It was a few hours later when they woke up. Well, when she woke up. She wondered if he truly slept. She doubted it. It was nice of him to indulge her, and there was no doubt that was exactly what he'd done. He was stronger and more powerful than she was. He could have carried her away if he really wanted to. Perhaps he enjoyed a few hours of being able to turn his mind off even if he didn't sleep. She knew she appreciated those moments when they happened. She did know that she felt safe here with him, and she took that as a good sign.

"I, too, have a stop to make," he said once they'd ensured they had everything they brought with them. That sort of surprised her. She assumed he'd come to the library ready to go back to the headmaster. "I've sent a patronus to Albus letting him know we have been slightly delayed but will be there within an hour. I didn't want him thinking you, or I, had fled."

She'd taken longer than he had, wanting to freshen herself up after essentially three days in the same clothes. He hadn't complained and new clothes, complete with bra and knickers were on the edge of the sink when she was done with the shower. She had blushed a bit at that, because she hadn't noticed him open the door to the bathroom to put them there. She knew he hadn't come in and looked at her or anything. He would have only had to open it far enough to summon her clothes and then put the new ones down. There was even a note.

Your other clothes will be in the room's rubbish bin if you truly wish to take them with you.

He hadn't signed it, but that was unnecessary under the circumstances. She would recognize his handwriting anywhere anyway. The gesture was appreciated. Very much. Putting on clothes she'd worn for days after showering wasn't appealing even with the benefit of a cleansing charm, but she hadn't had a choice.

He'd thought of her!

"Sure," she said.

She slid her hand into the crook of his arm, grasping tightly when he told her he was ready to apparate them.

"Oh," she said once they'd arrived at their destination.

The utterance came out before she could censure it, but she kept quiet after that. This must be his home. Leaving or not in a few hours, he was letting her see it. She sensed he didn't do that lightly. She kept her mouth shut despite having so many questions! Now was not the time, she knew that.

That didn't mean she didn't look her fill, though.

It was … not at all what she expected. Not that she'd ever taken much time to think of what Severus Snape's house would be like. This, though, looked like a muggle house. Was he muggleborn? She certainly hadn't gotten that impression. She assumed because of him being in Slytherin and a death eater…

Well, she obviously had assumed wrong, or he'd managed to hide his true roots very well. Or there was another option, she supposed, being that he was a spy. He wasn't muggleborn, and just happened to have a house in muggle society. She could imagine that would be tempting, especially considering she doubted very highly that many death eaters would know much about muggle society to look for a house in his name here.

"I can see you taking this in. My father was a muggle," he said with a shake of his head. The shake was as he looked at the living room, not aimed at her. Or didn't seem to be, thankfully. Surely he'd expect her to be curious about his home.

He obviously had no love for this house. She thought that was quite sad. She loved her house growing up. She had so many memories in it between holidays and birthdays and just little things like learning to make tea for the first time.

"I've left you speechless, I see. I never thought I'd see that happen. This is where I grew up. As I've been a spy for over fifteen years, I assumed my life came with an expiration date that would arrive sooner rather than later. So I never found another home. Why bother when I was just going to die? I have asked Albus to destroy all of this once I have been declared dead," he said.

That was … both incredibly sad and brave. Sad, because that meant he assumed he'd likely be killed. Brave. Well, for the same reason. He did it, did the job, expecting to die. And no one knew but the headmaster.

And now she did.

"Why?"

"I do not want anyone, followers of the Dark Lord or the Order, combing through my belongings for a hint as to which side I was truly loyal to. I have been very careful not to leave evidence of either being true, but people are curious. And morbid. So I don't doubt someone would come here. A few know of this domicile. I really don't want anyone to know the truth, except those who do, which consists of Albus and now you. Anything that I truly want is coming with me."

"But these books!"

He shook his head, giving a low chuckle. "I have told Albus he can take those, but to ensure there are no papers or anything else identifiable inside them before he adds them to the Hogwarts library."

"Oh, but Sir," she said. Her heart hurt at the idea of so many books being just left behind.

"Relax, Granger, I will amass a new collection, I promise you. Any I truly feel are necessary are already coming with us. Some only you and I will have access to because of their publication dates. I also can't take everything with me. If I'm to be pronounced dead, I can't have it obvious I went through my things. All of my books being missing would be suspicious, to both sides. I will be a few minutes. Have a seat, or look around as I'm sure you're dying to do. However, do not touch anything. Some of these books are dark and could hurt you."

"I understand," she said.

She presumed the headmaster would know which of them would harm someone and either put them somewhere safe, or remove the charm.

She got so caught up in just reading the various titles that she paid little attention to how long he was gone, or the fact that he'd returned. It was longer than a few minutes she knew. That knowledge was based on how many titles she was able to peruse.

"You're lucky your beast is acquainted with me," he said.

"What?" she asked, realizing now he was holding Crookshanks! Oh, and again, bestill her heart. He'd gone to get her familiar so she could say goodbye to him! "Crooks," she said.

"He is calm, so I suggest leaving him be with me for the time being. Albus and I can incapacitate him for the trip, but you will be responsible for holding onto him. I have a … carrier device I think will be suitable. If for some reason Albus disagrees, you will have to decide where you wish him to go."

"Oh! Yes, Sir, I understand," she said. The fact that he even took to heart that she might want to take him with if she could meant a lot. "How did you get him?"

"With my … side duties I have permission to apparate into my office at Hogwarts. I know where he frequents."

"Oh," she said.

"No one saw me."

"I don't doubt you. I," she paused. She fought the instinct to hug him, sensing he wouldn't appreciate that. She settled for verbal acknowledgement of her gratitude. "Thank you, Sir. Really, thank you." She was fairly certain it was one of the most thoughtful things anyone had done for her.

She would have Crooks! He went to get him for her.

He set him down gently, and she wondered what he'd done to him. She trusted he hadn't hurt him. He wouldn't have brought him here if he'd harmed him or anything.

"Now, I wish I had more time to teach you how to do this, but I will when we arrive so that you can have one available to you. I imagine that we will have months for me to teach you everything you will need to know that you aren't supposed to know yet due to your age."

He showed her what looked like a basic school bag she'd seen many wizards use. She herself had a standard muggle backpack.

"I have an undetectable extension charm," he explained. "I cannot take much with us as I said for obvious reasons, but I thought it might come in handy even after we've arrived. I have converted all of my muggle funds to wizarding funds with Albus' assistance, so no one would notice me stockpiling money. The galleon hasn't changed, so cashing them in seventy years ago won't be a problem. I will show you the charm, though, so you can do one yourself when we arrive as we will have time for me to do so."

"Why?" she asked.

"Why am I going to teach you something? Did you fall and hit your head while I was gone, Granger? Perhaps I should be worried that someone else raided my stores and made polyjuice potion to impersonate you."

She ducked her head, unable to stop from smiling.

He made a joke!

The first time she thought he might have, it had been subtle. This though, he was very obviously attempting to be funny.

"If things do go pear shaped and we are not allowed to return here, we should have the bare minimum to make an escape and start anew on us. The other papers Albus will have prepared for us, extra clothes, a bit of money, and so forth. I don't want to say at all times, as I'd hope things wouldn't go bad until he gets to school. However, you should have your own bag, with your own things in it, ready to go where only you and I know where it is."

"Oh, yes, Sir, I understand."

"And you are sure that you do not wish to say goodbye to your parents?"

"And say what exactly?" She shrugged. She absolutely wanted to see them, but she knew she couldn't. "I thought about that Thursday night when we left the headmaster's office, or wherever we were. It would be too difficult. I didn't even ask what Headmaster Dumbledore is telling or doing with them. I, quite frankly, don't want to know. I won't ever need to know if we accomplish what we set out to do."

"That is quite brave, Miss Granger."

She shrugged as she didn't think so. She was making a decision that if they were even remotely aware of what had been asked of her. Well, they would have forbidden it. If she went to see them, they'd know something was going on. They weren't stupid.

"I'm not being brave, Professor. I'm being selfish. If I showed up at their house in the middle of the school year out of the blue after telling them I was going to spend the Easter holidays with the Weasleys, they'd know something was wrong. I have managed to keep them from knowing the severity of the situation to this point. They read the Daily Prophet on occasion, but I've pointed to the stories that are obvious lies, so I think they believe the paper is the equivalent of The Sun . I haven't bothered correcting that misconception. I just don't want to alarm them. I figure if we do this right, they'll have ten months or so of wondering, of living with whatever story Dumbledore concocts. And then I guess if we succeed," she shrugged. "I mean, surely, just raising him in a home will make some sort of difference so the future should change however slightly that difference makes. Well, they won't wonder anymore. Will they? Or I won't know they are. I guess I don't know, and that's what I came back to. What would I possibly say to them?"

"It's brave, Granger. Sometimes bravery is doing what we can to hurt those we care for less."

"Are there people that you care for, Sir?"

"Just you, an unborn child, and, it seems, your familiar at this point."

"Mm," she said, eyeing him.

She wasn't sure if she should take comfort in that or not. She wasn't going to pity him. He wouldn't want that, and would likely know. It was somewhat sad, though.

Was there truly no one who would miss this man? He was thirty-six years old. Certainly there was someone? And yet at the school functions she'd seen him at, he was always alone. Members of the Order never spoke of a witch, a mum, or anyone.

Was that why he was agreeing to do this? That made her incredibly sad once more. If he had been acting as a spy for fifteen to sixteen years, obviously it had been a very lonely job. One causing the very people that he was trying to help to hate and be suspicious of him.

How did he manage? Who did he trust? Who did he talk to?

He wouldn't have been able to tell anyone. The headmaster. It seemed the two had a relationship, but she imagined that it was rather one-sided.

"I assume when we return you'll have things to do as far as completing preparations as well as taking the potion and such?"

"Yes," he said.

"May I speak with Professor McGonagall while you do that?"

"You do not need to ask permission from me, Granger. I am not your keeper, nor would I aspire to prevent you from saying goodbye to someone you care about who seems to hold the same regard for you. Now, if you wanted to spend ten thousand pounds on an automobile when we arrive in the past, that is something that I would suggest we should discuss together beforehand. However, pricey automobiles, an entire household's worth of new draperies, or something similar aside, I trust your decision making skills. I am not going to make you account for every second and hour or galleon and penny spent."

"Well, I don't know if the plan was to take it and leave, but I'd assume there'd be some time involved for the potion to take effect, ensure that there are no ill effects, and then we'd leave."

"There will be no ill effects, but you assume correctly, and I should imagine Minerva would enjoy being the last person you speak to before we embark on this journey."

"Funny to think you'll teach her," she said.

"And you could be her librarian."

"Will that be odd for you? She was your professor, but I get the impression you are friendly now."

"We are. As friendly as I can be with someone who allowed people to bully me when I was a student. And, no, I will not answer questions on that, at least not here. At this time."

"Sure, I understand," she said.

Though she wanted to know, and she saw in his eyes that he knew she did. Was this a test to see if she could, in fact, leave something alone without picking at it?

"I have everything I came for, plus a half kneazle it seems," he said.

He handed the satchel to her while he picked up Crookshanks. She rather enjoyed watching how … gentle he was with her familiar.

"Are you ready then to return to your head of house and the headmaster?"

"Yes," she said, moving beside him again so she could hold his arm while he apparated them. "I do have one question."

"Of course you do."

"Where did the headmaster meet with me?"

"Oh, an Order property. I suppose you could call it a safehouse, but it's much more than that."

"I would imagine so if he's staying there and was able to connect it to Professor McGonagall's office."

"That portkey was the doorknob and keyed to you. No one else would have been transported. Minerva knows how to get there herself, so could have apparated. She wanted to be with you so you weren't taken by surprise. Well, anymore than you were."

"I see."

That explained it then. She wondered. Though she supposed if someone was touching a portkey and someone was touching them they could be taken with. Otherwise how would families with small children travel? A baby wouldn't be able to grasp a portkey. Things like that she'd honestly never thought to look into. It wasn't as if she was going to travel via portkey with her parents.

"Are you ready now?"

"Yes."

He nodded then and apparated them back to where they'd been a little more than seventy-two hours ago.

"Ah, there they are. I will inform Minerva you've returned."

"That will do well, as Miss Granger asked to speak with her before we leave."

"We expected as much, did we not, Severus?"

"We did," Severus said.

"No second thoughts then, Miss Granger?"

"Oh, plenty, Sir, but I said I'd do this. Unless you can tell me a specific reason why I should go back on my word, I will go through with it. You let me do what I wanted to do. I appreciate that. I am ready."

Well, ready may not be exactly accurate, but she was here and said she'd do it. And if the headmaster and Professor Snape were suggesting she was the most viable candidate for this endeavour. Well, who was she to argue with them? And what was she supposed to do? Say, no? Find someone else, and let Harry die? Let the world go even more to hell in a handbasket?

If they did this. If they succeeded … no one would die. Harry would have his parents! She knew, too, that Ronald's uncles were killed as well as classmates like Susan Bones who lost their entire family. Neville's parents would be functional for him. Would he be much different being raised by them instead of his grandmother? She had to think so.

"I can't think of any. If I didn't think you and Severus combined could do this I wouldn't be sending you on this project."

She hoped not. It was still immensely risky, but she supposed his thought was that it couldn't be worse than where they were right now. She and Professor Snape had already discussed the idea of what would happen if they discovered they couldn't change Tom Riddle. Obviously, they had more to talk about with regard to that, but they both realized that this, in fact, may not work.

"I will show you where you can wait. Minerva will join you when she gets here. There are books there, so you should be content until she arrives."

"I thought…"

"What?" Professor Snape said.

"Are you not marrying us?"

"My past-self will be instructed to do so when you arrive. We cannot have anything here documenting a marriage between you two. The date of the bonding must match what's on the papers. We can't have someone casting a spell and seeing you were married in 1996."

"Oh," she said. She hadn't even thought of that. Of course they couldn't. Silly of her not to realize.

The headmaster smiled at her. "Does that have an effect on your decision?"

"Well, what's to stop Professor Snape, or me for that matter, from getting to where we're going and saying to hell with everyone else, we're alive and well, and just leaving?"

"Well, first of all, you will be leaving from here and arriving here. I didn't have an Order of the Phoenix seventy years ago, but you can be assured at that time I was not alone in trying to find solutions to that existing problem. Many meetings and sharing of information have taken place in this home over the years. As it so happens, I was at this house perusing texts and such the date I've chosen according to my diary. So, the timing works well. Second of all, there was a reason I chose the both of you. Neither of you would think that way, let alone act so selfishly. So, Miss Granger, your question is valid. In the event I have underestimated your commitment to this project, and the stability of our world and your best friend's life. Well, if either of you, individually or together, think that you can outrun me and my wards. Well, that would be for you to decide to attempt. I would think you wouldn't risk being unable to complete your task before it even began."

"Of course, Sir," she said.

"And Miss Granger, whether it is in 1926 or 1996, I expect great things out of you. I will not be able to say that to you again, but know that it is true. I speak for every professor here at Hogwarts who's had the privilege of teaching you. Even Severus. I would think that alone would stop you. Not my - or our - expectation of it necessarily, but the knowledge that you could achieve it and maybe you, your younger self could read about it. Your peers could be taught about it."

"Thank you, Sir."

That thought made her somewhat giddy with excitement at the potential, as well as incredibly nervous. Imagine reading about yourself and not knowing it was you.

Professor Snape showed her to a small room, different from the one she'd sat in Thursday. There were indeed books here. She wasn't really interested in reading anything, though, as she waited for Professor McGonagall to arrive. She perused titles and some of the art on the wall, but her mind was on other things.

What would the next seventy years be like? She knew her history, certainly muggle history better than magical since that was what she was raised with. The muggles' World War II would take place during this time. There would be a Depression before that, she knew. Would Severus have planned for that? Would the headmaster have accounted for that when deciding what (how much) to send them back with?

The door opened and Hermione turned, smiling at her head of house.

"Thank you for coming to see me, Professor."

"I think Minerva will do for today, don't you?"

"Of course, and Hermione, obviously. Please."

"Albus will not tell me what names he's sending you back with."

"I would imagine that despite trusting you that would be counterproductive to do. We're going to be there for months before Tom's born."

"Agreed. Severus and Albus mentioned you wanted to speak with me?"

"Well, I don't know what to do," she said.

"You agreed already…"

"No, I know I agreed. I'm not even seventeen. How do I be a mum? How do I be a wife? How do I make them happy? How do I make him happy," she said, gesturing to the door. "He let me call him Severus earlier. Well, I should rephrase that, he didn't yell at me for doing it. We were having a conversation, it seemed appropriate. I'm assuming he agreed based on him doing nothing, but prior to that when I told him to call me Hermione he said he wouldn't do that."

"Oh, Hermione. That is an excellent question, and one I'm not sure I can answer capably. I don't think many know Severus," she said. "I have not been married for many years as you may know, and have never been a parent. I have been a professor, of course, to students who reside with us ten months out of the year for many years. Be fair, be stern when you need to be, but let him know why the rules are what they are. That goes for magical and things not magical just as well."

"As far as Severus, I think the same could be true for him on a more adult level," she said with a slight frown. "Are you aware of his history?"

"Um, very little. I mean, I know he was a student here when Harry's mum and dad, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were. He was Slytherin. His father was muggle. He told me that, I hadn't known that. That's about all I know."

"You must not repeat what I'm about to tell you. He would probably be angry with me for telling you, but as you're traveling quite a distance and won't have anyone to ask or confide in, I feel it's my place to tell you."

"Okay," Hermione said, suddenly feeling a little frightened. What was she going to tell her? Something worse than his having been a death eater?

"He was friends with Lily Evans, Harry's mum, prior to attending Hogwarts. She was, from my understanding, his only friend. Period. He had some friends at Hogwarts, fellow Slytherins, but they were primarily those he could do things for or get things from. Tit for tat if you will. I'm afraid I may have …" she sighed here. "Well, let's just say James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter may have gone too far in some of their antics toward him. They suspected he was heading in the direction that wizards like Avery, Mulciber, and Malfoy were trying to lead him. I'm ashamed, now, to admit that I really did nothing. They were from better families. They were personable and social where Severus was, well, none of those things. It was entirely too easy to put the reputation of good boys whose parents had money to spend and who most everyone liked over one who wasn't so good and had no money. Looking back we all should have been firmer. I should have been firmer with them, and maybe not as firm with him. I can't help but think that I contributed to some of what happened."

"Which is?"

"Well, he took the Mark, Dear, became a death eater. He wasn't always a spy. He came to Albus sometime in 1980 from my understanding. I'm not privy to everything. He overheard a prophecy," she said and Hermione gasped. She knew where this was heading. "He reported it to You Know Who, not realizing at the time that it involved his old friend. His old friend who was no longer speaking to him by that point, and hadn't been since," she paused. "I suppose the end of their fifth year. James." She shook her head and stood and Hermione wondered what was coming. "I wasn't there, mind you, I presume it was a dangling jinx. Lily was witness to at least part of it and, from my understanding, joined in the laughter after reversing the spell. I don't think she meant to be mean. She was sixteen. We all laugh at inappropriate things. He called her a mudblood, and she never forgave him. He tried," she shrugged. "There was more to it than that. I'm giving you broad strokes because you have the right to know, but I won't embarrass him anymore than that. He would hate that I told you even that much, but I think it's important for you to know. He was not a very nice boy. Those in with You Know Who did more to bring that darkness out then we did to counteract it, I'm afraid. He thought at the time that he was in love with her. I don't think he meant it when he called her that. I will not lie to you and say he hadn't called other muggleborn witches and wizards that slur. He was humiliated, embarrassed, and he lashed out as a sixteen year old is wont to do. I don't think he thought of her that way, and likely may not have been fully aware of who was there and who he called that. A mudblood I mean."

"He was in love with her?"

"Mm. So the story goes, according to Albus. From my perspective, having observed them more than Albus did. I don't think he was. She certainly was not in love with him, which is the reason I'm telling you all of this. Albus does. Albus believes he still loves her. I do not. I think he mistook friendship, positive attention, and kindness for love. It was something he never had at home to compare what he felt for her to anything else. Albus has a fixation on love, something I think may be to his detriment. I admit in this case, with Tom Riddle, I do think he is onto something. That is why I agreed to let him present this idea to you to begin with. If there was ever a case where love could make a difference, I think this is one. And I don't mean solely for Tom either. You are only five months from turning seventeen to him being thirty-seven a little over three months after that. Severus has, other than his few years of friendship with Lily, never really known kindness, caring, friendship, or love. He and Tom aren't that different in that respect. His parents were both abusive, to one another and to him. How bad it was exactly, I don't know. I'm not sure anyone knows. It was a different time, the seventies, so things like that weren't … reported as they might be now. His mother was a pureblood who married a muggle, and was disowned as a result. I think initially it was okay, but they lived in a mill town, Cokeworth. Work started getting less and less, which led to shorter hours and less money and more drinking and hotter tempers. Severus could not afford new items or even quality used ones when he came to Hogwarts, so you can imagine from the beginning, in the climate of 1971, he was treated poorly by the likes of those who came from families who could afford the nicest things. He was smart, though, as you are aware, and soon proved his worth to others. He was never fully accepted, even by the likes of Lucius Malfoy. Tolerated. Liked for what he could do, and what he was likely to achieve if he took to their side of things. He got their attention, for certain. I think that was what crushed him most when he found out the prophecy was about Lily, and why he agreed to be a spy. He didn't become a death eater to rob, beat, and murder people. I'm not saying he never engaged in such activities. I'm sure that he did. He was not a saint nor was he really even a very good person. He had blood on his hands before he became a spy. He joined because he wanted acceptance. Power. To belong. I recognize the signs now, which does him no good I'm afraid. I think Lily was the first one who seemed to accept him as he was, and he mistook that for romantic interest, both on her part and on his own. The main difference between Tom and Severus is that Severus did have parents. Just a set that didn't care about him when it mattered."

"I guess so."

"So, my advice, Dear? Love him. I know you're not going to love him tomorrow, Hermione. I'm not suggesting that you fake it or lie to him. He'd see right through that, but even he wants to be loved. Be kind, be gentle yet firm. Most of all, be patient. His tongue can be razor sharp at times. I know you've seen evidence of that, but you haven't seen him at his worst. Sometimes I believe he uses it as a weapon so that people will retaliate against him negatively. That way he can tell himself he was right not to befriend them. If he says something unkind, count to ten - twenty if you have to - before you reply, and do so calmly. Take a moment to ascertain if he's truly being spiteful, or trying to provoke you into reacting bitterly. Treat him well, let him know that he is indeed special and worthy of you. Of love. Of this task giving him a second chance at life, and regardless of how things turn out with Tom it is what he's getting in a roundabout way. Do not let him believe you think you deserve less than those things in return. Did you ever take in a wounded bird or animal as a child?"

"Sure," she said.

She'd never been allowed to keep any of them, but her mum had helped her more than once with a kitten or a bird. They even found a baby hawk in the park once that had obviously fallen out of its nest. Hermione and her mum had (carefully) moved it out of harm's way from being stepped on and offered it water and such while her dad called the authorities.

"Do what you'd do for them, for that is essentially what he is. A thirty-six year old stray, injured, and hurting animal. He was forced to do this job, teaching potions I mean. He didn't want it, but both his masters wanted it for him. I honestly don't know what Severus originally aspired to be, but I know it wasn't a professor, teaching students who years before were guilty of ridiculing him. He has had to live with the knowledge he ratted out his only friend. You and I both know, and he may realize by now as well, that the prophecy would have gotten to You Know Who one way or the other. It just got to him sooner than it might have ordinarily by Severus overhearing it. He had eyes and ears everywhere. Severus Snape did not kill Lily and James Potter, but Albus has certainly done a good job of impressing on the wizard he may as well have the past fifteen years."

"I," she said.

Minerva chuckled. "Again, you can never tell him I said all of this."

"I won't tell him."

It was certainly a lot to digest and process. It also explained a lot as to his dislike of Harry. Something told her she'd have time to sort through all that Minerva just said. Would it help make her life easier? His? She hoped so.

"Thank you. I'm not suggesting, mind you, that you be a doormat and don't ever stand up for yourself. He would not want that. Well, he may think that he does, but ultimately he would not. He is a strong man to match being a strong wizard. He may come across as not caring as a professor, but he would very much want to see you live up to your potential. You can be equally as strong as he is, and do not ever let yourself think otherwise, regardless of the time you're living. Be yourself. Albus is right, you have given Harry something he never had growing up. His relationship with Ronald is different. It's not rooted in affection the same way yours is, but I've never heard you kowtow to them, or let them get away with things they shouldn't. Just remember the time you'll be in. If you do stand up for yourself, the appropriate time to do so would not be in front of that child or company, even young Albus."

"So Harry's mum was from Cokeworth, too?"

"Yes, but they were in a much better way. Not to the Potters' level but certainly better. I don't know the details, but I get the impression it was somewhat a fluke they met at all."

"Ah," Hermione said.

"In a way I'm somewhat envious of the both of you."

"Why?"

Minerva said. "You have a chance to escape. Not just the war, but your pasts. To start over. To make your lives what you want them to be with knowledge of the future. You, at your age, have little to regret, I'm not saying you have no regrets. I think Severus, having such a hands on task that won't result in torture and physical pain, will find it does wonders for his personality."

"He's tortured?"

"Oh, my dear, yes. Rarely does he come back from a meeting with You Know Who unharmed. I've never seen the results firsthand, but Poppy has. Albus provides him information to pass on, but most of the time it's deficient in You Know Who's eyes."

"I had no idea."

"Few do."

"I assume he's not only summoned on weekends?"

"Of course not," Minerva said. "Why?"

Of course not echoed in her head. She closed her eyes, shaking her head a bit as she went over what Professor Snape had said in the inn earlier. About having had little time. About her lengthy papers cutting into what time he did have. He wasn't talking about a social life. He was talking about recovering physically from torture.

Oh, God, she was going to be sick at the thought of all of that extra time to read her papers, because she wanted to show what she knew, eating into his time to recover. Or just have time to himself not being tortured! Granted, it had only been the past year or so Voldemort was back, but still.

"Oh, I'm just thinking of all the classes he's taught over the years. I can't think of one he's missed. And here I am giving him eighteen or twenty inches when he asks for twelve…"

"Oh, don't beat yourself up, Hermione."

"Harry and Ronald would go on and on about what a prat he was, and meanwhile he's working behind the scenes, or getting tortured, to try to help Harry."

She hugged Hermione and she accepted the gesture, hugging her back tightly and taking comfort in her professor's arms. She imagined it was the last hug she'd get for some time.

"Oh, my dear, you mustn't dwell on it. You didn't know! How could you? Just think of it this way. If you succeed in this. If you go back and accomplish what you're sent to do. The next Severus won't have to do any of it. Harry will grow up with Lily and James Potter."

"I had thought of that, yes," Hermione said.

"Of course you had, I shouldn't be surprised."

"I thought of Ronald's mum, too, having her brothers. And Neville's parents, and Susan Bones' family."

"Of course you would. There is so much that this could change for the good, lives saved yes, but that isn't all. That is why I allowed the idea to be presented to you. And I know Severus will not treat you poorly. He may be emotionally detached, but if you can get past that armour he has erected around his mind and his heart. I think that he will be a good mate for you."

"Thank you."

"I wish I could say I will help you, but find someone. You won't be able to tell them the truth, but you are a young bride. Seeking out advice wouldn't be unheard of with a busy, career-driven husband and new child."

"I suppose."

"And when our paths cross, Hermione, do pursue a friendship with me. I'm not going to go into it now, but I will tell you that Minerva McGonagall could very much use a friend at that time."

"I will, assuming I'm in the position to do that."

"Good. Have I helped ease your mind?"

"I guess. So there is no witch in his life?"

"No, never has been that I know of. I've never even heard him speak of anyone, truthfully, romantic or otherwise." Minerva drew away and chuckled softly. "And I see that look in your eyes. Do not pity him, Hermione. He will know. He can read people very well. This isn't a seventeen year old young man. He will look twenty-four but will have the experiences of his thirty-six years. He is incredibly astute. Do not underestimate what he sees and therefore knows."

"I know. I just…"

"You want to do that, to be that, which is exactly why I told you what I did. It may take a while, but you have nothing but time. You will both get there in your own time."

"So it would seem. Thank you."

"Now, I do need to speak with Albus. I cannot continue to disappear from my post. Holidays or not, I'm being watched. They think I'll lead them to him. We need to coordinate the details regarding your family and so on."

"Of course. I'll be fine."

"All right. I will miss you, I looked forward to seeing what you were going to do."

"Well, hopefully you'll know, even if you don't know."

"I count on it."

"While the three of you are working whatever you're doing out. Is there parchment? Or paper and a pen?"

"For a letter to Harry?"

"Please."

"Good. He asked me before they left on Friday if you said goodbye. You should find everything you need in the desk over there. Just ask for it."

"Thank you."

She watched as Minerva (how weird was that?) left the room. She took a seat at the desk she mentioned with a sigh. It hadn't completely hit home until now that she would never see Harry or Ron again. Well, she would, but not like this. She'd be old enough to be their grandmother then next time she saw them.

"I'd like paper and pen, please," she said.

And just like that, what she'd asked for was there in front of her. God, she loved magic!

Now just to determine what to say.

Dear Harry:

By the time you receive this I'll be gone. The headmaster has told me he will ensure you get it. I trust that he will.

Please know that I'm okay. My parents are okay. The headmaster and others are just being cautious. I won't be able to write after this, and have been told owls will not be able to find me. Please don't try, we can't risk it. I don't know where we'll be. I'm just told we'll be going somewhere safe.

I don't want to wish you luck, because that implies you need it. I know that you do not. I hope that I will be able to return before this all comes to a close, but I don't know what's going to happen.

Take care of Ron. My best friends. I love you both.

Be well.

This is not goodbye. I will see you again! I promise. Before you know it, I'll be there to remind you to do your homework.

Love,

Hermione

PS Please, Harry, listen to the headmaster on this. I am safe. You trying to find me could endanger more than just me. You Know Who might up his tactics if he thinks someone betrayed him. I will be back and will pester you for details on the OWLs.

She read it over more than once. She was limited in what she could say. What she didn't want was Harry going off half-cocked trying to find her. Or bombarding Hermione Granger with owls that would come back to him. That would concern him, which would lead to distraction. Or someone realizing that she was no longer here for owls to reach.

Harry could not get distracted. He needed to focus on how to defeat Voldemort. Hopefully, their trip to the past would alleviate him needing to. Just in case, though, she didn't want him thinking about anything but the war. And there would still be at least months before they'd do anything that could even remotely effect change. Assuming just changing the circumstances of him not being raised in the orphanage would do something. She'd never know. It was too bad, because it would be interesting to see if they made a difference. 

She saw a tear fall on the desktop, just shy of hitting the paper. She hadn't even realized she was crying.

God she was going to miss him. Thinking back to that first train ride to Hogwarts, she never would have believed they'd be here today. That she'd have, not one but, two best friends.

She folded it neatly, sliding it into an envelope the desk provided. There was no wax or seal, but the envelope was muggle so lickable. Appropriate since she would presumably be writing him from home. She sealed it, writing Harry's name on the outside, and took a deep breath.

Was she really doing this? She'd agreed, but there was still … time to back out.

And yet. She'd been chosen for a reason.

He'd agreed, knowing she was the choice in witches.

She thought over all that Minerva had said earlier. She knew what it was to be laughed at, and picked on. Wanting to fit in, but being unable to because you were just different enough that you weren't accepted. Could she have been sucked into the promise of belonging and power that Voldemort likely offered his followers. He certainly wouldn't have started off with "kill all the muggles" to recruits.

He'd broken into the library for her without additional questions.

He'd brought her clean clothes.

That didn't mean much in the grand scheme of things, but it showed her that he could be … considerate and kind. Intuitive to know that she'd look at the clothes she'd been wearing for days when she got out of the shower and wonder what the point of getting clean was just to put them back on.

He'd left her alone in the library.

She could have left at any time during those three days. She could have gone anywhere.

He'd trusted that she'd given her word and would hold to it.

He had gotten Crookshanks for her.

A man who, from all accounts, had nothing and no one, thought to get her familiar for her.

She pushed the letter off to the side, crossed her arms on the desktop, and set her head on it. She wasn't sure how long they'd be. She wasn't really physically tired. Mentally, though. This had been a bizarre three days.

Hell, it had been a bizarre five years since she'd gotten her Hogwarts letter.

It wouldn't hurt anything if she just shut her eyes for a minute. They'd wake her up. It wasn't as if they were going to send Professor Snape back to 1926 without her.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com