lips to kiss the still open wound. "I am so sorry you were brought into a world where things like this happened to you. You should have been safely ensconced in your books and learning, not tortured and made to fight a war."

"I did what I had to do."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but perhaps decided now was not the time. He released her wrist after a gentle caress of his thumb over the wound.

"All right. Any other tasks for me, Miss Granger?"

She closed her eyes, clutching his hand with hers.

"Please don't call me that."

"You're not surprised I know?"

"No," she said.

"I told you," he said, clearly surmising that was the case.

"Yes."

He shook his head. "Yet you imply I am a successful spy."

"You are, Severus. Being honest with me years from now because I saw what others don't or wouldn't does not mean you're not."

"Still, it's not in my nature to be so talkative."

"Maybe you just needed the right witch."

"It would seem so."

"What were you doing in here today?"

"Honestly, I don't know. It felt almost as if it was a compulsion to do so, the same as what drew me here the first time truthfully. I'm not sure that I ever told you that. I have no idea how I even got to that floor that day. It was as if the castle guided me. As to today, it is my first day here."

"Oh! Well, I did say August 1981."

He nodded.

"It would seem something is in favour of this idea of mine. In my time, I'm not even sure the Room is functioning. It was on fire the last I saw it a few hours ago. Yet, I'm here with you. I didn't get here the normal way. Hogwarts brought me here."

"Well, then, since it seems this is a plan something is in favour of, we best discuss it further."

He moved back to the table and she followed him. She was going to work with Severus Snape! She couldn't believe it. True, it wasn't the Severus Snape from her time, but she didn't doubt he was any less exacting in 1981. She brewed with him their first time together in this room, but that was different.

The Room had known that task would lead to them talking. To Severus talking about what was bothering him that day. That led to them developing feelings. And trust. To where they were today.

This could change … everything. Very literally.

And yet, the Room. Or Hogwarts. Or something wanted them to do this. She had no doubt if this was a horrible idea they would be stopped from pursuing it.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com