"Is everything all right, Harry?" Hermione asked when Harry finally joined them at the dinner table.

Joined, and said nothing as to why he was late. It was clear everyone near them was curious. What an odd year this was turning into and, considering their first four years, that was saying a lot.

It wasn't like him to be late, especially these days. It was very apparent that his movements were being closely monitored by a few of their professors. Umbridge, in particular, seemed to watch him like a hawk. (Of course, she hadn't been wrong that they were up to something.) The vile witch needed to find something better to do than focus on her best friend. Too bad she hadn't been the one to violate their DA contract!

Hermione refused to acknowledge her, in her head at least, as the headmistress. That pink toad (no offense to Trevor) did not deserve the title. She was horrid. Absolutely horrid! How was she even allowed to work here? She understood the Ministry wanting to infiltrate Hogwarts, but she would think Minister Fudge would want someone … competent here. She might have some less than enthusiastic opinions on Headmaster Dumbledore, but ultimately he had the students' best interest at heart.

At least when it came to education.  He wanted them to learn. She firmly believed he did. She had her doubts when it came to other things.

Didn't they want students to actually learn things? She questioned whether some of her classmates actually came here to learn, but there weren't many she wondered that about. It was an adjustment, too, coming here after being at a regular school, or homeschooled.

Didn't they want students safe? Did they think Colin, Justin, Penelope, and Hermione had been petrified as some sort of a prank?

Then she was logical and, well, sane.

Maybe that was the problem.

"Yes, fine. Just lost track of time," he said as he looked at the dinner options available to him on the house table before him.

She watched as he filled his plate. He took a heaping serving of brussel sprouts. Okay, a bit odd, but maybe he wanted brussel sprouts tonight even though he didn't seem to like them that much. He looked … anxious if she didn't know better. One thing Harry knew right now was to be punctual, even if it was the night before the start of Easter holidays. She was sure that him being missed from somewhere like the Great Hall for dinner wouldn't go unnoticed by those watching him.

Of course she supposed if he were up to something, knowing that everyone was in here would be helpful. Had he done something? Had he done something bad? They couldn't afford to have him suspended or something! She was fairly sure the headmaster wouldn't be able to get him out of it this time. Wouldn't he tell her or Ron in advance, though? Unless he didn't want to risk them getting in trouble for knowing.

He leaned in then.

So close she thought for a second he was going to kiss her, which made her look at him curiously. And made her forget being upset with him for doing something without telling them about it. Ron apparently noticed, too, and looked like he might just want to throttle his best friend.

What was he thinking?

Was he under some sort of spell?

Late for dinner? Taking more than the usual amount of brussel sprouts? Kissing her?

"I was just catching up with the headmaster," he whispered. She breathed easier.

He wasn't trying to kiss her, which meant she didn't have to look too closely at the idea that he was under someone else's control. Honestly, the night before Easter holidays wasn't when she wanted to have to research that!

Ron, though, was positively glowering at them. He didn't hear what Harry said to her. Evidently Harry didn't want him to. She rolled her eyes a bit at Ron's reaction. She wished he'd make up his mind. One minute he seemed interested, the next he was practically salivating over witches like Lavender. She was never going to be like them, so if that was what he wanted. Well, she just wished he'd figure it out.

Harry, though, there'd never been any of … that between them. So when she thought he'd wanted to kiss her, it threw her. She was relieved that he didn't want to complicate their friendship at all. Thank goodness. It was bad enough she was trying to figure out how she felt about Ron these days.

And, really, should she have to go through so much to get someone to even like her? Viktor hadn't needed that much! She knew that meant something, too, but she wasn't ready to admit that she was wasting her time. Or that maybe her feelings were misguided.

Harry was like a brother. She liked to think theirs was a friendship that many envied, even if they couldn't understand it. If she had a knut for every time she heard that guys couldn't just be friends with a girl. Or that Harry was just being nice to her until she "gave in". Well, she'd be on her way to being pretty rich. He'd just never been in the realm of possibility for her romantically. She wasn't sure why. He was nice and nice looking. He wasn't an imbecile and, when he actually applied himself, impressed her at times. He just wasn't a boyfriend person, and the thought of kissing him just held zero appeal.

The best part?

Despite the fact they never spoke about it, she was certain that Harry felt the same. It worked for them.

"So, um, yeah, he said he wants to see you at nine o'clock tonight," he whispered into Hermione's ear so that no one else would hear.

Neville by now had noticed, and was staring at Harry as if he'd grown a second head or something. She grimaced, realizing what it must look like to others who might be looking at them. Maybe that was the point.

Make them focus on what Harry was doing, or what they thought he was trying to do, versus what he might be saying.

"Go to McGonagall's office. She'll help you get there."

She glanced from Harry to the head table, noticing Professor McGonagall was missing, as was Professor Snape. That wasn't necessarily anything new, but their head of house seemed to ensure that she was present at meals whenever possible, especially these days. It was her house members who seemed to be the focus of Umbridge's wrath.

"Me?" Hermione asked.

She looked at Harry again, certain he was wrong.

What could the headmaster possibly have to say to her? Did he think she was responsible for him being ousted by Umbridge? Was he upset she'd put the jinx on the DA contract?

It was war!

Harry deserved to know who might betray him. And as it turned out, Marietta had. It could have been someone betraying them to Voldemort! And then where would they be if he knew what they were doing and their capabilities?

"Yeah," he whispered, brushing his shoulder against hers.

She picked up her glass of pumpkin juice, bringing it to her lips.

"With you, though, right?"

This was asked right before she took a sip of the juice.

"No," he said with a shake of his head and a slight frown. "Just you."

Hermione blanched, going over in her mind anything the headmaster could possibly want with her the night before Easter holidays started. True, she wasn't overly happy with Professor Umbridge, and hadn't hidden that fact, but no one was that Hermione knew of.

Not even the Slytherins.

So that couldn't be it. He would have just talked to Harry about her if it was Umbridge. Harry was perfectly capable of filling the headmaster in on things. They talked enough, surely the headmaster would trust Harry's judgment and reporting skills.

"I'm sure he just wants you to research something," Harry whispered with a shrug.

Plausible, but she wasn't so sure about that.

If he wanted her to research something he'd just tell Harry, or send her a note through him or Professor McGonagall or something. He wouldn't summon her to her head of house's office at nine o'clock the night before they were to go home for Easter holidays.

She'd been looking forward to a quiet night before going to the Burrow, too. It was never quiet there as much as she loved spending time there. Especially right now as she was wondering if she should even be interested in Ron. That didn't mean she couldn't go to his house. She loved the Weasleys and her parents didn't seem to mind. Or if they did, they pretended they didn't.

"You'll go, right?"

"Yes," she said, nibbling on her lower lip before taking another sip of the pumpkin juice.

She was worried. Was he going to send her home as punishment? Was she going to get in trouble after all for the DA contract jinx? He would have to surmise it was her who had done it.

Or was it something else entirely?

Did he think she was no longer safe? She wasn't the only muggleborn witch or wizard here, but she was the only one who was as close to Harry as she was. She read the papers, muggle and magical alike. She knew things were getting very violent everywhere. Was he going to tell her to go home? She absolutely did not want to go home! She'd purposely skated over current events with her parents when they asked. She suspected if they knew she was in danger, they'd send for her. She'd come too far in this to be sent home!

He patted her shoulder gently, leaning in again.

"Don't think about it too much, all right? Just go about your evening and show up at nine. I'm sure it's not a big deal. I thought about waiting until later to tell you, but knew it would bother you more that I'd known for hours and didn't say anything."

She opened her mouth to argue on that, closing it followed by a nod when she realized he had a very valid point. If he waited until the last minute she'd be mad. At least now she had time to prepare. Prepare for what, she wasn't sure.

She finished dinner, barely because she was so nervous. Mulling over every possible infraction in her mind. Afterward, she and the others went back to their dorm to pack for the break. She had already packed, but went up to her room to ensure she hadn't forgotten anything she wanted to bring with her. That done, she brought an interesting looking book on centaur history she'd found to read to the common room to wait until nine o'clock.

It was nine o'clock and Hermione was standing in front of the door outside her head of house's office. She was nervous and anxious. She'd hardly been able to focus on anything she'd read. And that wasn't like her. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was in trouble for something. And for something far worse than the jinx on the DA contract. Surely, though Harry would be in just as much trouble as she was if that was it. She'd tried to get him to tell her anything, but he insisted he didn't know. And that made her stomach churn.

So what could the headmaster (and Hermione still considered him the headmaster, no matter what Umbridge said or did) possibly want with her? She still couldn't figure it out. More than halfway through her fifth year of education at Hogwarts, and he'd really hardly spoken to her. Other than about the time turner her third year she couldn't even think of a time he had. Even that had been primarily handled by Professor McGonagall.

Finally she knocked, realizing she was going to be late if she kept putting it off. He invited her, so there had to be a reason.

"Come in," came her head of house's cheerful voice.

It didn't sound forcefully cheerful either. She had the opportunity over the years to notice the various inflections her voice took on. She smiled a little at that familiar voice. She was here. She knew what was going on. Maybe Hermione could ask her for a hint or something before they went to see the headmaster.

She pushed the door open slowly and took a deep breath.

"Good evening, Professor. You asked to see me."

She stepped inside, saw Professor McGonagall grab for Hermione's arm as the door shut behind her. This was followed almost immediately by "Don't let go, Hermione". If it hadn't been her head of house saying that she probably would have. She trusted the woman, though. She barely had the chance to realize she'd called her by her given name.

Barely had the chance because almost immediately she felt the unsettling pull of portkey travel. She recognized it only because she still found it discombobulating to travel in such a manner. More discombobulating than traveling by airplane, knowing you were thousands of miles above ground, in her opinion.

Suddenly, they stopped. The only thing she knew for certain was that she wasn't in her head of house's office anymore. She had no idea how they'd accomplished it, but she wanted to know. Did Professor McGonagall have the portkey in her hand? Shouldn't she have to hold onto the portkey item, too? How were they able to portkey out of Hogwarts?

Looking around once she felt settled, she realized they were in an office. It wasn't Professor McGonagall's nor one she'd ever seen at Hogwarts. And they had to be outside of Hogwarts, otherwise a portkey wouldn't have been necessary.

"Ah, there she is. Prompt as expected. Thank you for coming, Miss Granger. It's lovely to see you," the headmaster said with no explanation of the fact that she was standing in a different room than she started just a moment ago. "I'm glad Harry relayed my message to you," he said.

"He did, and it's nice to see you, too, Sir," she said, as her eyes darted around the room. He didn't sound upset with her. So that made her wonder again why she was here.

She noticed Professor Snape was in the room as was her head of house. So, she hadn't imagined seeing Professor McGonagall. Why were the two of them here? What could he need with her that would involve Professor Snape?

What had happened?

If the headmaster was here, with whom she got the impression were his two most trusted members of the staff, that could not be good. And then she remembered that the headmaster had asked to see just her. He'd already seen Harry.

Suddenly she felt sick to her stomach.

Oh God!

She was going to be sick. The room started spinning, she heard the sound of blood rushing in her ears, and her heart was pounding at the very thought of something having happened to her mum and dad. Happened to them as a result of something she did, in a world they didn't even truly understand.

"My parents…"

"Are fine, my dear," Minerva said, scowling at Albus. She rushed to Hermione's side, settling her hands against her shoulders. She imagined the gesture was supposed to be comforting, but Hermione didn't find it to be so at the moment. "I told you just springing this on her was not a good idea, Albus. Her mind does not work like most peoples. Not everyone enjoys being whisked away."

"Forgive me, Miss Granger. I truly didn't mean to startle or concern you. I know it's the night before Easter holidays, and you likely have packing and things to do before you head to the Weasleys, but this may take a while. I tried to choose an evening that would not interfere too severely with your studies. Doing so around others who may report any sightings of me has proven difficult. So, bringing you to me seemed the best way to handle it. I also wanted you to not be missed. Miss Pince might have noticed your absence any other evening, but I'm told likely not tonight."

"I'm already packed, so I was just going to read a book on centaur history I found," she said politely. She was trying not to sound confused. If not her parents. Then what?

Professor Snape snorted none too quietly or politely, to which she glared at him as a result. It wasn't her fault she actually liked studying and succeeding in her schoolwork! What was he even doing here? What could he possibly have to do with anything to do with her? Minerva gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze she assumed was meant to be reassuring. She had to admit, this time, it was.

Somewhat.

She doubted she'd truly feel reassured until she knew why she'd been called here. That her parents really were okay. And that she wasn't being expelled.

"Good, good," the headmaster said. "Minerva, please take Hermione into the other room. Severus and I will join you both momentarily, as it looks as though he has a few last minute things to say before we get on with our meeting."

"Of course," Minerva said. With a sharp glance at both men and a shake of her head, she crossed in front of the headmaster.

Hermione missed the comfort of her hands almost immediately. She led Hermione into a sitting room off the office they were in. It was quaint. Certainly not big enough for a slew of people, but for just the four of them as it appeared to be, it was spacious enough.

She looked to Professor McGonagall who seemed to be avoiding doing the same, which was very odd behaviour. Hermione had always gotten the impression that Professor McGonagall liked her company. What was going on? If nothing had happened to her parents, why was she here? Maybe she was just being slow for a change? She really couldn't figure it out.

She heard Professor Snape and the headmaster talking in hushed tones from the other room, but couldn't decipher what they were saying. So, that wasn't getting her any information. Eventually, their voices grew a little louder, enough Hermione potentially could hear what they were saying. She just didn't understand it. Professor McGonagall's lips thinned as she shook her head with a frustrated sounding exhale.

"Quit trying to convince yourself that there is a chance in hell that this will work. I have already given you my answer, damn it all. I have agreed as I always do, Headmaster." Professor Snape's tone was not kind, complimentary, or respectful with that last word. "Let's just get on with this. I hope that you have a contingency plan for catastrophic circumstances up your sleeves, Albus, because I am telling you that this will not work. She will never agree to your hair brained scheme," she heard Professor Snape say from the other room.

"You have such little faith, Severus. She is a bright witch. I have faith that intellect will make her see reason. So, I believe that she will."

"You are delusional, old man. She hates me," Snape said, and she could hear the venom in his voice with those three little words. "There is no way that she will even consider it. I say again, I do very sincerely hope that you have a backup plan. You seem to think I say that in jest, because, mark my words, you will need it."

"Then why did you agree if you think it won't happen?"

"Because I will not let it be said that it was my fault! That the world went even more to shite because I said no to this ridiculous scheme of yours. You'd only hold that over my head, too, for the rest of my days. I won't give you even more ammunition toward being your whipping boy."

"Severus," Albus said. The other room grew quiet then. Hermione wondered what wasn't being said between them right now. So the headmaster had an idea it seemed. To what end? "Let's find out then, shall we? No stone unturned as they say."

Professor Snape entered the room first, scowling, robes all billowy, and, it seemed, refusing to look at her. Or Minerva, so she tried not to take it personally. She huffed softly with a roll of her eyes in response. Being rude wasn't going to sway her to agreeing to whatever the headmaster's idea was.

Did he know that she could hear them?

Did he care?

What was more.

He was wrong.

She didn't hate him.

He was moody. He could be quite cruel, yes. She'd borne the sharpness of his tongue personally more than once. He was also more than just a bit of a git at times, though she'd never say that to anyone. Even Harry and Ron.

She'd never be that disrespectful.

It was difficult to be as nice to him as she was to her other professors, though. She always showed him respect. At least she thought she did. She tried to at any rate. He was her professor and, in her opinion, the smartest one she had.

So, no she didn't hate him. She just wished, like her other teachers, he was willing to teach her everything she wanted to know, which was everything that he knew. She could learn so much from him! So he frustrated her.

The headmaster followed and closed the door behind him. This was followed by a soft pop that Hermione recognized as being a silencing charm. A very powerful one. Not surprising, given the three other magical people were in the room.

"Thank you for your patience. Severus and I had some last minute … details to iron out. As you are aware, things are not good, Miss Granger."

"Of course I'm aware. The school year started with Harry almost getting expelled, and has gone pretty much downhill from there."

Had he called her here to state the obvious? Did he think she was stupid, and hadn't noticed what was happening?

"I was able to get Harry cleared of the charges as you are of course aware, but I'm afraid the Ministry," he shook his head. It was the first time she'd ever really seen his eyes reflect seriousness. He always seemed to be good natured and happy. That wasn't there now.

"Has its head up their collective arses," Professor Snape said from his spot in a corner.

The wizard did not look happy. Then when did he ever look happy? She tilted her head a bit, thinking over that question.

He looked happy when taking points, sometimes, but not all of the time. There certainly had to be more to him than that? Didn't there? What a horrible existence if there wasn't!

"As Professor Snape has so impolitely, and not very poignantly, stated in the presence of ladies, yes. It is an accurate assessment. As you know, Professor Umbridge was assigned to Hogwarts by Minister Fudge."

"I'm aware," Hermione said, unable to keep her dislike for the woman from coming through. 

Forget everything else she'd done that was horrid. She hurt and scarred her best friend!

And as for the Minister for Magic.

Well, Hermione hated to think ill of people in charge, but he was nothing more than a buffoon whose inability to believe Voldemort was truly back was just allowing the maniac to gain numbers and power freely. If he'd acted quickly, immediately after the Triwizard Tournament, he likely wouldn't have been able to assemble more into his ranks. Or at least not easily.

Really, what good was it for Harry or the headmaster to lie about Voldemort's return? What did that gain them? Panic and fear? Harry wouldn't want that. She couldn't speak for the headmaster, but didn't get the impression he wanted that either.

"I assure you that you are not the only one with a less than favourable opinion of her. I could not get rid of her, as much as I may have wanted to. And now, well, my hands are truly tied. I have to bide my time until I can return. And I will return, Miss Granger. Unfortunately, I'm afraid this year is only the beginning, a precursor of things to come if you will, if I don't do something to stop it now. I love Hogwarts, its staff, its students, and the magical world as a whole too much to let it get further than her. No matter the outcome of the war and no matter who takes over from Minister Fudge, the Ministry will micromanage Hogwarts' headmaster for a long time to come. Some may believe it's deserved, however, the students deserve privacy and a sense of freedom as well."

"Okay," Hermione said with a frown.

He wasn't wrong. She was just still confused. What did any of this, the Ministry being a bunch of imbeciles and Umbridge being here, have to do with her? Her curiosity was giving way to irritation. She just wanted to know why she was here!

"As you may be aware I'd suspected for some time that Tom's return was inevitable."

"Yes," she said simply, glancing from the headmaster to her two professors.

Neither were giving anything away. Professor McGonagall was still looking concerned, though. Snape, on the other hand, looked bored. She doubted he was. She sensed he was more aware and attentive than she gave him credit for.

She was there when it was revealed Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort. She'd been there for all of it. Had he forgotten? She was so confused, and she hated feeling that way because it was extremely abnormal for her.

Thus her irritation.

She couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Sir, I'm sorry if this comes across as rude, but I'm at a loss. What does any of this have to do with me?"

Professor Snape scoffed again.

"And is there a reason he's here scoffing and scowling at me? I am not in his classroom, and was invited here. Rather, I was whisked away here without my permission. I shouldn't be subjected to it when I was called here, on my free time, the night before holidays start."

"You're right, of course, and there is a point, Miss Granger. I apologize for Severus. He's obviously left his manners at home today. Severus, stop trying to scare the witch."

He scowled, but turned his back to the three of them, taking a few steps to look out a window with a shake of his head. There were no more scoffs to be heard.

"As I was saying, and going toward answering your question as to what it has to do with you. I had come up with various plans of attack, some were more far fetched than others. I've had time to think of many. Several I dismissed as impractical or just involving too much risk. Some were more … dangerous than others. And some were ideas that just weren't plausible even for a wizard such as myself to carry out. We have reached a point where I believe that one of the more far-fetched, and possibly dangerous, ideas might be called for."

"Okay," she said, knowing she sounded both intrigued and cautious.

"You are aware of Tom's past? How we got to this point nearly seventy years later?"

"Yes, Sir," she said with a nod.

She'd researched everything that she could find in books and previous Daily Prophet articles as well as Hogwarts' yearbooks. She wouldn't say she was an expert on Tom Riddle exactly, but she'd certainly armed herself with as much knowledge as she could about the man Harry seemed destined to face a second time.

"Good," the headmaster nodded as if he'd expected this answer from her. "So you are aware that he was an orphan, born at an orphanage with his mother dying shortly after his birth so he never knew a home. He had no parents or a stable life. Times were tough then, as I'm sure you've read in history books. I imagine he went to bed more often than not starving, and with no hope for that changing the next morning. Or the next. Orphanages were not pleasant places. Honestly, if Tom hadn't come to Hogwarts, I've often wondered if he would have been sold . Irrelevant, as he did come to Hogwarts, but it wasn't unheard of for that to happen to children, especially those who would not be missed. Most importantly, Miss Granger, at least I believe it to be. He never knew or had love. Things someone like yourself takes for granted. For Tom, even his conception was a deceitful event."

"I suppose," she said, nipping at her lower lip.

She'd never quite thought about it from that perspective. He was just a mass murderer she was researching to help her best friend. She never stopped to really give him an excuse for being the way he was. She never stopped to think of what his childhood must have been like. She knew he was born during the Depression.

She wouldn't say that she took anything for granted, certainly not after meeting Harry and Ron. She was aware of the things she had access to that they didn't. Maybe she was slow on the uptake because it was the end of the week, and she was in vacation mode. She still wasn't seeing where she had anything to do with this.

Harry had been raised without those things, and he wasn't a raging psychopath.

"You're thinking about Harry, I can see it in your eyes. It would be where my mind would go, too, if I was you. Harry did know love, though, even if he cannot remember it. He was created from it. He's alive to this day because of it. And coming here, to Hogwarts, he gained it, as well as belonging, in you and Mr. Weasley. Among others. Tom never got that here, through his own fault in some ways. He was difficult. He never had it to begin with, though. He literally had no one. His father was deceived into being with his mother, so even his conception was surrounded by dark magic rather than true love."

"I'm aware," Hermione said, not wanting to have those facts rehashed. She didn't want to feel sympathy for the man. She really didn't. Lacking those things didn't excuse his behaviour or him wanting her dead merely because her parents weren't magical.

She knew how Tom Riddle came to exist. She wasn't sure how much she believed in true love or anything, honestly, but the idea of a spell making her love someone was abhorrent. She liked to think if she ever decided to marry it would be with all of her faculties in place. (Not that Tom Riddle, Sr. was aware his faculties had been toyed with.)

"Of course you are," the older wizard said with a smile. "Back to it then. I had an idea, you see, of sending two people back to give him those things: home, family, stability, a good example to look to and want to emulate, proper guidance and tutoring in all aspects of life but certainly magic. They would be able to comfortably expose him to things muggle as well as magical. Most importantly. Love. Some say one conceived in the way he was cannot be redeemed. I want these two to attempt to prove that theory wrong."

Her eyes widened. Not at the last part of what he said. She understood his point completely. If they could change his upbringing, all that was happening might be avoided.

No, that wasn't what she was surprised at. He was suggesting this was a possibility, a sincere plan.

Was time travel to 1926 even possible? That was almost seventy years ago if he was talking about going back to the day Tom Riddle was born.

"I see the question in your eyes, Miss Granger. Is that even possible, you're asking. I applaud you for going to that question first. And the answer is, yes. I have access to a time turner that would make that possible. That was not my problem with going forward with this particular plan. My problem was that Tom is, and was, a very intelligent person. Crafty. Cunning. Keen. You name it, he has it in spades. I cannot send a couple back to him who are unable not only to support that intelligence, but who are not intelligent enough themselves so as not to be taken in by him or walked all over by him. Trust me when I tell you that he is one of the most clever people I have met. That was true even when I first met him at the age of eleven. I'm hoping if we start from the beginning, the very beginning not from when I first met him, that will … change and prevent this future that we have currently from ever happening. I'm not as young as I was seventy years ago. I have limitations, physical and otherwise, that I did not have during that time."

That time was dealing with Gellert Grindelwald, of course. She'd never stopped to think about how very tired the headmaster must be. He'd been involved in war for almost fifty years of his life. Granted, it was somewhat peaceful between 1981 and 1995, but there was still a lot going on she knew. There was still a lot of hate. Voldemort hadn't disappeared the first time leading to those who'd followed him to realize they'd made a mistake. No, there were still many who believed in his plan, liked his rhetoric, and wanted blood purity. And he'd suspected the dark wizard hadn't truly been defeated for good so was constantly watching for the signs that had occurred in 1991 of his attempted return finally happening.

"Okay," she said.

A sinking feeling was beginning to form in the pit of her stomach. She'd hear him out, but she had an idea where this was going.

And as a result, finally, a clue as to why she was here.

"Severus, of course, came to mind. As Miss Umbridge seems to be focusing on him currently, I thought it would be a good time to bring Professor Slughorn back. For various reasons, I cannot have anyone's attention on Severus, certainly not Miss Umbridge's. Pulling him from his position is out of the question while he's still physically here, for reasons I cannot say. Horace is more than capable of doing the bare minimum the job requires, which seems to be what Miss Umbridge wants in Hogwarts' staff."

"Right, of course, I'm not sure I've met anyone as intelligent and capable as Professor Snape, Sir. He is a more than logical choice."

She wasn't being a brown nose either. She truly believed what she just said to be true. It was the reason she got so frustrated with him at times. She remembered solving his riddle in her first year, wanting to meet the person who'd created it. He'd never once acknowledged it to her.

Now as to love, and being a good role model. Well, she didn't know about that, but had to believe the headmaster wouldn't think of her potions professor for this task if he didn't think he would work. He was the head of Slytherin, so he must have some grasp on things like that. The headmaster trusted him, obviously, to guide Slytherin students.

The headmaster smiled at her, the visible twinkle in his eye suggested he was both amused and impressed. Professor Snape was not only looking at them again, but staring at her. She no longer saw anger and dismay in his eyes, but something akin to incredulity.

She'd surprised him. She sat up a little straighter at that realization. She didn't think many people surprised him.

Well, take that Professor Snape.

You may be a prat to the upteenth degree and a git sometimes for no reason at all, but you are smart.

She wasn't going to deny that she'd recognized that in him their very first potions class almost five years ago now.

"The problem then became someone who could, shall we say, compliment Severus while offsetting, or making up for, his shortcomings. And it was the reason this idea has been shelved since I thought of it. As you may have noticed, Professor Snape is not the … warmest staff member at Hogwarts."

Hermione laughed then. She couldn't help it. That was one of the biggest understatements she'd ever heard. The laughter probably came from nerves more than actual amusement, though.

This conversation was just too bizarre.

Professor Snape was back to glaring at her. Her head of house was oddly silent through all of this, which made the sinking feeling in Hermione's stomach increase. Her head of house knew, too. She likely knew before Hermione had ever been asked to come here. And had been told she couldn't warn her. Professor McGonagall would not like that.

"So, intelligence, softness, and warmth, but not a pushover, mind you. Someone who knows when it's appropriate to speak her mind. Someone who will make a good mother. The witch would be required as well to at least have the knowledge so that she can appear to be of good breeding in the eyes of the wizarding world. A witch people could look at as being part of this couple and, while they may not understand how it came to be exactly, could see that the match made sense. No matter how odd they may find it. That is key. It must be convincing. If Tom's future is to change, it must start from the beginning, which would of course start with the parents not just appearing to care for one another but being accepted and belonging by society."

Hermione blinked rapidly, her eyes drifting to Professor Snape. She didn't want to admit it because he had never been pleasant, but she could see that it would make sense if the headmaster's choice was her. Obviously, though, she was wrong on why she was here as she wasn't of age yet. So, that had to take her out of the running.

Didn't it?

So, yes, it would make sense.

If she were older.

If he weren't a git.

If she weren't a muggleborn witch.

If …

Well, if a lot of things, but she could acknowledge that she had noticed his intelligence more than just a handful of times. And his dry wit, when not aimed at her or her friends, was very clever. He was also handsome. Not in the movie star way many girls her age swooned over, but it was his whole … being. Confidence. Intelligence. Power. There was a reason the headmaster trusted him, trusted he was on their side. That was attractive in its own right.

So that brought her back to.

Why was she here? She obviously didn't fit the requirements and would not be suitable, being a muggleborn.

And why was she somewhat … disappointed by the realization that it could not be her?

Was Dumbledore looking for witches she knew of who might fit his requirements? She knew none. Her knowledge of witches consisted of the same ones they knew, and they likely knew them better than Hermione did. Other than Ginny and Luna maybe, but both were a year behind her. So, they would not be acceptable candidates.

As if he knew she was trying to puzzle it out and straying down the path toward the conclusion that she wasn't his choice, the headmaster spoke.

"That witch is you, Miss Granger."

She blinked rapidly.

Had she just heard him say that?

Silence.

The headmaster was obviously expecting her to say something, so she evidently had heard him actually say that.

Professor Snape looked as if he expected her to get up and storm out of the office immediately.

Okay, so she hadn't been wrong with her first instinct. She felt a little giddy at the realization that she was the headmaster's choice.

She still wasn't seventeen.

Her eyes darted from Professor Snape back to Headmaster Dumbledore. He was smirking, though he tried to hide it. His eyes, though, gave way to his amusement. Maybe amusement was the wrong choice in words. His pleasure that she hadn't stormed out, as Professor Snape obviously expected her to, at the mere suggestion of this plan including her.

This plan including her meant she would be his wife.

Of all the witches available to them, they - the headmaster - had chosen her.

And her potions professor was evidently willing to go along with the plan, if she was.

That was what the argument she'd heard from the other office was about. It had to be, didn't it? He'd accepted, but assumed she would say no. Not a totally crazy assumption on his part. Except she wasn't one to back down from a challenge. Did he want her to say no? Did he assume her saying no would be the reason this plan was thwarted? That would mean they had no one else in mind but Professor Snape and her.

Professor Snape was a bit older than she was.

He wasn't ancient, but old enough to where she would think that they'd stand out. How did the headmaster think they could pull it off? Then seventy years ago, the age difference probably wouldn't have been so big of a deal. Age gaps were fairly normal back then she knew.

Her mind kept going back to one question.

Why her? What about her would make anyone think she'd offset any of Professor Snape's harshness and cynicism?

She was not a miracle worker!

Okay, two questions.

He didn't like her.

Why would he agree to the plan knowing the headmaster's choice was her? Did he think she could do what the headmaster wanted from her? He must, or he wouldn't have agreed to it. Even if he believed she would say no, there was always a chance she would say yes.

She opened her mouth to say something. The headmaster held up his hand, stopping her. She bit her lower lip, nodding to tell him she would refrain from talking. She had a slew of questions, so many that she paused in asking, only because she was trying to decide which one should be asked first.

"Now you know what she's like in class," Professor Snape said from the corner to which the headmaster chuckled.

"Indeed, Severus. I can see how that might be troublesome for you, when every other student pays little attention to your chosen field."

He returned his attention to her then.

"I see your mind working, and that you've finally caught up to the fact that what I'm saying is legitimate. You've moved on now to the wanting answers phase. Let me finish, and then I will give you time to think about it, and discuss with Professor McGonagall, or Snape if you prefer. The decision will have to be made tonight, though, before you leave here. If you decline I will have to obliviate this conversation."

"Right, of course," she said, giving an instinctive shiver at the idea.

She didn't like the thought of someone toying with her mind at all. She didn't care if the spell was done every day all over the world in wizarding society. She didn't care how capable Headmaster Dumbledore was at doing any number of spells.

She wanted her mind intact, thank you very much.

Would the headmaster know that? Would he think that would increase the odds she'd say yes?

She couldn't say he was wrong.

"I want to lay it out for you, Miss Granger. Even the night before holidays, our time is limited. I will try to address everything, but if I leave anything out by all means let me know. Okay?" His eyes twinkled with the question. As if he found it amusing to be asking her permission. She found it a bit amusing, too. As if she would say no?

"Yes, of course, Sir."

"Good. Thank you."

He nodded as he shifted on the chair he'd chosen, seeming to get comfortable. She smiled a bit at that gesture, it was something she'd seen her grandfather do probably a hundred times in her life. Her grandfather's chair of choice was a recliner with the remote control on his lap and a bowl of shelled peanuts (with the skins left on) on the table next to him.

"Now, as I indicated you would be going back seventy years. You would not return. Ever," he held up his hand here. "Correction. Obviously you could get to 1996 again, but you would be on the verge of turning eighty-seven if and when you do get to this date again, life allowing. I should have said that you would not be able to return to this time ahead of life's normal progression. You would be responsible for saving a child's soul."

His eyes drifted briefly to Professor Snape, and she wondered if that was a silent clue suggesting that they (she?) might be trying to save two souls.

There was an interesting thought. Was Professor Snape his choice because this trip would be good for him as a person? If he was on the side of the Order, as the headmaster seemed to imply to people. Not that he'd ever told Hermione that. She wasn't old enough to be in the Order yet, but she knew for a fact that her potions professor had been at Order meetings. She'd heard things Remus and Sirius said about him. So, if the headmaster trusted him. Well, he'd turned spy, which meant he had been a death eater and on Voldemort's side at one time. When had he turned spy? Before Harry was born? Certainly before his parents were killed.

Was the headmaster hoping she would give those same things to Severus Snape? That she was to make him believe he deserved them, too? That was a momentous task, if so. A baby would be born with a clean slate. She would not get that with Professor Snape.

The headmaster gave her a smile, suggesting he was aware her mind was taking her down a path that it didn't need to be doing right now. She was supposed to be listening to him, and this was rather important. The smile was followed by a slight, barely perceptible nod. As if it was meant only for her. Was he reading her mind? Was he telling her that she was right?

"And trying to prevent not one but two wars in the process as well as saving countless lives, muggle and wizarding alike. And some souls along the way, too, which may be more important. You would go back knowing that you would be the mother to Tom Riddle, and wife to Severus Snape. Those will not be the names you know them by if you agree to this. You will be equipped with a letter to my past self, but given the timing of when Tom was born, I will be busy. I will not be able to help much, other than the initial assistance the letter will ask of my past self."

"Of course," she murmured, knowing when Tom Riddle was born and the fact that that coincided with various confrontations with Gellert Grindelwald. She also imagined this version of Albus Dumbledore wouldn't tell his past self much. Too many cooks spoiling the broth and all that. She couldn't see where anyone but she and Severus would need specific information.

"Per my letter to myself, you will be married and set up in a nice wizarding home that will be unplottable," the headmaster got a somewhat melancholy look in his eyes while saying that and she imagined that there was a story there. "It is near muggles and, as such, there is a small but respectable dwelling near the road that passersby can see, but nothing more of the property. The rest of the property, including the dwelling muggles would not see, will cement your role in the wizarding world. One that will indicate you're of a good station in life, with proper monetary means, and allow no one to suspect you are a muggleborn witch. And they should not find out, Miss Granger. You could endanger this task, and Severus for that matter, if anyone discovers your blood status."

She stared, processing what he'd said so far, committing it to memory. She knew he wasn't done. She was trying not to fidget but this was a lot to put on even her. She didn't know everything about the pureblood way of life. It wasn't as if she was friends with any except the Weasleys, and they weren't the norm since they were considered blood traitors themselves.

"Severus has agreed, actually it was his suggestion so that your being accepted as a couple wouldn't be difficult or anything about you as a couple would appear unseemly, to take a deaging potion."

"Why?" she asked, eyes snapping to her professor. She wasn't sure she could picture him younger. Obviously, he had been. He hadn't been born thirty-six years old.

"We do not want there to even be the hint of impropriety as to your relationship, Miss Granger. Age differences weren't unheard of, but you are young enough that his reputation could be called into question if he looks his current age. I can hedge your age a little, but not by much I fear. It would not look good for someone applying for a position as a professor to show up at the age of thirty-six with a wife who would have been a student herself only a year ago."

"How far are you aging him back? Will he remember all of this? His life to this point?"

"I have created the potion, Miss Granger, and I will remember. Everything. I will just appear twelve years younger."

He created it. That meant he knew of this plan before tonight.

"So, twenty-four to my …?"

"We think you could get away with eighteen. Really, if your documents say you are that, who's going to question it?" the headmaster said. "Much older than eighteen, though, I think would be pushing believability. And people would have questions as to what you have done since school."

"Oh, right, I suppose," she said. That was a valid concern. And a rather depressing thought. She wouldn't finish her school. She wouldn't take her OWLs, or sit her NEWTs.

"If Severus wishes that I ask my past self to push Armando Dippet to replace the current potions professor with himself I will do so. He will be equipped with an impressive CV that shouldn't make that difficult. As well as my personal opinion, of course. They hired Horace a few years later, so it would seem whoever they had, and I'm sorry I don't recall who it was, was replaceable. Again, as I have mentioned I was rather preoccupied during the time we're discussing. Headmaster Dippet should be easy to convince to replace them since it doesn't seem to be anyone memorable or overly reputable. If he chooses another route, an apothecary or something that would be his choice."

"And me?"

"You are a little more difficult as I'm afraid you don't look much older than the soon to be seventeen years that you are. As I mentioned I think we could get away with eighteen, meaning appearances would suggest you'd be turning nineteen in September. I truly believe nineteen to twenty would be pushing it and Severus agreed with that assessment. Of course with a different wardrobe befitting that time period," he shrugged. "My younger self could have your birth documents altered if, once settled and outfitted accordingly, you both believe you could pass for older than eighteen."

She nodded, understanding. Honestly, as much as she might like to, she didn't think she looked much older than her age. Of course she also didn't really try. She wasn't one of those girls who wanted to appear to be twenty-one for whatever reason in an attempt to get an older guy to like her.

"So, with that being said. I thought that being a librarian would be an acceptable position for you. There was no one steadily employed in that position at Hogwarts at that time, so we wouldn't be displacing someone with years in on the job as Irma is. You love books and learning, and know the Hogwarts library better I wager than all except perhaps Irma and Severus. Severus could, of course, choose to tutor you so that you can do something else. I know that is not what you aspire to do. Unfortunately, I'm limited in what I can provide for you without NEWT scores or even OWLs. While I could probably arrange for you to sit the OWLs that would undo our aging you because someone would have to give them to you. I'm not sure that even you would be ready to sit your NEWTs a full two school years early. However, you and Severus could come up with an excuse if necessary as to why you didn't take your NEWTs in your seventh year. If you would rather try something in the Ministry, let me know and I will request my past self come up with a suitable CV for you as well to ensure you have the ability to qualify. Unfortunately, the muggle world would be out of the question."

"Even muggle university?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but yes. Bear in mind, too, this will be seventy years ago. The expectations of women…"

"Would be basically librarians, teachers, nurses, or homemakers," she huffed.

She knew that was the case. It didn't mean she had to like it or would not attempt to push the envelope even a little bit. She could work on that later.

"What of a muggle primary school teacher? Wanting to be near my son until he goes to Hogwarts?"

Albus seemed to think of this, eyeing Severus with a rather triumphant looking smile. She supposed her questions were an indication she was leaning toward accepting versus declining.

"You are intelligent enough that you should be able to homeschool Tom more than sufficiently, Miss Granger. You will have five years to adjust to the time period before he would start that education. Bear in mind, too, you will be primarily responsible for this exceptional child so working may not be something you even wish to do."

"And yet, he is wicked smart you're saying, and everything I've researched says that's true, so surely we would want to start sooner than the age of five."

The headmaster chuckled. "I think you and Severus would be able to make that decision when that time came."

"Would we raise him as adoptive parents?"

"I would leave that also up to you. I would not endeavour to tell you what to do day to day, Miss Granger. I will not be in your household, and quite honestly, I will truly have no way of knowing if you adhere to anything you might agree to do here today. My letter to my younger self is very broad. I cannot reveal facts to him, nor should you. So, as to whether you should tell Thomas the truth," he shrugged. "It is his past that led to so much of this, however, you may find you feel it is more appropriate. I trust you both, I wouldn't be asking you to do this if I didn't trust and have faith that you can carry this out."

"Wouldn't Professor Snape encounter his mother eventually?"

"He would, of course, as well as several others he knows and knows of. As I said, you would not be there as Hermione and Severus Snape. I have come up with identities for you both. You will have a Gringotts vault with a more than acceptable amount of money in it. The home I am setting you up in is furnished nicely. Even the domicile people can see from the road, while meager in appearance compared to the likes of Malfoy Manor, is respectable. My thought was to send you back to March 7, 1926. More than nine months before Tom is born. I know that I am here the weekend I'll be sending you back to, as I was most weekends. The date I've chosen will give you the ability to claim Tom as yours if you so choose. Any later and you'd have the stigma of being with child prior to marriage and, while we all know it happened, that would not do well for what we want. Acceptance. Fitting in. No scandals or the appearance of anything wrong or illicit having occurred."

"Right," Hermione said.

She understood that.

Even today, illegitimate children could be viewed as lesser than, especially in the wizarding world. Even if they married a month after Tom's estimated time of conception there'd still be the stigma following them, and him, that they had sex outside of marriage.

Assuming people would look that closely, but the headmaster must be thinking someone (or someones) just might do that. She supposed they would be newcomers, so anything they did would be looked at. And certainly seventy years ago, the wizarding world would look upon that even worse than they did now.

Of course people had sex outside of marriage, more than likely back then they did, too!

"That would allow Severus to get in at Hogwarts if he chooses that route, or established elsewhere if he chooses a different one. It would give you the opportunity to set up your home, which I'm sorry to say will likely primarily fall on your shoulders, Miss Granger. I've seen Severus' version of an abode away from Hogwarts, and I'm not sure any woman's touch could improve upon his tastes."

Her lips twitched, fighting the urge to laugh in response to the twinkle in the headmaster's eyes at this. He was teasing, but she sensed there was some truth in what he said. Professor Snape didn't seem the type to stray far from the personality he presented to his classes. And that was very formal, utilitarian, and not very homey or welcoming.

Her professor said nothing, but there was an audible scoff heard from him. Professor McGonagall had been silent through all of this. No audible reactions whatsoever, reaffirming Hermione's belief that she already knew all of this.

"You would both have over nine months to establish your personalities there as you become more familiar with the time and the … climate. As well as one another, of course. And that is important, so no matter what Severus might say I'm telling you that you must present yourself when you do finally go out in public as in-love newlyweds who are overjoyed about your baby. Yours is not to be a marriage of convenience or arrangement. You would have time to get familiar with the orphanage so you can prepare for New Year's Eve, because no one can remember that Tom Riddle, or his mother, was ever there. Regardless of what you tell him, we cannot have anyone recalling his mother's arrival or his birth. That will not do. And, in case you are wondering. No, you can't approach her sooner," he paused here, assessing her.

She had wondered that, doing something other than getting him from the orphanage. It would be a logical thing to do. To avoid that end entirely. Surely they could think of something.

"I'd thought of that, Miss Granger. You could pose as a midwife or something, but that would not do. She may survive if she gets proper medical care, and we do not want that. I apologize if that sounds heartless or callous, but I am speaking in facts. I don't know what his mother's survival would do. I do not believe anything good could come from such a change. And if she survives. That negates the purpose of you going back there. He would not have a good life with her. I assure you of that. I know those facts are distasteful, but think about Tom's father. The man she lied to. Some would say what she did to him was as unforgivable as any curse."

She swallowed, nodding a smidge. She understood. It went against everything she knew to not try to help the witch, but she understood. Their purpose was saving Tom Riddle's life and soul. They couldn't be assured of doing that if he was raised by anyone else. Or if someone else could come back and claim him one day in the future.

"You, Miss Granger, would have to remain out of view for the most part if you choose to act as Tom's actual parents. You could not be seen in October, say, not pregnant and expect people to believe two months later that you have borne a son. Again, that is for you two to decide."

That made sense. She understood. It was definitely something to think about as far as which path they might choose. Assuming she actually said yes. Glancing at Professor Snape, she still wasn't sure how she'd been thought of for this.

"How do you know this home will be available to us?"

"Because I'm familiar with where and when I'm sending you back, Miss Granger. So I'm aware of which homes were," he seemed to pause her as if choosing his words carefully. "Unoccupied at that particular moment."

"Yes, Sir, I don't mean to question you."

Professor Snape scoffed. She glanced at him, trying to avoid scowling in his direction. She didn't want to provoke him. The crisp black robes, covering every inch of him except his hands and head, made anyone question their sanity for doing so. She'd never seen him in anything that suggested approachability. They had to be his choice for a reason. To keep people away. To remain aloof.

From what she'd gleaned, he wasn't married or rumoured to have a partner in any capacity. He was thirty-six, the same age as Harry's parents, Remus, and Sirius. Presumably, he'd lived alone for the past eighteen years since leaving Hogwarts as a student.

This couldn't be easy for him. He'd agreed to this, but it was a huge deal. Nevermind upending his life and going seventy years into the past. Well, she was still currently his student. People said a lot of things about Severus Snape, but she had never once heard anything to indicate he behaved improperly with a student.

And now he was going to be married to one.

It didn't matter what they told the world. They'd both know for two more years she was supposed to be here at Hogwarts, learning.

"And Professor Snape has agreed to this?" she asked, sounding dubious even to herself. "He hasn't been bribed? He's not under the Imperius?"

The headmaster said he had, but she really found it hard to believe that he would. Especially with her as his … partner? This wasn't a short term assignment. This was the rest of their lives. Together. Not a marriage of convenience.

That could be more than one hundred years! It could be more than two hundred years!

That was a long time to pretend to get along with and love someone.

"Severus will do whatever it takes to prevent more death and destruction. He has been committed to that end for years now. Your extracurricular activities getting discovered was distressing. I decided it was time to act," the headmaster said, breaking into Hermione's thoughts about the possible longevity of this plan if she agreed to it.

Him mentioning their extracurricular activities did make her think of something, though.

The present. Her friends. Who would really believe she'd just disappear this far into this?

"And my friends? What will Ron and Harry be told? The other members of the DA?"

"They will be told that you were pulled from Hogwarts, as your parents received what we determined to be a viable threat. We offered to provide you, and them, with alternate identities and sent you off where you would be safe. We will not disclose anything more. For your safety, of course."

"And Professor Snape?"

"Well," Headmaster Dumbledore said.

She noticed the headmaster's eyes, normally rather jovial despite the events of late, looked rather sorrowful just now. This was followed by a tsk, as if this piece of the plan may actually be difficult for him. She'd never really had reason to see the two interact until now. It was clear that the headmaster was fond of Professor Snape, and thought that he knew him quite well.

"I suggested he just be rumoured to disappear. He thinks that would be too cowardly and far from in character for him, to either side. He wants to be reported as deceased."

"Sir?" Hermione said with a gasp.

Dead? He wanted to be considered dead? She didn't like that idea. She wasn't sure why exactly, but the idea of him being reported dead just didn't seem right. That seemed as if it was … tempting fate in a way one should not want to do. Not that it would matter. If they did this and succeeded. Well, no one would know but the two of them.

"That was my response as well. Bear in mind, however, Miss Granger. Hermione," he said, the twinkle back in his eyes again. "If you succeed, well, the events you are familiar with will not have occurred when you get to this date. None of them. You will be, in essence, rewriting history. And experiencing the differences first hand as they occur. Imagine being able to see that you've made a rather drastic difference in so very many things. Severus of that 1996, seventy years from your new starting point, will be alive and well. And hopefully better off for your efforts."

She nodded, her thoughts already having taken her there.

"May I have a moment to speak with Miss Granger alone, please, Albus? Minerva?"

"Miss Granger?" the headmaster asked.

"It's fine, thank you for asking," she said, not sure who she should be thanking exactly but she appreciated that neither wizard just assumed she wanted to be alone with him. Come to think of it, she'd never been alone with Severus Snape.

Professor McGonagall, who was quiet through all of this, got up to leave with the headmaster. Was she here just to witness the conversation and her accepting or declining the offer, to ensure that she wasn't coerced, Imperiused, or threatened into agreeing? The door closed behind them, and the pop of the silencing charm happened again.

He stared at her for a few moments. There was no scorn or hatred in his eyes. Curiosity maybe, but nothing bad. Normally that would be enough to make her giddy. Today it missed the mark.

Though…

She sat up straighter, prouder maybe, in her chair as a thought occurred to her. She thought of it briefly earlier, but the meaning behind it hadn't sunk in until just now. She'd been busy listening to the headmaster.

He'd agreed to this, knowing who he'd be going back with. He knew who the headmaster had in mind to be his wife. He evidently hadn't told Albus he was daft and that he had to find another witch or he wouldn't do this.

He'd agreed.

Did he like what he saw when he looked at her?

Did he find her attractive?

Under ordinary circumstances, that would probably bother her to think about, but these weren't ordinary circumstances. Were they?

She knew that without this … plan in play he wouldn't look at her like that, so it didn't bother her if he did take the time to consider whether he would find her an agreeable match when he was presented with the idea. That would have to be thought of. If he absolutely thought he didn't or couldn't, the plan wouldn't work.

Certainly, under ordinary circumstances she would not be put in a position to need to contemplate whether Severus Snape found her, or anyone for that matter, attractive. She'd never thought of him in that way, personally, wondering what he did outside of class or away from Hogwarts. The information she'd gathered about him had been to assist Harry, not for personal interest. Others did, she knew, and she usually shushed them, as it was none of their business. Did he have a witch hidden away somewhere? He must not if he was agreeing to this. She'd never seen him pictured with anyone in the Prophet or heard of stories being told about him in Witch Weekly .

Under ordinary circumstances she'd be going about her day as usual, getting ready to go home  - well, to the Weasleys' - for Easter holidays.

And yet, she could admit that there was a bit of an internal … pride that he'd agreed to this plan with her as a part of it. Finding her attractive was certainly an added bonus, but his agreeing meant he thought they could do this. That she could succeed. That she could make being his wife work. That she could be a mother to Tom Riddle. That she could keep a home, so that Tom could hopefully grow up to be a functioning wizard who contributed to society and not a sociopath.

That was immensely empowering. (Choosing to ignore the sociopath part of the thought.)

For all of his sarcasm and insults aimed at or about her. Of all the witches they could have chosen, she'd been chosen.

And he agreed.

That gave her confidence that she wasn't aware existed within her until this moment.

He may not like her now, but he wouldn't want this plan to fail anymore than she would. He wouldn't travel back seventy years and then go out of his way to ensure she loathed him.

That meant that he would at least try.

Didn't it?

He couldn't expect her to go through with this plan and accept him being a crabby arsehole to her for the rest of her life. Love was a two way street, and if he expected her to be good to him, he would have to be to her in reverse.

Would she fall in love with this man?

"You are actually considering this, Miss Granger?" he asked.

This stopped her current thought process from going further, which was probably for the best. Those thoughts would just drive her crazy, because she didn't have the answers. Then he was moving to sit near her. Not right next to her, but certainly closer than she'd ever been to him when he wasn't stalking about his classroom.

"Well," she said, nibbling on her lower lip. She'd never in nearly five years been this … close to him in what could be construed as a social setting (the circumstances for this meeting aside). It was disconcerting. Was that deliberate on his part? Did he think that she would realize exactly what she'd just concluded about him and his agreement to this plan, and want to dampen her internal pride just a smidge?

Where was that confidence boost she'd just felt a minute ago now that she actually had to talk to the man she was thinking about spending the rest of her life with?

"I mean, he has a point. If you are to be the father …"

"It might also have something to do with the fact that there aren't enough galleons in the world to offer most witches to contemplate being married to me."

"Oh, well, I wouldn't want money. I mean, obviously we need to survive, so I hope he'll provide us some so that we can start out. It sounds as if he's doing that."

"He is. I can show you the paperwork of what his intentions are for us financially if you wish."

"You believe he's providing sufficiently for us, and a child, to live comfortably?"

"I do," he said with a nod.

"Then I will take your word for it. I have never had to keep a home, so while I can think of things like water and electricity, food and furnishings, I'm sure there are things I'd never think of."

"I could just tell you that he is…"

"You could, but I trust that you don't want to go back seventy years and be destitute any more than I do. That seems a surefire way not to enact the change he's desiring. A poor child being raised in the same financial situation doesn't seem as if it would do much. I do believe in the power of love, but we still need to eat and keep warm."

He nodded then, stretching his feet out in front of him a bit as he regarded her. She did not look away, but kept her eyes at the level of his nose so that he couldn't use legilimency on her. She didn't think he'd do that without asking, but he would likely be wondering what was going through her head right now that she was actually contemplating agreeing to do this.

She knew she was wondering what was going through his mind.

He didn't need to see her train of thought as to why she was, in fact, likely going to agree. That was none of his business. At least at this moment.

"You do understand what marriage means, Miss Granger?"

Oh, he was going to play this card. She rolled her eyes, internally, though it was incredibly hard to stop herself from doing it where he could see it.

"Of course I do. I'm not daft!"

"And you want to be married to me?"

"Well, put like that, no," she said.

She held up her hand quickly. She knew how that sounded, and she knew how very … biting and insulting he could be. She didn't want this plan to start with him acting like an arse before it even officially began and her hating him for it.

"Before you get insulted and snap back with something nasty and unkind about being married to me being no picnic either that you cannot take back, let me finish answering your question. I don't particularly want to be married to anyone currently. I'm sixteen, and unlike many other witches, my goal was not to come here and find my future husband. However, that is not exactly up for discussion at the moment, is it? What I want, I mean. This is about saving the world. Saving lives. Saving a strong and capable wizard's soul, so that he'll be on the side of good not evil."

Possibly two capable wizard souls, she thought again as she regarded this man. This could potentially change things for him. It would certainly change his taking the Dark Mark. The him that would start Hogwarts as a student in 1971. Again.

He rolled his eyes.

"Selling yourself to the devil is more like it."

"Are you the devil then, Severus Snape?"

He scoffed. No reproach for using his first name. "I am not a pleasant man, Miss Granger."

"Hermione," she said.

"I'm sorry?"

"I think if we're contemplating being husband and wife…"

"I will not call you that."

She scowled with a roll of her eyes. He was just being obstinate, she was sure of it. They were alone, no one else would know he addressed her as Hermione but her.

She sighed.

Pick your battles, Hermione. This is not the hill to die on at this moment in time. At this moment in time, you are still his student.

"Fine. I mean, I hope that you will one day, as it is my name. As to your statement, I know that you're not pleasant. I have been paying attention the past five years, you know."

She went over the various rumours she'd heard about their potions professor over the years. Most seemed incredibly farfetched.

She did not believe that he was a vampire or into bondage (willing participants or otherwise) or anything like that. That just seemed like people wanting to make him into something he wasn't. He was difficult and off putting so people liked to come up with reasons why he was that way. There was one thing she knew about his … temperament that made her question the wiseness in doing this.

"Are you going to beat me?"

"Of course not," his voice thundered in response. Oh, he didn't like that question at all. Interesting. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen his eyes display emotion before. Until now. "Physically or otherwise for that matter."

He'd found the question, the idea behind it, abhorrent.

"Good," she said. She didn't think he would, but he did seem to have a temper. So she had to ask.

That one word echoed her mental response to his answer. Onto the only other thing she would truly not be able to live with. She thought she could put up with a lot, but physical abuse and infidelity were not among them.

"Are you going to humiliate me by being disloyal? Unfaithful?"

He tilted his head, regarding her. She'd surprised him it seemed. The abuse question hadn't surprised him. He hadn't liked her asking it, but he hadn't viewed it as coming out of nowhere. It was a logical question to ask. Of course, she supposed he could say he wasn't going to and she'd never know he was lying.

Cheating, the expectation from her that he not engage in that behaviour did surprise him, though.

Interesting

"You would," he cleared his throat. And she actually thought she saw some colour on his cheeks. Was Severus Snape blushing? Bestill her heart and stop the presses. "Expect loyalty? Fidelity?"

"Of course I would. I'm not hauling my arse seventy years ago for you to make me feel lesser than, disrespect me, and make a fool out of me, thank you very much."

"That would mean…"

"That I'd have to be a wife to you in every way. I am aware. Again, I'm not daft. I will not go back seventy years basically alone and have an in-name-only marriage, Severus Snape! Nor will I go back seven decades to have you embarrass or humiliate me in such a fashion. I'm not saying that we have to love one another or consummate tomorrow, but if I am going to do this, well, then you are going to do it, too. We are going to do it. Together. I will be patient with you while you learn to be a husband, and I hope a kinder version of yourself, if you can be patient with me while I gain my footing in those types of matters. I assume you wouldn't want to immediately to begin with, given my age."

"Correct."

"However, if you think between now and the time we do, you can live like Casanova. I will not tolerate that, Sir."

His eyes were cold as he assessed her. The blush was mostly gone, but there was still a very subtle hint of colour where, prior to these topics they were discussing, there had been none. She liked it there she realized. He cleared his throat softly.

"Are you going to pester me constantly with questions for the rest of my life?"

Her knee jerk reaction to the question was to scratch back. She refrained though, instead watching him for a moment before answering. She tried to determine the … meaning or implication behind his question. She'd never paid his eyes much attention before. Why would she? She'd never been close enough to do so.

They were dark, the closest to black she'd ever seen. Still, they weren't emotionless.

He looked … amused.

Was he making a joke?

Interesting.

Would he like knowing that she figured out that was his intent behind the question instead of a possible slight or insult.

"I'm sure that I will, Sir."

She chuckled softly. He knew very well that she would. It was in her nature to be inquisitive. She suspected it was in his, too. That thought was what made her think that he had been joking. It was also the reason she believed they could do this.

"Are you going to answer them?"

He stood then.

She watched him in a manner she hadn't before now.

Twenty minutes ago, he had just been Professor Snape. Now he was going to be her husband. Unless Headmaster Dumbledore returned to the room and said he decided she wasn't a viable choice or that he'd changed his mind about doing this at all.

She knew why she was doing this.

She really, when it got down to it, had nothing to lose. She wasn't even seventeen yet. She had no career or anything. She'd never even lived on her own. Hogwarts was the closest she'd come to being independent. She'd been so focused on the current events to even think about what she might want to do when she finished Hogwarts. So, if she lived her life now or seventy years ago, it really didn't matter. Did it?

He, though, was closer to forty than thirty. He had a career. He was, maybe not well liked, but he certainly was respected in his field from what her research revealed. As she thought earlier, it seemed he'd been living alone since 1978.

Why would he be willing to do this? To go from living alone to having a wife overnight, and then a baby nine months later was quite the difference in lifestyles.

"I can abide by the loyalty and fidelity. Just as you wish not to be made a fool of, I do not either. One thing I've discovered over my years of observing pureblood society. They always know. It may go unspoken. You may believe it's swept under the rug, but others always know who's doing what. They talk. They judge. Opinions are shared. Children suffer from those judgments, through no fault of their own. I would endeavour for once in my life to be treated and seen with respect. So, I would expect the same in return, of course."

"You think that I would cheat?"

"You are a young, attractive, intelligent witch…"

She stood then, crossing to him and took a huge chance. She settled her hand over his forearm.

His right one. She didn't want to think about the left one, even if she was just touching him through his robes.

"I would not do that. I'm not built that way."

She wasn't. He probably knew that, too. She would not commit to something with the intention of betraying that commitment. Those vows. She didn't think he'd agree to doing this with someone he believed couldn't keep that commitment.

"Why are you even thinking about agreeing to this? You have your entire life to live," he asked. His eyes drifted to her hand on his arm but he didn't shake it off or berate her for touching him.

That was good. She almost expected him to remove it.

She wore no robes. It was the night before holidays. No one wore them. She thought it'd seem suspicious if she put them on. The sweatshirt she wore was a bit large so the cuff covered most of the back of her hand so only her fingers were really visible. They looked so pale against the black of his robes she noticed.

"So do you, Sir. You're thirty-six not eighty." She shrugged. "It seems like a viable plan. If I thought otherwise I wouldn't even contemplate agreeing to it. I suspect you wouldn't have either, certainly not to the point of approaching me about doing it. I mean, if we're going to change things, and the headmaster has the means to go so far back. Well, it seems logical to go back to the beginning and try to prevent him from ever becoming evil. To get him to use that genius mind of his to be a useful and productive member of wizarding society."

He drew away, turning from her. She imagined it was due to what he was about to say more than wanting more space between them. His posture grew more rigid, tense. He glanced over his shoulder at her. She braced herself for what was to come.

"And if we don't? Prevent it from happening, I mean?"

He didn't like having to pose the question. She could tell. Something in the way he stood, his posture, told her that what he was asking her to agree to, bothered him. And that made her like him. He wasn't going into this expecting to have to end the life of a child.

She shrugged. She'd thought of that while the headmaster was talking, too. There was a huge ‘what if' left unspoken. Generations of inbreeding could lead to him being crazy and psychotic no matter what the two of them did for him. Add into the mix being conceived under a love potion. There may be no stopping him from being evil. Was he truly born that way? Would love, stability, a proper education, and family change anything at all?

"Well, we'd have an incredibly difficult decision to make then, wouldn't we?" she asked.

His eyes widened just a bit. Her answer surprised him. He'd expected her not to approach this from a realistic standpoint, to have a romantic and probably moral approach to this.

"You could do that?" he asked.

He was looking deeply into her eyes. What was he looking for, she wondered? Something to know if she was lying?

"Would I want to? Of course not, but we're talking hundreds of lives being saved, and a magical world still essentially healing from Grindelwald being torn apart once again by fear, hate, and two wars. I mean it was less than thirty years from Grindelwald's defeat and He Who Must Not Be Named's beginnings. For that matter, he was clearly plotting things as early as his time as a student at Hogwarts. We will have our memories. So, we will know what is to come if we get any hint of him being evil."

"If we raise him as our son, tell him that he is our son, the expectation would be another one…"

She chuckled softly. Oh you silly man . She knew what he was trying to do here. "Not everyone has more than one, but yes I realize that might be a possibility if I agree to this."

He nodded simply. She got the impression he was testing her more than anything, seeing if these … suggestions would scare her off. She hadn't been scared off by the subject of murder. So, he went with a more personal issue … sex. She was scared, she'd be stupid not to be. It was an incredibly scary idea. Just not of him necessarily. It was mostly the unknowns and there were a lot those.

Entering into a scheme where they might have to end a life.

They were also going to a time where she'd really have little as far as rights, and he could really do whatever he wanted to her.

She had to agree with the headmaster, though.

This could work.

They could save the world, several lives, and a person's soul. Possibly two? Was that not a worthy endeavour? A worthy thing to commit her life to?

Granted, it wasn't something either of them would be able to have engraved on their tombstones or anything, but if this worked. They could take to their graves that they helped save the world. Maybe people would view her as just a librarian, if she took that route, and him as just a potions professor, but they'd know.

Was that enough for him?

Until this moment, she wouldn't have thought it would be for her.

Long before she came here and was called the cleverest witch of her age, her parents told her she could do anything. This certainly would be anything, just in a very private way. There would be no fanfare or recognition. She was, oddly (or maybe not) okay with that.

"I presume you're leaning toward teaching at Hogwarts. It doesn't sound as if the headmaster is going to tell his younger self much, so he likely wouldn't warn him about Tom, or what to look for while he's a student here."

"I would assume that's correct. He wouldn't want to mess with things, more than he is. Too many people knowing facts would be dangerous, and he knows his younger self well enough to know it may not be information he should have. I do think teaching here would be the best course of action, yes."

She knew as well as he obviously did that they weren't actually in Hogwarts currently. She wasn't sure where she was, and she did get here from Hogwarts via magical means. So here worked, and he apparently knew she'd understand what he meant.

She agreed with his thinking. It was what he knew, teaching. He was good at it, when he wasn't being a git. And it would be the best way to keep an eye on Tom during the time he committed his first murder. As well as the years leading up to it. Otherwise, he'd be away from them for months out of the year. How could they possibly know if they were making a difference if no one knew what to look for to keep them informed of any misbehaviour on his part? Or generally concerning occurrences around Hogwarts?

If he didn't pursue the position now - well, as soon as they got to 1926 - he'd risk having to oust Horace Slughorn from the position. She didn't get the impression that would be a hardship exactly. She didn't know Professor Slughorn, but from the gossip she'd heard, he was more interested in collecting influential people than really teaching.

"Though if you went the apothecary route, I could do something more with my life than be a librarian," she said. She knew she sounded petulant, but she aspired to do great things. Her parents had raised her to do great things.

"There's nothing saying I couldn't do both," he said.

She lifted her eyes to meet his, surprised he would say that. That he would think about accommodating her. That was a good sign, wasn't it? A sign he wasn't going to be a git, and leave her to twiddle her thumbs out of boredom for seventy years?

"Why are you agreeing to this?"

He shrugged. It was a casual gesture, but there was nothing about this plan that was casual. How could he be so dismissive about completely changing the path of his life?

"I committed to Albus years ago to do what I could to defeat him, to work as a spy. This goes a little above what I expected to be part of my duties but, as you say, if it works it would save many."

More than a little. She'd say it went a lot above.

"And you'd be all right with me being the librarian? Being at Hogwarts with you?"

That might be more closeness than he was signing up for agreeing to this. That would mean that they'd be together essentially day and night. Of course, there was nothing saying that he'd have to come to the library, or that she had to go to his classroom during the day. There was plenty of space between their respective areas. There would be meals, though, and as husband and wife the expectation would be to sit near one another.

He scoffed. She wondered why. Did he find that amusing?

"Yes, I'd have no problem with that, but as Albus said you will not be able to do that for a while, until the school year following Tom's birth."

"Yes, I understand."

She did. That meant she'd have months to … Do what? She had no idea! Best not to think too deeply on her options, or she might be inclined to say no. Especially since if he was at Hogwarts during that time, she'd be home alone in a world she really didn't know. "Are we really going to lie to him?" she asked.

He shrugged. If Thomas was as smart as Albus said, she hoped he wouldn't figure it out.

"We would have to discuss it when it's just the two of us, and we are not processing all of this. We do not need to make an immediate decision on that. We will have over nine months to discuss these intricacies. As he gets older, we may come to a different conclusion than the one we come to before he's with us."

"True," she said. "You knew it was me, I was his choice."

"I did."

"And you agreed?"

He huffed and she couldn't help but give an internal giggle at that. She knew better than to do it aloud. He clearly didn't like her realizing that nor asking about it. She couldn't resist letting him know she'd noticed, though.

"As he said, it makes … sense."

She looked away then, staring at the wall as she thought that over.

He was admitting that he thought it made sense, too. She wondered just how difficult that was for him to do. It had to be given that, as of this moment, she was still his student. That must mean, though, that he truly thought it could work. They could do this, change the future, and hopefully make it a better one.

Together.

Not just for Tom Riddle either.

Did he think that they could pull off being happy together? Present a loving family to Tom Riddle? To wizarding society?

To the world?

He must, or he wouldn't have agreed to her being the witch in the equation. If he thought they could, then she had to believe they could. He had far more worldly experience than she did. He was clearly more adept at subterfuge than she could probably ever dream to be. What Harry and Ron would do if they found out without a doubt that Severus Snape was part of the Order, serving as a spy. They'd flip, because both looked for any reason that they could to disparage the man.

They weren't the only ones either.

From what she could tell, most of his life had been spent with and among people who used him or weren't as kind to him as they could have been because he was, like her, different. She didn't engage in gossip with Remus or Sirius, but she heard what they said.

She could make a difference for this man.

Was that enough?

Was possibly changing the course of Thomas Riddle and making this wizard's life at all more pleasant than it had been until now enough for her? Because, if she did this, that was essentially what she was committing to doing.

She walked to the door then and opened it.

"You may come in, Headmaster. Professor."

She returned to where she'd been sitting, taking a seat once more. She clutched her hands in front of her, resting them in her lap. She watched Professor Snape, who was looking at her very curiously. And not nearly quite as harshly as he usually did.

No one said anything once the two had returned to the room. No one seemed willing to break the silence. Were they afraid Professor Snape had scared her to the point she'd reject the idea?

No sense prolonging the inevitable. She took a deep breath, remembered her thoughts of the possibility of this man finding her attractive when she'd been sitting here just a few minutes ago. Not that that was why she was agreeing to do this. It did help, though. If she thought he was a horrid man, and he felt the same about her, the plan would be doomed before they even embarked on it.

It was a good idea. It would not be a good idea with someone she couldn't stand who felt the same way about her. She didn't know whether she could stand him, but he seemed to agree to give her time as far as her wifely duties if she gave him time to figure out how to be a husband.

"I agree," she said finally when it was clear no one else was going to say anything.

And it dawned on her.

They were waiting for her.

This plan going forward from merely an idea to an actual plan was contingent upon her answer. Did they have a second choice? And why did that thought … bother her? Someone else taking her place in this scheme.

And it was a scheme.

True, there was probably more than a good chance it could work, however, there was also a decent possibility that it would fail. If it did, that meant that they would have to kill a child, and she'd be stuck fifty or sixty years in the past with Severus Snape and no one else, dealing with having to take a life on both of their souls.

"I do have one condition."

"I am willing to listen," Albus said.

He seemed amused.

He probably was at the idea that a sixteen year old witch had terms and conditions. For the moment, she was the one in charge. She doubted very highly they had a second choice. She wasn't sure why she felt that way, but if there was another option they would have approached that witch first. For the simple fact that Hermione was still sixteen, and publicly friends with Harry Potter.

"I would like through Sunday." She held up her hand. "I would like the next few nights to do some things. I'm agreeing, but am asking for this."

"What things?" Professor McGonagall asked.

Really? Did they think she was just going to leave tonight without doing anything to prepare for such a trip? A very permanent, one-way trip.

To the past!

Essentially alone with really no reason to believe the man she was going with would be kind to her. She had his word that he would cheat or harm her. That was something, but not everything.

Hermione laughed.

"Does it matter? I am not going to run away after saying I agree to this. I'm asking for a little less than three days to tend to some things that I wish to. It's nothing illegal. I think I'm entitled to that. Professor Snape can come with me. In fact, I could use him, and I will be ready to go Sunday night. I assume you'd be telling Harry and Ron that I left tonight, so I can't go back to my dorm anyway."

"Yes, that would be the plan, heading off a threat before the Express departs tomorrow, expecting you and your parents to be there. An elf would be sent to collect your belongings."

Logical and understandable. One thing, though, she wasn't sure these three thought of.

"You do realize that Harry is familiar enough with the muggle world that he may go to my parents' home at some point? Probably not over the Easter holidays, but still he's not just going to take my leaving and let it go. My parents would still be there. I will not. He's met them. He knows them."

True, he'd never been to her house, but they had written to one another. He knew her address and how to read a map well enough to find it.

"We will take care of it," the headmaster said.

She wasn't sure she liked the sound of that, but she had to trust him. She wouldn't know anyway whatever they decided on. And, as he'd said earlier about Severus' disappearance being reported as a death, if they changed things, the parents that Hermione had in the new 1996 wouldn't know anything. They would never need to be told their daughter was gone.

"And we will be given money to start? If we're going back seventy years, we will both need completely new wardrobes, especially if you want us to try to fit in with pureblood society. A newborn baby will require things. No offense, but I can't imagine going back and being poor while we raise him will have the desired effect you are aiming for."

"Yes," the headmaster said, eyes twinkling. "That can be arranged, of course. Severus has documentation of what I plan to provide."

She smiled wryly.

"He mentioned that, yes, but I'm not sure any of you understand what goes into a baby. I'm not altogether sure myself, but I've babysat. And I know that an entire wardrobe for me will not be cheap."

"As I said, a Gringotts account will be established for you and monies put into it for you. I will send you back with more than enough money to procure wardrobes and whatever supplies you may both need so that you can get started. I want this plan to succeed, Miss Granger, so I will not send you there less than prepared for a long, productive, and good life." His eyes twinkled again. "I presume also, though he hasn't said and I haven't asked, that Severus will not be embarking on this trip empty handed either."

Oh, well, sure, at thirty-six, he would certainly have some sort of savings. Presumably anyway, unless he lived frivolously.

"Of course, I didn't mean to imply he would be, but you are asking us to give up literally everything. So, some compensation should be in order for that."

"I will be sending more than enough compensation."

"Have I not thought of anything?" This was directed to Professor Snape.

"Not that I can think of. Except one thing," the professor said.

"Yes, Severus?"

"If things go pear shaped and we have to … take matters into our own hands, will we be able to return?"

The headmaster sighed. He didn't like the question. He'd said a bit ago they would not be able to return. He seemed pretty adamant about that.

"If that happens, come talk to me."

"So, no in other words."

"I cannot answer that absolutely, but I would be inclined to say no. You will still have changed things enough between when you arrive in 1926 and when that step would have to be taken. I don't see how you could return, as the world you'd return to would already be different than the one you are leaving. Your lives would be different to this point, hopefully. Of course, I wouldn't know if you do, but I did warn you that you would not be able to."

"I was just asking the question."

"I can appreciate that," the headmaster said. "I will ask my younger self to prepare a second set of identities for all three of you, in the event you need to leave Britain suddenly. So an escape plan, as it were, will be in place. You would also have access to the time turner I'm sending you back with, but I'd advise you not to use it to go forward as your identities - either set - won't go that deep as to be used in today's society say as compared to 1926, or earlier if you have to flee and chose another time instead of just another country."

"Understood, and thank you for offering us that contingency plan of identities. We truly have no way of knowing what we will come up against with him."

Silence as both men assessed one another. The headmaster then brought his attention back to her.

"So, you want until Sunday night, Miss Granger?"

"Yes," she had to stop herself from saying please. She was not asking for permission. She thought it was very little to ask for. "If you wish to send Professor Snape with me, I understand but I will not run. If I didn't want to agree I would just tell you no."

"Unless you just don't want to be obliviated."

She nodded. He obviously knew she did not like the idea. At all.

"You're right. The idea of that is abhorrent to me, I will not deny that, Headmaster. I would not lie to you to get out of it. I sense you'd know, or someone in this room would at any rate. So what would be the point in trying?"

"Severus?" the headmaster asked.

"I can accompany her. You don't wish to go home?"

"No," she said. "As much as I'd love to say goodbye to my parents, that would hurt too much. I believe I'm entitled to a little bit of privacy as to what I might wish to do. I will be ready to go Sunday night at this time."

"That could work, actually," the headmaster said. "If you wish to be declared deceased, Severus, then I will say that you met your end during a skirmish while the Grangers were fleeing. That way it can be open-ended as to which side you might have been on during the fighting. It's better than Tom just thinking you abandoned your post."

Professor Snape grimaced but nodded. She'd never thought about the fact that the two would have to come up with stories, or ways for Severus' actions, to be interpreted as for or against the Order. God, why had she never thought about that? Were the rumours about him even designed to cast doubt? To make him seem … evil when he was not?

"Severus can escort you to tend to what you need to. We will see you both in seventy-two hours then."

"Thank you, Sir."

She and Professor Snape stood then, he walked beside her out the door and into the first office she'd come into earlier. They left it and she found herself in a hallway. She could see several doors but nothing else. She knew that there were other things there. She could see, for instance, the outline of a picture frame but the perception made it appear … fuzzy. She guessed somehow that it was magically modified so she couldn't see anything. Did he see it that way, she wondered? The headmaster evidently trusted him so whatever this place was - a safehouse of some sort? - maybe it wasn't distorted for him.

"Ready then?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," she said.

He regarded the notebook she held and she shrugged. She'd forgotten she even brought it with her, but she wasn't sure if she'd need to take notes during this meeting. In her fifth year of magical school or not, for extracurricular things, she still preferred a muggle notebook and pen or pencil for some things.

"How good are you at breaking and entering, Sir?"

"I'm sorry? What?"

She couldn't tell if he was insulted or amused by her question. Perhaps both.

"I want to break into the library."

"The library? Are you kidding me? That's what you want to do with your last seventy-two hours in the present time?"

"No, I'm not kidding, and yes it is."

He scoffed with a snort. "Sure, I can manage that."

"You don't have anything you wish to do?" she asked, regarding him.

She had not thought of that until this moment. He had seventy-two hours left in this time, too, and she'd basically commandeered him to help her. Did he have no one to even say goodbye to or see before he traveled seventy years into the past?

"No, I had this week to tie up anything I cared to."

She nodded. She wondered when exactly he and the headmaster had talked about this if he had the week. Had he known for a week she was the wife in the equation? Longer?

"I'd prefer the library I'm familiar with, but think the one in London would be better because it has a magical area. I'd like both, magical and muggle I mean. I don't know where everything is there, though. My local one is smaller so they have little in the way of security measures in place. Which would you suggest?"

"I should be able to get you into the London library easily enough. I can disillusion you. Does that work? You have seventy-two hours. How much are you looking for?"

"No, you're right. I just want to be prepared. If you think you can get me in there without incident, as I'd rather neither of us get arrested to start our Easter holidays off."

He huffed, but gave what almost sounded like a chortle. She'd take a chortle from Severus Snape.

"Very well," he said, offering her his arm.

"You will have to teach me how to apparate," she said, sliding her arm over his offered one so she could sidealong with him.

He nodded his head slightly. "I just realized that to be true. We will have time to do that."

There was no scorn, amusement, or ridicule in his voice. She wasn't seventeen yet, so when would she have learned? She couldn't practice at home. She'd get caught. Mrs. Weasley certainly wouldn't let her do it at the Burrow. So, where would she have had to go to learn? And honestly, she wasn't sure she was looking forward to learning this form of wizarding transportation. She'd be expected to do it then, and she still found it unsettling.

"Thank you, Sir."

And just like that they were in front of a park near the library in London she had been talking about. She took heart in the fact he knew exactly which library she meant. He disillusioned them both immediately without her even having to ask him to, and she led him in the direction of the library. He was able to get them inside, and she sighed softly at the familiarity of this building. Not this particular one, but a library. The hours she'd spent in the one near her house as a child, and even on summer breaks from Hogwarts.

"You sit there," she said, gesturing to an area with tables and chairs. She couldn't see him so had to hope he would, in fact, grant her her privacy.

"Very well," he said.

"There are muggle magazines over there if you get bored."

She spent hours accumulating the information she wanted. It was wrong, she knew that, but she would not leave anything to chance, and she'd only use this information if it became necessary. She trusted the headmaster, to a point. He couldn't possibly know or remember everything from 1926 to know how they'd truly survive. He had his mind on a war, not every day, common things. Nor did she really think he knew just how much a woman of standing and means would require as far as clothing and such. Hermione wasn't sure herself, but she knew it was a lot. She would certainly leave here having a better idea than she did arriving here.

Still disillusioned, she approached him a few hours later, hoping he was still seated in the same spot. She set her hand on the table where his should be and felt him flinch slightly. She was grateful he knew she was who was touching him. She felt with that little flinch how powerful and strong just his hand was. If she'd been someone threatening him…

Of course, if she'd been someone else, she wouldn't know he was there.

"There is a small conference room we can rest in for a few hours. It's rarely ever used in the mornings that I recall from my times here, so we could rest there for a bit."

She felt his hand clutch hers then, and she led him in the direction of the room she knew of.

"You are doing nothing but whatever it is you're choosing to do here with your time until Sunday night?"

"Correct," she said.

"How about if I return Sunday around noon. I will come back to this room, and you can let me know when you're ready. If this is all you needed me for, breaking and entering and disillusioning you. Well, your disillusionment is already in place, so they're not going to come looking for it."

"Okay. Thank you for trusting me."

"Oh, I wouldn't blame you for running away. I would if I was you."

She didn't think that was true, honestly. If he'd been acting as a spy for fifteen years, he would not run away.

"Good thing I'm not you then, isn't it?"

"Touche," he said.

"And I don't think you'd run away, Sir."

She truly didn't. He would have by now if that was the kind of man he was. It was one of the reasons she agreed to this. For all his faults, which really consisted mostly of being an unpleasant person. Maybe without a war and acting as a spy he wouldn't be that any longer. (She had to hope!) Well, he was an honourable man. It was how she'd known he wouldn't push to consummate their marriage immediately. He wouldn't do that. Some would.

"Be safe then, Miss Granger," he whispered and, just like that, he was gone with a soft pop that indicated apparition.

After about ninety minutes of rest she was ready for more research. She repeated this process more than a couple of times until she was as prepared as she thought she was going to be Sunday afternoon.

He returned promptly at noon as he said he would, dressed in muggle clothing. He'd transfigured hers the other night when they walked here from the park, giving her a coat "in case you are seen," he'd said. She was used to seeing herself in muggle clothes. She was not used to seeing Severus Snape in muggle clothes. She squinted, certain she was seeing things when she first noticed his T-shirt, advertising The Kinks. She'd never pictured him doing muggle things like listening to The Kinks records.

He did, she noticed, page through some muggle magazines while he waited for her. At least he hadn't been completely bored for the few more hours it took her before she felt ready. She wondered what he'd done with two and a half days of unexpected free time before knowing he was leaving for the past a few hours from now.

It was about two o'clock when they left and she led him down the street to a local inn she knew about.

"We are here why?" He didn't sound upset, confused and maybe a little frightened as to why she'd lead him here. That amused her for some reason.

"To sleep? I don't know about you, but I'm tired. Sleeping a couple of hours at a time on a floor was not my ideal form of rest. I don't imagine going back seventy years is going to be a cake walk on our bodies. Maybe you went home and slept for almost seventy hours, but we have until nine o'clock tonight. I'm going to use it."

"I would agree, but we cannot. It would not be proper."

"Get a room with two beds. Good grief. We are going to spend the next hundred or so years together. Married. Are you going to accost me while I sleep?"

"No, Miss Granger, I think I can refrain from doing so today."

"Then you'll just have to trust that I can, too," she said cheekily.

She knew that he would not accost her.

Some doubted his loyalty to the Order, but Hermione did not. She wasn't sure why exactly, other than the fact that the headmaster trusted him. To this point he did things she found odd or questioned, but not to the point she doubted him trusting Severus Snape. She knew she was safe with him. He wouldn't have chosen him in this if he at all doubted his loyalty.

If he was still a death eater, there'd be nothing stopping him from going back to the past and making Tom Riddle worse than he was now. Or, for that matter, take his place. He'd have the know-how, and he'd know the names of people who would be connections to do that.

He did as directed, getting them a room for the upcoming night with two beds. They'd be gone before sunset, but she was exhausted and wanted some decent rest in a room with a bed, and a bathroom she could maybe shower, or at least freshen up, in when she woke up.

"May I ask why you spent most of three days and nights in a library?" he asked when they were in the room, settling on their respective beds. "I assure you they did exist where we're going."

"No, you may not, and I'm aware that they exist. Obviously, since the headmaster said a librarian was a potential position for me to hold. I will tell you when we get where we're going."

"Fair enough."

"Severus," she said after a while of quiet between them.

"I thought you wanted to sleep, Granger."

She took heart in the fact he hadn't corrected her use of his given name. That had to mean something good, didn't it? "Why did you suggest the deaging potion?"

"Because I have enough things against you choosing me even when I'm twenty-four years old let alone thirty-six."

She turned onto her side, sliding a hand under her pillow as she yawned and regarded him. "I'd beg to differ."

"This is about perception, Miss Granger. People will need to believe we are young and in love. I am not attractive or kind nor am I personable or funny, I am not uncommonly wealthy. That is not to say that I cannot support a wife. I have been most frugal over the years so she, you since there is now a specific witch in the equation, will be comfortable. All I truly have is my intelligence, but people have to be convinced that you gave me the time of day in the first place to get to where we courted let alone married."

"Mm," she said, eyes fluttering closed. "I'm not exactly the catch of the century either, Sir," she whispered.

"In whose eyes? Mr. Weasley's? He wouldn't recognize a catch if it hit him in the head. Did you not see the way Mr. Krum looked at you last year? If you'd been a little older I wager having you as my wife would not have been an option in this scheme Albus has concocted because you'd already be taken, which would mean there would be no scheme."

"Which I don't understand, Sir. You hate me."

He scoffed. He turned onto his side then, facing her. The sound of movement made her open her eyes. If she thought she knew him at all, she'd think he looked pensive, thoughtful.

"I don't hate you, Miss Granger. Do you truly think that I would commit to spending the rest of my life with someone I hated? I'm not a masochist, contrary to the rumours about me. I hope that you give me more credit than thinking I would do that. And it will be the rest of our lives, don't fool yourself into thinking otherwise. I asked Albus about our returning for your sake. To drive home the point we will be stuck in the past. Together. I suppose that we could agree to live separately and concoct a believable story as to why, but divorces especially then were not done."

"I know," she said.

Especially in the wizarding world. She was fully aware of what she was agreeing to, and who she was agreeing to do it with. There really would be no way out, no going back, no waking up a week from now deciding she was having second thoughts.

"Can you be insufferable? Yes. Have you consistently turned in assignments longer than they should have been? Yes. Do I have time to read an extra six inches with every assignment turned in? No. Just think if every student did that! Have you learned yet that life exists outside of a book? I'm still not sure, but do believe that you are beginning to. I can acknowledge that fact. Are you intelligent? One of the most intelligent people I've had the experience of meeting in my lifetime? Yes and yes. I'm not the only one who thinks so, in the event you're going to argue that I'm only thirty-six. Are you loyal? One only has to look at your friendship with Potter and Weasley to know the answer to that question is yes. Is that both a strength and a weakness? Yes. Have I been acting as a spy for the past sixteen or so years so that treating a Gryffindor muggleborn witch who is best friend's of my supposed master's enemy with an ounce of preference or kindness would be suspect? Unequivocally yes. Under normal circumstances, would it have been enjoyable to have someone so curious as a student? I'd like to say yes, but I've never taught under normal circumstances to say for certain. Have I been torn in virtually three directions the entire time that you have been a student at Hogwarts as a result of the Dark Lord's attempts, and his ultimate return, so perhaps have been even more intolerant of things like six extra inches of an essay every time than usual? Yes. Am I inherently a miserable son of a bitch, regardless of the current climate cutting into my personal downtime? Yes."

She snorted.

"I will do my best not to cut into your personal downtime, Sir, and I apologize that I have little to contribute to this plan that's tangible."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

She shrugged. Was he really asking that?

"Well, I mean that I have no money or anything of value to contribute. I have no things to even bring with me for that matter. The only thing I have that is my own really is my familiar, my cat, Crookshanks. I'd love to bring him with us, but I don't think he'd time travel seventy years very well. He hates apprating! My parents are alive and well here, but not where we're going. So I have no hope of gaining an inheritance or anything else that I might count on. Add to that you're putting a lot of faith in the fact that I'm going to raise Tom Riddle, the person I know only as the maniac trying to kill my best friend, to be any different. It seems all I'm really bringing to the table is my intelligence."

"We are both taking a huge chance, Granger. Essentially, we will be the only one each other has. I knew going into it that you would bring nothing into this but your person and your mind. You do not need an inheritance. I am aware of the time period we are going back to, and have no problems supporting you. I don't gamble, I don't womanize, I'm not a man who needs a months' worth of clothes in my closet to feel good about myself, and I don't drink or eat to excess so my money will not be spent frivolously on things. Books, I suppose, and potions items."

"Oh, but I'd use those, too!"

He chuckled softly then, turning onto his back once again. She'd never heard him laugh and wondered if his turning away was a defense mechanism. He didn't want her to hear him? Either way, she sensed it was time to go to sleep, and wondered when he decided sleeping as they were here to do was, in fact, a wise idea.

"I'm not sure I love your enthusiasm or not, but I am grateful that my wife will be so easily pleased with books and potions ingredients."

"Oh, well, that's not all that would please me."

"Sleep, Granger. This was your idea, I agreed to it because it was a valid one. You are right, we have no idea what such a trip will do to us, physically or mentally. You were just presented with this idea the other night. I was not, so I am not unprepared. I imagine whatever you were doing at the library these few days was your effort to ensure you are not completely unprepared either. I assure you that we will not be destitute nor bored. I will see to it."

"Thank you," she said finally.

She turned to lay on her back as well.

That made her feel better. He'd known about this idea before Thursday night, probably before this week he'd mentioned earlier, so he had time to prepare. He might not be the nicest person, but she could not deny that he was an exact and precise one. Clearly, if he'd been a spy for most of her life, and survived, he knew how to get things done.

"Turn your mind off, Granger," he hissed.

She gave a soft chuckle and then proceeded to do just that, though it wasn't easy. She had so many questions and so much to think about.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com