The room got quiet when Severus entered the room a little while later and Severus had to fight the urge to fidget.

"Well, there's a face I haven't seen in a while," Minerva said.

He'd taken the potion privately, wanting to ensure it worked as it should have. Wouldn't that have been something if, after all this planning and readying, the potion hadn't worked as it was supposed to? He'd tested it previously, taking a couple of small doses to effect the deaging for short periods of time. He hadn't done it for any length of time, assuming the witch would not agree to Albus' plan so he would never actually have need to use it for longer than a few hours, a few days. He'd been tempted to test it for the entirety of Christmas holidays, but that wasn't feasible. He never knew when he was going to be summoned.

By either master. Not that Albus seeing him look this young would be problematic exactly. He was the one who told him about this plan being a possibility, after all. Still.

"I do not want to hear it, Minerva," he spat followed by a scowl. As if it wasn't bad enough he had to do something to warrant people believing he gained the witch as his wife. He did not want to put up with Minerva's teasing.

"It wasn't meant as a criticism, Severus. It truly has been years."

He shook his head, daring her to even try to say anything else. He crossed the room to where Minerva and Albus had been talking. He just wanted this done with. How bloody odd the past seventy-two plus hours had been.

He'd been convinced, absolutely and thoroughly certain, that the witch would laugh Albus right out of the room. Why on earth would anyone in their right mind want to give up a bright future for this scheme of Albus'? He was fairly certain at her age, he would have laughed Albus out of the room.

Then again, he supposed he only had to look in a mirror to see what he'd done with his own life. A life, like hers, that academically showed so much promise when he was her age. And here he was, about ready to journey to the past ninety-nine percent certain he was going to continue on the same path he was walking here as a potions professor to generations of dunderheads. He really had nothing to lose, though. He wasn't leaving anyone or a potentially bright future behind. And he had committed to doing whatever it took to defeat Tom. She was under no such pressure.

She hadn't said no, though.

She surprised him, and very few managed to shock him these days. He did not know what she'd done in the library for essentially three days, but had an idea. He knew where his mind would go if he was about to embark on a one-way trip to the past. He wasn't going to say he was familiar enough with her to know how she thought, but he had guesses. He would not interfere, or discourage, her from using whatever information she armed herself with. Honestly, he likely would have done the same thing if he was going anywhere with nothing to his name.

He knew full-well neither truly had any idea what they were going back to. They were going from one wizarding war to another. Add a potentially psychopathic child who happened to be brilliant into the mix, not to mention the muggle things happening. Well, they could be in for an eventful few years.

"Can we just get Miss Granger and get on with this then?"

"Well, at least your personality is intact," she said.

"Very funny. You are hilarious, Minerva. I didn't hear you volunteering to embark on this journey in my stead."

Of course, she wouldn't have been an option because she couldn't have passed for Tom's mum. The twelve years he was able to get the potion to was about the maximum he'd feel comfortable with. Fifteen maybe, but that would be pushing it.

"Any last minute questions, Severus?" Albus asked. Running interference was more like it. Minerva wouldn't be asked to give up literally everything. She could have passed as a widowed grandmother or something. No, only Severus - and it seemed Miss Granger - would be asked to sacrifice everything. He supposed it was a … testament to the fact Albus believed they were the only ones who had a chance at making this scheme work.

"No. I just want to get on with this."

"How long will you have to continue taking the potion?"

"I figure I should consistently for the next ten years or so before I start gradually tapering off. I may change my mind, in either direction, once we get there."

Albus nodded. Did he believe Severus hadn't already thought of that? He knew he couldn't go from looking to be in his mid-twenties to forty over night. He wasn't an imbecile!

"Do we know what Miss Granger's errand was, Severus?"

"I have no idea. She needed me for apparition. She told me when and where to meet her. You did not instruct me to follow her, so I did not."

He wasn't being completely truthful, but he didn't want Albus searching her or anything. She was entitled to her preparations, the same as he was. She did not have accounts to close or anything. She had her mind, and he assumed she put it to work for them, and their well being.

"Quite right. Is there a young man we were not informed of?"

"No," Minerva and Severus both said.

Albus regarded the both of them curiously for a moment Severus noticed. Severus had no idea how he knew without a doubt there was no love interest being left behind by Granger. He assumed Minerva had actual knowledge to go with her protest. Yes, he'd heard the gossip about her and Weasley, but from everything he saw it was just that. Gossip.

"You will have to work with her on things like apparition that she would know being of legal age."

"I am aware, Albus. I am not incompetent nor a dunderhead. We already discussed that Thursday night. We have time."

"Good. All right, well, go fetch your intended then," he said.

"Do not," Severus said.

"That is what she is, Severus. Planned or not…"

"I'm aware of what she is, Albus. Just do not. We're doing what you're asking of us. Leave it be."

He strode to the door then, opening it and sighed not in impatience, oddly enough, but something akin to sympathy. He'd obviously startled her. Her head jerked up from - he guessed - lying on her arms on the desk. She jumped up, knocking the chair over in the process, and spun toward the door. He saw her exhale heavily, and he wasn't sure when - if ever - anyone had been relieved to see him. She tilted her head a bit as she looked at him. And looked. And looked.

Saying nothing. That was unusual.

"What?" he asked, defensively.

She closed the distance between them, standing entirely too close than would be permissible ordinarily. Of course, in a matter of hours they'd be married, so there would no longer be such a thing as ordinary nor not permissible.

She reached with her hand then, and slid her fingers over his cheek and jaw. The touch was not … welcome, but he found that it was not dissatisfactory.

"Miss Granger," he said cautiously. He didn't want to frighten her, but he did not … let … people touch him. He was unaccustomed to anyone wanting to for that matter. The Dark Lord, obviously, but he had no choice in the matter there. And his touches were not the gentle, inquisitive touches this witch was bestowing upon him currently.

"Give a witch a few minutes to adjust to such a change. Is this how you actually looked at that age?"

He scoffed.

"What kind of a question is that? You think I altered my appearance somehow? Not satisfactory? Having second thoughts about chaining yourself to this?"

"Please don't do that. I questioned the need for the potion if you recall, so no that's not it at all. I wasn't sure if your current age, life experiences, scars that are there now that weren't originally, or anything else external might have affected things."

Oh.

It was, truthfully, not a crazy question. He admired her, actually, for thinking that external factors could play a role in the efficacy of the potion. They wouldn't. His scars went with him, and he grimaced at her implying that she realized he had any. Why? Why would she presume? And, yet, he'd survived one war. He supposed it wasn't out of the realm of possibilities that he had been on the receiving end of a hex or a blade at one point.

"No," he said.

"I'm curious by nature, Severus. Please don't assume my asking questions or taking things in means anything other than I want to know the answer."

"We are not alone, Miss Granger."

"The only others here are my head of house and the headmaster, both of whom are aware that we're about to travel seventy years in the past and be married. I think they assume I'd use your name."

He huffed. She was right, of course, but that didn't mean he was going to throw propriety to the wayside on a dime. At least while they were still in 1996. When they got to their new time, their new home, he'd adjust.

He'd have to, or he'd have an unhappy wife on his hands. (There was a thought he'd have to come to a decision on: how to keep a wife happy. He couldn't keep his one friend happy.) But, Merlin, did her agreeing to this mean she was going to … touch him at will?

What was he supposed to do with that?!

He still couldn't believe she said yes. How she could think he knew the first thing about love and a happy marriage was beyond him. Was there anything about him she'd seen to this point to suggest he had such knowledge or expertise? Yet, she trusted that they would go back in time and do that.

"Shall we then?" he asked. "I know Minerva needs to get back to Hogwarts, but wants to ensure we leave the premises safely before she does."

"I know," she said, dropping her hand. Her head was still tilted, though, as she regarded him. There was a glean in her eye that suggested she may not be deeply disappointed. That was an odd thought.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just looking."

He scoffed, turning then, so that he could return to where Albus and Minerva were seated. She followed, as he expected she would.

"Are you ready then, Miss Granger?" Albus asked. He had a twinkle in his eye that suggested the man knew why it took him so long to fetch her from the other room.

"I guess so," she said.

"I have given Severus the documents and money you will need. In the event something happens in your travels tonight I have copies for you as well. Time travel is risky business as you are aware from your use of a time turner. What you're about to do is revolutionary. Your Crookshanks should be fine. A pouch of galleons is in his carrier, again, as a precaution in the event something happens. When you arrive, he will likely be moody so let him out of the carrier cautiously. I will secure his carrier to you, so that you will not inadvertently let go during the trip."

The carrier in question was really more like a cloth sling-like thing, but the feline would be encased in it with no threat of escape.

"Yes, Sir."

Severus watched as she took the paperwork Albus offered her. She still had her notebook, and she put the papers in there before sliding it into her backpack. It wasn't much. A letter to Albus' past self and a set of documents for an identity. The implication was if one of them weren't to make it through the trip through time that they were to try to proceed singularly. Severus had no idea how Albus thought he'd manage to raise a child by himself, but he had to admit he had no doubt that Granger could if she had to.

Albus had assured Severus that accommodations would be made for Hermione as far as housing and money if she were to make it to 1926 and he didn't. He didn't tell Severus what those were, because the wizard said he didn't need to know since it wouldn't happen.

Albus stood then and led the two of them to a small room off of the office. It offered what was little more than a cot. There was a small table next to it and a wash basin, but nothing else. Severus imagined the old man had used it over the years to take catnaps while researching.

"I did not use this room the day you are coming according to my notes. I didn't note every minute detail, but I can usually tell by my entries if this room was used or not. So you should be fine ending up here. When you get there, knock on the door like this." He rapped on the door three times with a long pause between the first two knocks and barely any pause between the second and third. "Do that twice and I will know that it is friend not foe who comes out of this room unexpectedly."

"All right."

"You will have to disillusion this when you arrive. Not even I should see it, Severus, despite what I know will be my curiosity about such a device existing. It did not then. Well, obviously it will once you arrive."

The this in question had to be the time turner, but looked more like a walking stick with a rather large, clever-looking bulb at the top where a hand would ordinarily go. He took a moment to show them how it worked. If they needed to use it again, if they were transported to the wrong date for example, they'd need to know how. The bulb had a catch that opened and inside of it was the sand and the device that made it work. With the assistance of one's wand. The device could not be set without a push from the user's magic. Severus did the honours today, but he had no doubt that the witch had paid close attention so that if she'd have to she would be able to.

"It is set for the proper date and time. I wish you luck, both of you. I also wish you a life full of happiness. There are instructions with your paperwork should the need arise for you to use it again just in case you forget what I've shown you today. I realize it could be years before that possibility presents itself, and if you're thinking of using it, your emotions may be heightened to the point that what you saw here today will not be remembered clearly. I hope that you do not need to use it, but as you are putting your lives on the line, I want you to have an out if necessary. With that in mind, as I promised, there is a second set of identifying documents drawn up for the both of you in case you have to flee. I have included some for young Tom as well in the event that becomes necessary. If other children become involved, ask the present time's me for assistance if identities become necessary for them, too."

"Thank you."

Severus gestured to his bag, that was where he'd put everything Albus had given him to this point that needed to be taken along, and Albus nodded.

"Once you're out of here and safely at your home, ensure it's safely hidden. You do not want this to fall into the wrong hands. We certainly do not want it falling into Tom's hands. Ever."

"We will," Severus said, noting the man did not suggest he destroy it.

Interesting.

Surprising. Truly. He assumed all his platitudes and remarks of ensuring they weren't stranded seventy years ago, having to potentially murder a child, were just that. Platitudes. Saying what needed to be said to get he and Granger to agree to this scheme. He, honestly, had expected the bare minimum and a "you know I can't interfere more than this, Severus" out of Albus.

Some might question why he agreed, believing that was how Albus would operate. Well, because, as much as he hated to admit it, the scheme could work. Could make the world better for many people. He wasn't counting on it making it better for him , but that wasn't important and was rather irrelevant. He wasn't doing this for himself.

The fact remained, Albus was staying true to his word in this. He really was going to give them an out in case anything catastrophic happened and they had to leave even that time. He was glad that was the case. He hoped it would be unnecessary, but he was relieved to know their bases were covered.

They had options. That made him feel better about this, and hopefully, Granger did as well.

He took a deep breath as he regarded the instrument. Granger did the same. There were handles they could both put their hands through, which would result in them clutching the stick part of the device. He supposed that was how they hung on. Interesting. It was like nothing he'd seen before when it came to a time turner.

"Pull up and turn anticlockwise, tapping the stick portion twice here like this."

"All right. Ready then, Miss Granger?"

"I think I am," she said.

He imagined she wondered how she could know if she was truly ready. He wondered the same thing, and he'd known for months this scheme was a possibility.

Granger's eyes fell closed. She was biting her lower lip a little more deeply than he normally observed her doing as she slid her hand through one of the handles. She was scared. Rightfully so. He could admit that what they were about to embark on was frightening. He watched as Albus attached the carrier her Crookshanks was in magically to his soon to be wife. He couldn't hear him moving around or making any sounds, so assumed he was out, as he was supposed to be. He had no idea when he'd come to, nor did he have any idea how long exactly this trip would take.

"Stop that, Miss Granger. You don't want to maim yourself."

"Oh," she said, obviously not even aware she'd been doing it.

"Good luck and God speed," Albus said just as Severus used one hand to pull up and turn the knob anticlockwise before tapping on the stick portion twice as instructed. The handles at his wrist tightened, not uncomfortably but it was definitely a good grip. He could only presume Granger's had done the same.

He had never used a time turner before.

He'd never had reason to, and was admittedly still suspect of this course of action.

If it worked, great. Fantastic. Life as he and Granger knew it would be completely different. A distant memory overshadowed by seventy years worth of new ones.

If it didn't.

Well, he was stuck in the past with this witch for the rest of his life, having to lie and be something - someone - he wasn't to everyone but her.

He was good by now at lying to everyone. That wasn't a problem exactly, but if he was getting a second chance at life, which was in essence how he was looking at this, and was, in the end, the reason he'd agreed when Albus first presented him with the idea.

No Snivellus.

No Dark Lord.

True, he'd still have the Dark Mark, but he would endeavour almost immediately to visit a reputable tattoo parlour to see about getting it altered. He also would have years to come up with a potion, something, to remove the magic that made it work. He wasn't sure either effort at disguising or deactivating it would work, but he was going to try. He hadn't tried previously. Albus had cautioned him against doing so.

Which was his … polite way of saying he didn't want him to do it.

Hopefully, he wouldn't need to worry about the Dark Mark working, because they would have done their jobs and there would be no Voldemort to activate it.

No Lily.

He was surprisingly all right with that. He wasn't sure when that had happened.

She'd changed, too, over the course of their friendship. The Lily he'd met in the play yard would not have taken up friendship with James Potter and Sirius Black. At least he didn't think so. Maybe he'd been blind to her true self all along, just grateful to finally have a friend. He didn't think he had been that blind to how she was. He'd never seen her in school prior to Hogwarts to know what she was like or what kind of friends she had that weren't him.

Granger from his understanding had used a time turner, but only to go back a few hours in a day. He had nothing to compare this trip to, but he found it unsettling to be stationary yet drift so obviously into the past. And catch glimpses of only one specific place during that trip to their destination.

Some moments they'd see Albus on the cot, sometimes he'd be laying on it and others sitting on it. Some moments Albus could be seen entering or exiting the room. Some moments they'd see him using the wash basin. More than once they witnessed the headmaster in a less than ideal position. The old man must have forgotten about those dalliances. Severus doubted he'd want anyone to see them, no matter how quickly they were witness to them.

Finally, their journey stopped. They were physically in the room and there were no more glimpses of Albus, or any others, in the room. Somehow they'd both come to be seated on the floor, still gripping the time turner via the handles they'd put their hands through. Good lord, if the straps hadn't had a grip on their wrist and forearm and they'd let go! They could be anywhere!

Both were silent for quite some time. He felt … well, physically okay, but very much as if he'd extended himself.

"Well, that was…" she said.

"Yes," he drawled. He reached for his bag and drew out a couple pieces of chocolate. He handed her one.

"Oh, thank you. I didn't even think of that!"

He scoffed. Not at her necessarily, but just that she seemed so disappointed she hadn't thought of it.

Of course she hadn't brought much of anything with her. She had her school backpack, which he assumed had a few things in it beyond the papers Albus gave her.

She took a bite of the chocolate and groaned. "I'm not sure I've thought chocolate ever tasted so good before in my life."

He shook his head, taking a bite as well. He couldn't deny he almost wanted to agree with her. He wouldn't say that, though.

"Were you surprised Albus, I suppose I should call him that and not headmaster, yeah? It feels disrespectful, but I suppose I should get used to it. This Albus doesn't know he'll be come that. Minerva, too. Everybody, really! Anyway, were you surprised? That he picked you, I mean?"

"I can admit I was to some extent when he first presented me with the idea. It was a while ago, about the time Potter was expelled. He shelved it for whatever reason at that time. He never told me why he did, he rarely gives me reasons for much of anything. I was already his spy, and had been for years, so he knew I was trustworthy. I'm not like Black who liked to accessorize each day of the week with a different witch," he blushed then.

He actually felt himself blush. Was he thirty-six or not? Merlin. It wasn't as if he was talking about himself womanizing. Or what Black did with the witches in question.

"Yes, I think I get the picture," she said quickly.

Thank God for her mind. Some women would have been clueless as to what he was implying. Or, if they understood, would have fallen into a simpering fit at the indelicacy of talking about Black's known womanizing.

"He also knew that I was the one with less to lose in a manner of speaking. I have no remaining family, my home as you saw is dismal. It would have been torn down years ago if I hadn't continued paying what was required to keep it standing. There was nothing pressing holding me there. As he mentioned, I'm easily replaceable by Horace."

"I don't know about easily. You are a good professor. Tough and exacting? Absolutely, but you have to be. I know people like Neville were frightened of you, but I'm not sure many of them truly stop to consider how dangerous the subject you teach is."

"Quite," he said. He'd been trying to instill that idea for over a decade in his students. So few actually understood. She was one of those few.

"We kind of touched on it before leaving, but is that the route you are thinking you will take? Teaching at Hogwarts, I mean?"

"I've had months to think about it since he first presented me with the idea. At first I thought of exactly what he said, taking my knowledge and starting an apothecary, and getting as far away from Hogwarts and the educational system as I could. You say I'm a good professor, but I don't see it that way."

He thought he was capable, but he'd been thrust into a position that he really didn't want. He didn't think he was ready for it either. Albus nor Voldemort had cared, though. So, he imagined there was some … bitterness associated with the position.

"And now?"

He was quiet for a moment. It was odd to have someone to discuss this with. Albus never actually discussed anything with Severus. Not like this. He had his opinions. His plans. And his discussions were generally to do and say what he could to sway Severus to his way of thinking.

Would she think him a fool? She'd said she believed he was a capable professor, so he hoped not. And, well, if she laughed at him for the audacity to think he could succeed as a professor. Wouldn't he need to think about that? She was familiar with his teaching abilities.

"As you said, it makes the most sense. We, at least one of us, will need to be able to keep an eye on him without making it obvious that's what we're doing. I think I would like to attempt teaching without being a spy. Without bitterness and orders being part of the deal. With a little more time on my hands and a little less stress. Be able to teach students the intricacies so that they might get excited about the subject, too. Without a war. I realize there will be a war going on, but it's not one I will be as directly involved with as I was the one we just left."

"I understand."

"House politics has always been an issue, but not quite to the extreme as the past twenty-five years or so. Or at least so Albus has told me. So, I should not be expected to treat those of muggleborn backgrounds as lesser. Headmaster Dippet has been rumoured to be a fair and capable headmaster. It could be … enjoyable. Being able to actually teach potions, I mean. Horace while capable," he shrugged.

"Is not you," she whispered.

"No, he is not."

It sounded as if he was incredibly full of himself. He knew that, but it was the truth. Contrary to what many believed, he was not conceited about things he didn't have the room to be. (Which he realized also probably would sound incredibly conceited, but it was the truth. He knew his limitations and what he excelled in.)

"Would you feel bad putting him out of a job?"

"No, he always seemed to have plenty of hobnobbing to do. He wouldn't be the professor yet anyway as Albus said. So I wouldn't be putting him out of a job exactly. So long as I prove myself a capable instructor, which I believe I can. I will merely be preventing him from getting a job at Hogwarts."

"I suppose. When did he start?"

"Mm, 1930 or 1931, I believe." He peered at her with an arched brow. "You mean you don't know?"

She sniggered. Good, she'd known he was … teasing her. It was well known among the professors that she knew things about Hogwarts some of them didn't due to her so thoroughly reading the book about the school.

"Shockingly, his career at Hogwarts wasn't my focus when studying Hogwarts: A History ."

"That is incredibly shocking indeed. And as I mentioned, we can discuss an apothecary as an option for employment for you. I could supply you with the more complex orders at first, you are competent enough to do the basics people would come for. Eventually, you would be able to do them all. It might take time given my schedule, assuming I get the position, but I could ensure you become a potions mistress if that is something you desire. I have confidence in your abilities and that role being possible for you based on the skills you have displayed. I would consider it a great point in my favour if I could get you to not count on the book and steps so concretely. Especially as we'll be in a different time, when various ingredients you're familiar with for certain potions may not be available for a few reasons. The plant doesn't exist yet, or does but is cost prohibitive, and so on. And we have to spend the next nine months doing something!"

She laughed softly. "I suppose that we do."

"You realize that while Albus says he's setting us up with a home, we will likely have to reside at Hogwarts if that is the path I choose to take."

"Yes."

"If we decide to take on Riddle as our own, not as adoptive parents, we will have to come up with an excuse as to why you cannot join me those first few months. Or why you're never seen at least."

"Well, wouldn't pregnancy complications be sufficient? Maybe Headmaster Dippet would allow you to come home evenings or weekends if he thought that was a factor."

"Perhaps. Doubtful, especially in my first year. Dippet doesn't know me. Weekends perhaps, evenings, likely no."

"Oh," she said, obviously not having thought about that.

"I will ensure you are not bored to death."

"I appreciate that."

"We will … think of something. I am not unprepared. Due at the end of December, you should have a few months of freedom and maybe we can go elsewhere a time or two."

"Oh really?" Her eyes brightened at that and he shook his head. Of course she would like that idea.

"It's a thought. Please don't start bombarding me with ideas of where we can go immediately. I can see you already have them."

"Oh, yes! I want to go everywhere!"

He chuckled. He could admit to being curious to see things at this time, too. Hell, he hadn't used the time Tom was inactive to travel even though he could, and likely should, have. What a fool he'd been, wrapped up in his own feelings of guilt, sorrow, self-pity, and anger.

"Admittedly it would not be a hardship to cater to your desire on that. We will see." He was glad she liked that idea, too.

"Thank you!"

"Are we both well then? You have all ten fingers and toes? And everything else you are to have? Your faculties, agreeing to this scheme to begin with, notwithstanding?"

"I do," she said, wiggling her fingers at him to stress her agreement.

"Good. Your beast's carrier stayed in place, too." He waved his wand quickly over the feline, ascertaining that while he was still sedated he was alive. "It would appear all three of us are good."

He went to the door then, knocking on it as Albus had shown him. The door flew open and a much younger Albus Dumbledore was looking at them. This Albus was only a little older than Severus was. Well, how Severus would have appeared before the deaging potion.

"Professor Dumbledore," Severus offered. "My name is Severus Snape. This is Hermione Granger. You have sent us to you at this time and location."

He regarded them. He was clearly already stressed, but his eyes were wise and calculating as he took them both in.

"Do you have proof?"

"I do," he said. "May we," he asked, gesturing to the doorway and the possibility of allowing them out of this room they'd been in for longer than this man standing before them realized.

"Yes," he said. His eyes narrowed as he took them in. Their style of dress would appear odd and unfamiliar. "I suppose. You wouldn't have access to this room without my granting it."

The wizard sat at the desk and watched as he and Granger looked at the office. Severus imagined she was taking in the differences seventy years made the same as he was. She'd only been here twice. He, on the other hand, had more than a few occasions to visit Albus at this particular location. There weren't many changes, at least not as far as the furnishings. The decor was different. Still eclectic, but different. The desk certainly was the same one it had been as when they left. It looked far newer now than it had when they left.

"Would either of you care for a candy," he said, gesturing to a bowl on his desk and Granger laughed.

"That was amusing?" Albus asked.

It wasn't often Severus saw Albus looked confused. He would thank the witch later for putting that look on his face. He had no idea why she was laughing, as he wouldn't be headmaster for a while yet to have a candy dish she'd seen.

She hadn't stopped laughing to this point either. He supposed he could see the humour in this man, seventy years in the past essentially offering candies the same as he did as headmaster. Now that he looked closer at the dish they even looked like lemon drops.

"Really, Granger? You assured me you had your faculties. I'm beginning to think you, in fact, do not."

She looked properly chastised, however, it took a moment for her to be able to respond.

"I'm sorry. It's just that was not what I was expecting him to say and, yet, it's exactly what I'd expect him to say."

Severus pulled a chair out for her to have a seat in whenever she'd calmed herself and was willing to do so before he himself took a seat. Albus arched a brow at him doing so. He supposed it was impolite to sit before her, but well. It was Granger after all, and he wanted to get on with this. He did not want to stand around waiting for her to be herself once more.

"As I said, Professor. You sent us here."

He opened his bag, summoning the letter and paperwork Albus had entrusted him with. He handed the items to Albus and sat back in the chair.

The wizard read the letter first, drawing it away and staring at them for a moment or two periodically before returning his gaze to the papers. Granger had indeed calmed herself during Albus' reviewing of the letter and the paperwork and seated herself in the chair he'd proffered for her.

The silence was a little unsettling. This was not the man he'd come to know over the years, so he really wasn't sure how to read him at this point in time.

"And you both have agreed to this?" he asked finally.

He set the letter and other paperwork aside on the desk. One hand rested over it. His eyes nor his posture betrayed what he was thinking.

"Freely?"

The last query was directed more at Granger than himself. Of course it would be, because why would there be a question as to whether he entered into this scheme without coercion!

"Yes," Severus said.

"I have."

"You are only sixteen the letter says? To Mr. Snape's thirty-six."

"For five more months, but my head of house was with us when I was presented with the idea and agreed to it. So there was a witness. I am under no coercion or anything. I was told if I didn't agree I'd be obliviated, nothing more."

"I see," he said, steepling his hands under his chin. "Well, first things first then," he said, fingertips drumming over the papers before he reclined a bit in his chair.

"You can never under any circumstances tell me anything of the future. I may ask, I may say it's in the best interest of something or another, but you must not tell me. You may read the letter I sent with you to myself, but I basically said it was a world-threatening event. As I'm in the middle of my own world-threatening event, which I seemingly survive since I'm alive to write this letter in the year 1996, and I'm sending you back to this time to stop something else. Well, that tells me it must be important and, indeed, world-threatening."

"It is," they both said.

"You can never under any circumstances tell anyone your true names, or where and when you are from. I will trust you to ensure the device used is sufficiently difficult to find by anyone other than yourselves. I do say you won't be going back, but I'd hate to destroy the device, and I didn't say to. It says he, I, did not inform you of the names chosen?"

"He did not," Severus said.

"Well, then allow me to introduce you to yourselves."

He chuckled. Yes, Albus would find that amusing, no matter which Albus they were dealing with.

"Erik Magnus Prins and Marie Rose Clary. I must think I owe you a great deal, Miss Granger, because you are the descendant of an illegitimate, yet magical, heir of Francois Clary. Are you familiar with him?"

"Not particularly," she said, and Severus could almost see the wheels turning in her head.

Albus, obviously not recognizing the look, continued on.

Severus searched his memory banks for the name himself. Was Francois Clary a name of some import he should know? He didn't recognize it if it was.

"He had a dozen or so children over two marriages, with only two or three passing away before reaching adulthood. I say only because it is not unusual, even now, to lose children young. I hope where you come from things have improved so parents don't suffer such losses. Here nor there," he said, waving his hand. "One daughter went on to marry Napoleon's brother and another was engaged to Napoleon for a while. She married and went on to become the queen of Norway and Sweden."

"Oh," she said. Severus suspected books about Francois Clary would make their way into Hermione's reading material.

"So, half-blood as Erik here will be, but certainly of a solid background. The illegitimate part means relatively little these days especially for those royal types, and being that you're female. I presume it would matter even less where you come from."

"Prince, really?" Severus said, interjecting. It was rude he realized, but how could Albus be such a dunderhead about his name! "He went into such detail for Granger's history but kept my mother's maiden name for me? That will not work, Albus. I am of the Prince line! They would surely know whether an Erik Magnus ever existed. My mother will be at Hogwarts in about fifteen years, which is a time that I need to be there."

"Ah, I think you misunderstand. You are of the P-R-I-N-C-E line my notes say, this is P-R-I-N-S. You are both of Scandinavian descent. You can come up with your own stories as to why you have British accents. I will set you up in the home I suggest in my letter, as it is indeed empty. You will have to remain homebound for the most part while we get you an interview, Severus. I sing your praises as a potions master and professor of the subject, so I think it's a formality. The home will snot be put into your name until after the job has been secured. It would look suspect if you purchased such a property without knowing you had solidified a job. You may take in your surroundings around the property, but use caution that you are not seen by many until after you've secured an interview and then, hopefully, a job."

"Understood," he said. He wasn't sure the difference in spellings wasn't some cruel joke on the older Albus' part. Prins? Really? What was the man thinking!

"You may, of course, make yourselves comfortable there. While you're officially here for the interview process, by all means take your young wife out to see the sights. Prior to that, stay as close to home as you can. There are no elves. If you need some…"

"No," Hermione said quickly.

Severus chuckled while Albus arched an eyebrow in obvious curiosity at the emotion her one word response betrayed. His former boss, and bane of his existence for the past fifteen years second only to the Dark Lord, glanced from her to him. Evidently, he wanted to ensure this witch truly spoke for both of them. He would be unused to witches being so … outspoken about elves, or much of anything really.

"It would be best at this time if we do not have any until we have gotten settled in and established ourselves. I will let you know when, and if, our needs change with regard to household assistance, thank you."

"Very well. I will ensure that the house is cleaned thoroughly and sufficiently stocked with all the necessities, including your kitchen. Should you need more before we get an interview set up, the elf I will be using is Mintzy. You can call for her, but she will not appear unless you do. I will instruct her, after today, only to come and go from the kitchen area. She is loyal, so I have no qualms about assigning her to help you if necessary."

"Thank you, Sir," Professor Snape said.

Albus did in fact call for the elf and instruct her where to go and what to do. She disappeared with a bow and a pop after eyeing the two of them curiously. Severus supposed the way they were dressed was most unusual for 1926.

"There will be a child involved in this from my understanding?"

"Yes," they both said.

"Given Miss Granger's age, and that she did not actually receive parental permission. I have to ask. You are both aware the age of majority is seventeen?"

Severus knew he was blushing. Again.

Damn the man.

Of course he knew. Did he think he was an imbecile? Did he think he would send someone back seventy years who didn't know basic things about their world?

"Yes, of course, Sir," Hermione interjected, and Severus was somewhat grateful that she did.

Her response was much more polite than his would have been. Pissing this wizard off would not be a good idea. They still needed him for now.

"I assume, as I said, that was why my head of house was present. She, of course, could not offer parental consent to this, but did ensure I wasn't coerced or promised anything. Or made to agree to something I didn't wish to. No expectations or demands have been placed upon me, Professor. Other than to be a wife to Severus, and mother to said child. If your future self did not go into more detail as to the origin of that child, I don't think that we should either. I assure you that I am not expected to be pregnant within weeks. I presume, and have faith, that Severus will give me time to get acquainted with the differences in this time from our own and such before any such expectations are in place once I have reached the appropriate age."

"Indeed. I am here to serve a purpose."

"That you are, but you are still human, and a young man, so had to be sure it was said. I may have known you both in 1996, but I do not here. You will not serve your purpose if there's a whiff of impropriety surrounding anything about either of you."

"You have the ability to update - or adjust - records, I presume. I'd like to take the next few months and work with Granger on a number of things, but primarily ensure that she has the documentation showing she's taken her OWLs and sat her NEWTs. We'll have six months before I start teaching, presuming I get the job for the upcoming school year. I think I could sufficiently tutor her to accomplish her taking both."

"Both?"

"Yes," Severus said, and he didn't doubt it was true. It might actually be somewhat … enjoyable to tutor someone as intelligent as she was one on one. "The NEWTs may need to sat later, but I am confident in my estimations."

"I have indicated to do as you ask if it's within my power. So, yes, that can be arranged. Just keep me apprised."

"Thank you. She hasn't said, and wouldn't because that's the way she is. She shows by doing not saying, but she was on track to doing very well on both OWLs and NEWTs. And while I realize that the scores might not be shared, I want her to have that completion and the possibility to do more if she wants."

Albus removed his glasses then and regarded the both of them closely. Likely what Severus just said was … unusual. Wanting his wife to accomplish things. To succeed, independently of him. He did, though. If she wanted to be a librarian, fine. University, though, to study to be a nurse or something wasn't a crazy notion.

"Very well. I trust you'll let me know when the records need to be done. Anything else?"

Severus couldn't really think of anything. He just wanted it said. Here. Now. That this witch would be able to sit those exams. The older Albus had made it sound as if there was little more than being a librarian or primary school teacher available to her. He could admit, with as trying as Tom was likely to be, she'd be the one with her hands full most of the time. Even in 1996 that role fell to mothers more than fathers. However, he wanted her to have documentation that she completed her education, so that she could do something more if she wanted. Selfish, maybe, but he did not want her resenting him fifty years from now. And he had to be the one to speak up and say something. She couldn't. Well, she could, but she would be disregarded, generally speaking. This Albus Dumbledore didn't know her.

"Nothing that I can think of, no."

"Shall we get the most immediately pressing item seen to then? That being your marriage. Then we shall go over the other details in the paperwork, like your vault. And then I will take you to your new home. I imagine you're ready to obtain some sustenance and rest. I'd be interested in what such a journey feels like. Once you've acclimated, of course."

"Of course, and yes," Severus said.

Hermione said nothing, but she gave a nod. So, it seemed neither of them was chomping at the bit to get the marriage part of the plan behind them. It had to be done, though. They couldn't wait. He had to be able to introduce her as his wife from the beginning.

Within a matter of several minutes they were joined in matrimony as Erik Magnus and Marie Rose Prins. A wave of Albus' wand, and some magical lights that swarmed around their hands like very small and busy glowworms that he'd only seen pictures of, and they were bonded and wed.

Just like that.

Severus imagined she'd never seen a couple bonded magically, so the lights were probably new to her. Probably best she was intrigued by those versus thinking on what exactly she had just committed herself to. Albus turned his back to them then without a word, and Hermione looked from Albus to Severus who he was sure was looking uncertain. She, for her part, looked as if she was expecting something

"I think you're supposed to kiss me," she whispered and he shook his head, unable to stop the low chuckle from escaping. Ordinarily, he would probably feel embarrassment at her having to tell him that. However, the peculiarity of this whole situation offset that it seemed. If this wasn't the oddest wedding ever. Well, he'd love to hear the stories of any odder.

He leaned in then and did just as Granger - his wife - suggested. He was not expecting her to kiss him back. It was little better than a chaste kiss, but she did kiss him.In fact, she gave a soft sound as he drew away that he was quite certain he'd remember for quite some time. She nipped at her lower lip then, offering him a smile that he knew reflected her embarrassment before she cleared her throat.

He was certain he was as relieved as Granger clearly was that Albus had turned away. As odd as the circumstances were, and given this man didn't know Severus from Adam, he was appreciative of the moment of privacy they'd been given to seal their binding and vows. Evidently, even this Albus realized Severus wouldn't want an audience while kissing this witch who he had just bound himself to for the rest of his days.

They sat then and went over the other items in the paperwork. Granger was paying attention, but clearly rather bored. He supposed she hadn't been privy to things like household expenses and property maps before now. Albus, too, directed the conversation at Severus as this Albus wouldn't have a clue just how intelligent the witch in the room with them was. He had no doubt she'd remember everything said here today, and be able to repeat it to him if he found it necessary.

"So that's all taken care of now. Since neither of you have questions or concerns let's get you so you're in a position to rest. Mintzy and whoever she recruited will be done by now. It's time to visit where you will be calling home," Albus said.

He apparated them to an obviously muggle domicile, explaining things that seemed to be focused on that portion of the property. It was a nice home, muggle or not. Severus thought he could live there rather easily. Mintzy had evidently been tasked with readying it as well.

Albus walked with them up the pathway that apparently led to the home they'd actually be living in. He remembered now Albus mentioned it was unplottable, the password passed to them in his office earlier. He stopped at the outskirts of the property, Hermione and Severus followed suit. It was a more than impressive property. Severus wasn't sure what he'd envisioned Albus giving them, but something this … grand hadn't been it.

Then he remembered: they needed to fit in with pureblood society. Albus' intentions were not just pureblood society, but wealthy society. This home, and its surrounding property, would certainly aid them in doing so.

"This is where I will leave you and let you acclimate yourselves to your home and surroundings privately."

"Thank you, Professor," Severus said.

"I think Albus is appropriate given the circumstances, Severus. Or I should say Erik. For both of you. I will be in contact as soon as I've arranged for an interview. In the meantime, if you need anything, let me know. And good luck to you both."

"Thank you, Albus."

They watched as he apparated away. Severus wondered briefly, not for the first time, as they walked the muggle portion of the property, who these people were to Albus that he'd ended up the secret keeper. He hadn't offered the information, and Severus knew the man well enough to know that meant it was none of Severus' business.

"I guess he is taking care of us," Hermione said once Albus had left them to explore. It was a rather impressive large home. The muggle home that was visible from the road was nice in its own right. Small, and in no way pretentious or attention-getting, which she imagined was the point. Quaint, she imagined some would call it. Big enough for a family of three to be comfortable in, certainly.

"Well, if he wants us to blend in…"

"I suppose. Do you know where we are?"

"Not yet. Give me a bit to get my bearings about me."

"Of course. I wasn't trying to be pushy. Do I call you Erik?"

"I should think so, Marie, even privately."

"Well, you hadn't exactly given me permission…"

"And yet you did it anyway, more than once, and I said nothing. While I admit it is … odd, as I'm unaccustomed to such informality. This is no longer a formal situation, is it? You are now legally and magically my wife. I will not go through life with you calling me Sir."

Well, that relieved her to no end. She wasn't sure what he expected. No matter what perceptions were with the deaging potion. Well, he was still up until three days ago, her professor and nearly twenty years older than her. There were some men who wouldn't let a shift in their dynamic, that being marriage, change things. She was glad he was not one of them. She didn't want to go through life calling him sir either.

"Thank you then. I just didn't want to appear disrespectful. I wasn't trying to be before either. I know this situation is unusual anyway."

"You are fine. Shall we walk around some then?"

She slid her hand into the crook of his offered arm. She felt somewhat giddy that he was doing even that much. He certainly didn't have to. Proof that he truly did think that they were in this together? That she wasn't just a tag-along, an afterthought, in Albus' plan.

What they saw of the grounds and exterior was very spacious with the potential of being very nice. It had obviously been unkempt beyond just the current winter season. They committed to explore the property more later, as it seemed rather vast, and both seemed more interested in seeing the inside of the house. And getting some food and rest.

It would not do for them to be seen by anyone quite yet, though it appeared the road was a ways away from the home they would actually be residing in. Albus said it was unplottable, but where those boundaries were he said he wasn't entirely sure. Thankfully, the pathway they walked along from the muggle home they took to get back here was subtle so they shouldn't have to worry about curious neighbours.

Luckily, there was only one road. (Obviously there had to be others in the area, but around their immediate vicinity.) They wagered as long as they were out of view from it, they were good since no one would be showing up here unexpectedly to look for them. They only knew Albus.

For now.

They also seemed to have quite a bit of land between them and any neighbors. Still, no use risking it. There looked to be plenty to explore without them venturing very far from the house until Severus had a job, or at the very least an interview. Looking at houses while he was interviewing wouldn't be unheard of.

She saw evidence of what had once been gardens as well as a paddock and stables as they walked. There were also buildings visible that she assumed at one time housed other animals, too. She grew excited at the thought of all that she could do with this place. It had obviously seen better, grander days, but there was so much potential here. She hoped Severus could appreciate she was not afraid to get her hands dirty nor was she squeamish. It was currently 1926, he had to know his history as well as she did, if not better, to know what was coming.

"Do you ride horses," she asked him, glancing up at him from his side. Standing next to him like this, she realized how much taller than her he was. She really hadn't had much reason to notice before now. She liked that he adjusted his gait so that she was not struggling to keep up with him as they walked.

"I'm sorry?" he asked.

She supposed it was an unusual question to ask without reason. She gestured in the direction of where she saw the paddock and stables. "Do you ride?"

"Oh," he said.

Had he not noticed the stables until now? Or had it just not occurred to him that horses would belong there?

"I have. I don't know that I excel at it and haven't done it often, but enjoyed it when I did well enough."

"Will we have them?"

"Horses?" He asked, turning his gaze on her. She nodded. "If you would like to ride, then I see no reason why we couldn't. On the other hand, if you merely want to say that you own horses, and have no desire to actually use them. Well, there are better things we could spend money on."

"Well, it would be something to teach him, would it not? A potential skill and hobby. Something he can do at the house, if we choose to homeschool him that's a physical activity."

He nodded, regarding her with … was that interest she saw in his eyes now.

"Are you good enough to do that? I think that exceeds my capabilities. Teaching him, I mean."

"I can hold my own."

"Really?"

He sounded as if he doubted her. How dare he! She remembered Minerva's words, and took a deep, calming breath. Starting an argument freshly into this would not be wise. She didn't want this man angry with her from the get go. He wouldn't know any more about her personal life away from Hogwarts than she did about his.

"I rode from the time I was three. Ponies, of course at first. Then about five, I suppose, I transitioned to a horse. My parents' were at their wits end with what to do with me since they couldn't put me into school yet. I failed miserably at dance. Piano lessons I was better at, and stuck with that for many years. Lessons were only thirty minutes, eventually sixty, one day a week. I didn't start those until I was five. I was bored out of my mind, at least Mum tells me. They had a friend who suggested horseback riding. I took to it easily for some reason. I started competitively two or three years before Hogwarts and then had to quit, obviously. I rode during summers and holidays, but it wasn't quite the same. In fact," she said, glancing up at him again.

Oh, there was a thought. Would he enjoy it, she wondered? Would he agree to it? Or would he dismiss her idea as being frivolous?

"Yes." He sounded amused.

"Well, I assume you know how to make an unauthorized portkey."

"I do," he said, sounding cautious.

"I was thinking maybe we could go to the American Kentucky Derby in May."

"Why?"

He didn't sound … opposed, merely curious as to why she'd want to do that. That encouraged her to finish saying what she'd thought of. Would she have if he'd been dismissive or sounded as if her questions irritated him? She wasn't sure. It was just a silly idea that came to her, but it could be fun.

"Why not? We could get dressed up in fancy muggle clothes and see horses race. If we really want to have fun with it, we could smuggle in the ingredients to make our own mint juleps before we go to the race. I've always wanted to taste one, and to do so all dressed up in finery would be fun. We have a chance to see America during Prohibition, Erik. Wouldn't that be exciting?"

"I can admit it would be interesting to witness a bit of that piece of history in person."

She gasped, a bit surprised that he agreed with her interest in seeing that. History was so fascinating, and they now had the chance to see some of it unfold. A lot of it unfold. Well, the next seventy years' worth anyway. She clutched his arm just a bit tighter for a second. "Well, think on it. It would be kind of fun, and it's not as if we have anything else to do until you start working. Presuming you get the professor's job anyway."

Obviously, if he didn't get a position at Hogwarts then he'd likely go the apothecary route. That would result in them not having so much free time. Probably very little actually.

"True. And I suppose you are deserving of some sort of pomp to go with becoming a wife."

She bit her lower lip a bit at that. That he thought she deserved something. That she was a wife. She was his wife. In reality she was Hermione Jean Snape, though no one but the two of them, and Albus, would ever know that.

How … peculiar the past few days were.

"Mm, that wasn't why I suggested it, but yes. It could be like a honeymoon! No one would ever see us again! We could be tourists!"

He chuckled as he produced the key Albus had given him that would open the door. There was a second one he'd kept with the rest of the things for now. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, gesturing for her to wait.

She hesitated at the threshold, glancing at him curiously. Had he heard or seen something?

"I trust that Albus - either of them - wouldn't knowingly set us up in a cursed home, but let's just make sure we're not crossing the threshold into a trap of some sort."

She gave him a few minutes to check out the reception hall, he tilted his head in a "you can come in now" gesture and she stepped inside. There were no elves as Albus had mentioned. Mintzy, and whoever helped her, had obviously been busy after she was asked to ensure the house was clean and stocked with supplies.

"Shall we explore then?"

It took them a while to take it all in. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting when the headmaster said he'd be setting them up in a home. Something similar to the muggle residence visible from the street. Sufficient for their needs.

This was … well, grand. A home that would rival any of the wealthy purebloods they were likely to encounter in this time.

There were two wings, each four floors high. The one wing, clearly meant to be lived in, had ten bedrooms and six bathrooms in addition to the master suite that consisted of two bedrooms with a shared bathroom and huge walk-in closet. She'd blushed a bit at the sight of the tub. Whether it was the previous occupants' intentions or not, she was fairly certain that she and Severus could fit in the tub more than comfortably together. Thankfully, he was perusing the closet while she was looking at the bathroom, so he did not see her reaction to the tub. Or what she'd thought upon viewing it.

She wasn't even sure where the thought had come from. She'd certainly never thought about taking a bath with a man before. Best not to think about where the idea came from.

For now anyway.

There was a reception hall, kitchen, study, library, drawing room, dining room, formal dining room, music room, billiards and card room.

The two floors meant for living versus sleeping had two bathrooms each, which considering there was only two of them at the moment was more than sufficient.

They also had a two-story ballroom in one wing that had its own apparition area and foyer separate from the house's regular entrances with an additional two bathrooms off of it. The ballroom took up three floors of its wing in its height with the fourth floor consisting of a couple of sitting rooms.

There was also a lovely conservatory, staff quarters off the kitchen via an entrance off the pantry, and a cellar with dungeons which made Hermione shiver at the thought of. There was also an attic, which contained nothing but dust from what they could tell when they looked in. The conservatory looked out over what she imagined would be one of the gardens.

The home was furnished, every room, complete with paintings on the walls, and nicely, too. Nothing she saw screamed that it needed to be replaced. Certainly, none of it was offensive or hideous.

"Did Albus give us money for furniture? I feel somewhat bad taking it if he did," she asked.

"I think Albus wanted to be sure we - meaning you - were happy where we are. If what you see is suitable, then I shall put it away for a rainy day."

She nodded, eyeing the room they were in currently with a more frivolous eye. Knowing that in a few years things would not be easy, and that anything extra they'd put away would likely come in handy.

"We both know those are coming," she said softly.

He nodded simply.

"You will not be destitute, Hermione. I did not agree to this, bring you seventy years in the past to have you starve and go without. I swear to you, between my savings and what Albus provided us with, we will be fine."

"I believe you," she whispered.

She trusted him. She really did. She just knew that tough days were coming. They both knew that they were, without question or doubt. That many would starve, many would go without, many would die. No one else did.

"I made notes myself, knowing what we would be presented with. Would you like to see?"

"Your library excursion, I presume?"

"Yes," she said. "Let's get comfortable, yeah?"

They sat in what would likely be their room if - when - they got to the point of sharing. It was bigger than the other bedroom, so it would make sense to share this one.

At least she hoped he planned on sharing it with her, eventually. She certainly didn't plan on sleeping separately from her husband the next hundred or so years.

His or her room for now.

As it was clearly the main master bedroom, she wondered if he would let her have it, or take it for himself. The second bedroom their bathroom and closet connected to wasn't as large but not cramped either. This one had a sitting area with a table big enough for them to both sit at as well as accompanying chairs, which they'd both used their wands to clean off despite it appearing the elves did a suitable job. Neither doubted the elves were thorough, it was just a habit she supposed for both of them, especially knowing the house had been closed up for a while. The other bedroom was really just a bedroom with very little extra space for a table and chairs or anything beyond the things commonly found in one.

She slid the notebook to him and watched as he paged through it. She was a little nervous as to what he might say or think.

"This is…" he said, paging through it a second time.

"I know." She was rather proud of what she'd accomplished.

"And you did this in a matter of seventy-two hours or so?"

The notebook was a breakdown of a variety of things.

First were various fashion trends, for both of them. And children. As well as household furnishings and decor. She didn't go into great detail with that, but she had looked at things.

Then she'd researched sporting events: winners (and losers) of the Kentucky Derby, World Series, boxing matches, football matches, Olympics, and so on throughout the years. She'd also included the odds on the winning team actually being that at the beginning of each season as well as at the beginning of the actual series. This was not documented for every year, as she couldn't find it listed for every single year. There were results for quidditch matches as well.

There were also dates of important events that might affect their livelihood like the Depression and World War II. Though, she was confident he would know those dates the same as she did.

"We cannot…"

"I'm not suggesting that we make millions gambling, but you and I are practical people, Erik. We are by ourselves, and are going to be responsible for a difficult child at best from the sounds of it. One who will be required to be kept busy and occupied. Entertained. Stimulated. We have to find things to challenge his mind. There are no televisions, video games, or computers here. I admit that I grew up with a level of comfort, and would like to provide that for him. I don't know Albus as well as you do, so I didn't know what he views as comfortable. I simply wanted to be sure that we have the means to survive if we have to go that route. I am not doubting your abilities to support us, truly. I believe in you, and that you did not bring me here to fail. I wouldn't have come here if I thought otherwise. We do not know what is going to happen. Albus cannot predict with certainty that you will get and retain a job at Hogwarts. Horace must have kept it for several years for a reason. I'm not implying that he's better than you. I can't imagine that he would be, but Albus just cannot know for certain what's going to happen for the next seventy years. So, yes, I took advantage of the fact that we will know these things. Just in case. I don't consider it a crime to ensure that we eat and have a roof over our heads! Not to mention, we have no idea what we might face along the way, when we may have to make a decision about that boy. We may not be able to stop at our vault before we leave if we really have to go on the run. So, I wanted to be sure we had a way to survive."

"It's not a crime. I was just ensuring that you realized my goal is not to…"

"I do! Again, I am not daft, and would appreciate it if you not treat me as if I might be. Albus wouldn't have chosen me for this if he thought I was, nor would you have agreed. Give me some credit. It's a just in case."

"Do you even like sports? I didn't get the impression you did. At least listening to Weasley whining about your lack of interest in quidditch."

She was admittedly surprised he noticed that, but then she supposed Ron was fairly vocal about it more than once or twice.

"I enjoyed watching games with my dad, but no it wasn't something I'd go crazy for. However, he liked American baseball for some reason. I could see Babe Ruth play. He used to talk about him all of the time when I was little. That," she said, getting teary eyed. It was the first time she'd really allowed herself to think about the fact she'd never see them again. She wiped the tears away. She knew he saw them, but he said nothing. "Well, that would be very cool. To answer your question, though, not particularly. I know of no other things people can bet on, so I went with what I know. Games. Events. Matches."

He chuckled.

She also made a list of particular companies, and when their initial public offerings were throughout the years as well as some that were just good, solid investments even if they were already in circulation. There were a few that she knew would be overall successful. A few that she knew with things like World War II coming up would perform well eventually, even if they weren't growing like gangbusters currently.

"I'm sorry, I just truly don't think it's wrong to ensure we have a secure future. And maybe a secure future for Tom as well as, well, our future selves. And Albus did not tell me that I cannot use what knowledge I have. I know Disney and McDonald's are successful companies. I know that there are companies that do well because of the war. I know, for example, that my father said he wished his father had invested in Willy-Overland in 1940 after France's collapse. I can't help that I remember these things!"

"Of course not. I'm not upset with you, Marie. Quite the opposite. I just didn't come back here to be excessively wealthy via less than reputable means. In fact," he said and stood. He walked to the bag he had with the undetectable extension charm and brought it to the table with them.

"I brought some things along myself," he said.

In addition to the most current version of Hogwarts: A History there was a book for each of the schools. He also pulled out some newspapers (muggle and magical).

"Albus gifted us with a copy of the registration and birth list from 1926 to the year we just left. He thought it might come in useful."

"Oh," she said, glancing from the various books to him. "That's wonderful and clever. And thank you," she said, relieved he wasn't truly upset, or thought she'd done something wrong. "I don't want to cheat either, I assure you, but as long as we do it sparingly and responsibly I don't see the harm. I mean, the Kentucky Derby. We could go and claim we're on our honeymoon, which wouldn't be untrue, and got one hundred dollars as a gift. I liked the name Bubbling Over, so you being the smitten, newly wed husband do what your bride asks of you."

"Is that so?"

"Well, to them!"

"That is two months from now. Let's see how the time before then goes. Obviously, I have to get an interview and the position I seek before we decide anything. I would not be adverse to a bit of leisure time after the past fifteen years. Hell, twenty-five if I'm being honest."

She shook her head. No doubt he spoke the truth. And understated it immensely. He made light of it, but she didn't imagine the past fifteen years had been a picnic. While she was getting horseback riding lessons because she was bored, he was having to keep up the persona of spy and hating muggles.

"I can imagine."

"In addition, as I mentioned to Albus when we were in his office in this time. I plan on working with you so that you can sit your OWLs and NEWTs. I have brought everything we should need to that end. We don't have to start tomorrow, but we will have to start rather soon, as September will be upon us quicker than we likely realize."

"I understand. I, really, thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, Marie. I meant what I said. I want you to do what you want to. If being a full-time mum to Tom is it, that's fine. There's nothing wrong with that, in my opinion. I'm sure some would say it's a waste of your intellect, but if Tom is at all like Albus thinks he will be even at a young age I'm inclined to think it wouldn't' be. If being Hogwarts' librarian is it, that's fine, too. You are giving up two years of education. That is a huge sacrifice to people like us. We'll take a few days, settle in, and then we can figure out how we want to work it."

"You're not going to be a tyrannical git, are you?"

He scoffed. "I will try to refrain from being that."

"Then I think we will be fine. I look forward to learning from you, Severus. Really. I'm sure I would have figured out how to work sitting them in on my own, but your help is more than appreciated."

"All of these items will have to be kept hidden, obviously, but I will charm my bag to accept you so that you may access it for now. I tried to keep an inventory of everything I put into it so that we know what we have. I may have, the past week or so, gotten a little careless updating it. The cellar being empty will come in handy, I believe. I have a tent that I'd like to put down there once I've had time to ensure it's safe for us to be in it. I'm sure it is, but I'd like to be certain first. We could keep things in the tent that we would like to have easier access to than this bag. Once Tom gets older, we'll have to evaluate whether the cellar is an appropriate place to keep such things. It, and the door to the cellar, would be heavily warded, of course, but still easier to sort through than this bag."

"Oh," she said, not having realized her being able to access his bag would be a possibility. She supposed it made sense, though, like the magical tents she'd seen (and he presumably brought with them). Same premise, just the tents were on a larger scale. And, yes, she could see what he meant. The bag wasn't a room they could walk into and have books on a shelf. She nodded. "Yes, right. Thank you."

She loved that he was going to give her access to these things. That he'd thought to bring items with him so that she could prepare to sit her OWLs and NEWTs. That he knew she'd want access to them. She couldn't see a reason for them to be accessed often, but it would be good to read things as their journey progressed to see what had changed. She imagined there were some resources he brought along that wouldn't be available yet he'd still want to be able to consult.

He stood then, sliding his coat off and draping it over his chair. This room was spacious, and she really liked this cozy area to sit in. In addition to the table they were currently sitting at there were two comfortable looking chairs in front of the fireplace. It was March so chilly, but not quite as cold as the middle of January. She could imagine it would be nice to enjoy a morning cup of tea and a good book here on a winter day before starting her day. A nice blanket draped over her to keep herself warm and cozy.

He'd be gone come September likely, which meant she'd be on her own in this house in November and December until Tom Riddle was born. Practically into January.

He gasped followed by an almost painful sounding hiss, drawing her attention back to him. He'd rolled up his shirtsleeves. Should she be insulted or glad that he thought it was okay to be so … casual in front of her? She wasn't sure. She'd never seen him before this out of his robes, let alone with his shirtsleeves rolled up. (She wasn't insulted, not even close. She'd seen friends of her dad and some of their neighbours in tank tops and shorts when doing yard work and such over the years.)

"What?" she asked.

He turned to her then, clutching his left forearm. She did not know him well enough to understand the look on his face. Him clutching that arm in that spot could not be good, though. Could it?

Dear God.

Was he being summoned?

She stood from the chair quickly, her hand flying to her mouth.

"No!"

She didn't even think before the word came out. It was not possible that he was here in 1926 and being summoned! She assumed that Albus had researched whether that would be possible before even asking him to do this. Likely Severus did, too, once the idea had been presented to him. She hadn't thought to ask, because she didn't have such a mark, and it just never occurred to her.

And then he lifted his hand away, revealing … nothing.

It was just an arm with flesh and hair like hers or anyone else's, nothing more.

No Dark Mark.

It was her turn to gasp as she went to him, running the tips of her fingers over the skin there.

No snake. No skull. Nothing. The skin was smooth, other than the hair, and completely unblemished aside from a few scars. It wasn't faded as she knew had happened during the time Voldemort was not in power.

It was completely gone.

She was guessing what the look on his face meant now: incredulity. Astonishment.

"How?" she asked.

"I can only assume because it has not yet been created, and as its creator hasn't been conceived nor born yet …"

Did Albus know this would happen? Was this why he'd sent them back prior to Tom's conception even? There was nothing saying they couldn't have been sent back shortly before Tom was born, except she supposed Severus might have been more hard pressed to get a position at Hogwarts in December.

What Albus knew, or why this happened, didn't really matter. That Albus wasn't here for them to ask. She was so happy for him. She threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "Oh! That's wonderful, Severus. A completely fresh start for you. No one will ask you what it is or what made you think of it…"

She stopped talking then, realizing what she'd just done and that she was still touching him. She drew away, backing up. He didn't look angry, but was clearly surprised. She knew he was a very private man, and barely hours into this she'd completely invaded his space.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"It's all right. You caused me no bodily harm."

He looked as if he was going to say something else, but closed his mouth and said nothing more.

"Would it come back if you went back, do you think?"

"I do not know, nor am I going through that again in an attempt to find out."

She laughed softly. "I don't blame you."

He took another moment to stare at his arm while she returned to her seat. He hadn't left the room, but she sensed this was a moment he wanted to be alone. He held it out in front of him, clenched and unclenched his fist. Moved it around in circles and cast a spell with his wand. Though he was right handed he was obviously capable of casting with his left as well. She wondered if he taught himself for fear his right hand would be incapacated intentionally by someone. As a general rule, they were not taught to cast ambidextrously.

It was rather fascinating. She truly would be hard-pressed, even just watching him casually go through his casting motions, telling which was his preferred hand. She knew only because she'd observed him writing and eating with his right hand.

"Yes, I will teach you to cast with both hands," he murmured and she knew she was blushing again.

Damn him! Was he really that clever? Or was she just that obvious?

Finally, after a few minutes he returned to the chair he'd been sitting in moments ago. The one he'd draped his coat over. She couldn't help but stare at his arms. Both of them. She realized again she had never seen him out of his robes before all of this.

It was … odd.

He set his wand on the table between them, and she eyed it curiously. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen his wand just set down somewhere.

"So, I think tomorrow we should go room by room. Take an inventory, decide if each room is set up as we want and for what we want," he said succinctly, as if he hadn't just discovered something rather monumental.

So, he didn't want to talk about the fact that he no longer bore the mark of the man who they were here to attempt to save. She supposed it wasn't her place to be pushy. He was probably feeling a great many things about that discovery that he wouldn't want to share with someone he barely knew when it got down to it, wife or not.

"That makes sense."

It did. They needed to know what was here, and get a feel for what they wanted. Together.

"Will the cellar bother you?"

She scrunched her nose a bit at that. Where was that question coming from?

"Why?"

"I noticed you did not seem overly fond of going down there when we looked at it earlier. In addition to the tent, I was thinking I could have a potions lab built down there for the time being. Eventually, I'd like to have my own lab on the premises. One of the existing buildings would suffice, but honestly I'd prefer it be something no one would happen upon unless they were looking for it. I could use the study I suppose, the library could serve as a study. I'm not sure we need both just the three of us, but if we get to the point of having company, which we will have to whether we like it or not, they might wonder. My thought is, as Tom gets older, the cellar could be locked and more effectively and strongly warded than what I could do to one room on a floor we're not trying to prevent access to any of the other rooms."

"No, the cellar is fine. Are you planning on needing a lab here?"

"No, the lab would be for you, which is why I'm asking. If you wish to learn beyond what you've studied, I will not be able to bring you to Hogwarts for months. Tom won't be born until December. Presuming I get hired for the upcoming school year, that would leave you alone for over three months. I know you'll be studying, but you need to do something but just reading. I'd be able to come home for Christmas holidays obviously. We don't know if I'll be allowed to come home on weekends."

"I suppose," she said. "And no one will find it odd that your new wife isn't living with you?"

"Well, I'd thought about that, despite what Albus said as far as you doing anything muggle. I happen to think the opposite. I think that if Tom is not to be raised to think muggle equates to badness, he needs to see it is not. I think we need to show him they are not. I am not saying that we should admit you're muggleborn." She stiffened a bit at that. He must have seen her do it. "I don't care, and I want to be clear about that here and now before we delve further into our story. I know what others say about me, but I want to assure you that I do not care what your blood status is. I will not deny fifteen to twenty years ago I said, and did, some things that I am not proud of." He sighed here, and she watched his forearms as he clenched and unclenched his fists. "I was weak. I wanted to belong. I hadn't as a child, and assumed I would at Hogwarts. I was incredibly wrong. I found this group of people." He shrugged here. She was honestly surprised he said this much! "I really didn't - don't - hate muggles or muggleborns."

His eyes met hers and she saw pain there.

"I can't say that I understand, Severus. Obviously, I can't, and I'm not going to lie to you, but I don't think you hate muggles or muggleborns. Your opinion of me, my thought as to it anyway, had little to do with who my parents were."

"You and I both know that others currently do - in 1926 - and there always will be those that do. Your being muggleborn may close doors to him that wouldn't otherwise be. So. As far as you, a reasonable muggle position wouldn't be altogether bad. You certainly could teach younger students more than sufficiently. Librarian in town would be an option. Do you have secretarial skills? I would invest in a manual typewriter, so that you could become proficient on one as it is quite different from an electric typewriter or computer keyboard. Shorthand would be something else you'd want to learn if such a position was of interest to you. You have time to think of those options while you prepare for your testing. Otherwise, by September you would be known to be pregnant and far enough along that I could say that you prefer to stay home and set up the nursery and finish the home before a baby comes. I also want to assure you that you do not have to work. It is not an expectation I have, but I realize you might get bored without that in play. You are a product of your generation, women worked commonly. You also have a mind that was made to be used, and not on how best to darn socks. So, I understand. Bear in mind, you do not want elves, which I'm fine with to a point. Elves would know you're not pregnant, and they do gossip just like any living being."

She nodded. These were all valid points. She was glad that he'd thought of the muggle job being not just possible but reasonable, the same as she had. They had time to worry about her employment if she chose to work. She couldn't get a job until after they got Tom anyway.

"The only person besides us who knows you are not actually going to give birth is Albus, and he doesn't know who the child is. I do think when we get Tom we should rethink the house elf issue. Getting elves does not mean we have to treat them poorly. However, in the meantime, this is a large home. I have no problem assisting in the upkeep between now and August. As there are only the two of us, I don't see it being problematic to keep up on things. However,  once I am employed. Well, that will fall primarily on your shoulders. You may find you're not as bored as you think."

She was glad it seemed they were both on the same wavelength as far as whether they were going to be Tom's parents or adoptive parents. She thought somehow being adopted would make him even more curious about his past, which would be bad. Potentially, very bad. They also both seemed to recognize that they could not keep him segregated from the muggle world if they wanted him to grow up any differently. And it wasn't just Thomas Riddle they were here to try to change the minds of either when it got down to it. They were trying to bring tolerance and acceptance years before tyranny under Voldemort could happen.

They may succeed in what they were here to do with Tom. That didn't mean another wouldn't be there in the future to teach intolerance to those willing to listen and accept that way of thinking.

"Are you hungry? Or would you rather sleep? I imagine our routines and sleeping schedule may be off for a bit."

"I would think so," she said. She hadn't really eaten anything but the chocolate when they arrived for a long time. She was, now that he mentioned it, hungry. "I could eat."

"You should have said something, I didn't even think you hadn't eaten for possibly days. At least not a meal. Let's go see what was brought for us then. Bring your notebook, we can make a list of items we'd like to buy tomorrow that weren't thought of for us."

"Sure," she said.

"You will have to hide it."

"I know."

"And probably not tell me where it is."

"Afraid you're going to use what I took notes on?"

"Hardly. Albus is an exceptional legilimens. I'd say he was up there with Tom, but not quite to Tom's level. I, of course, don't know this Albus personally, so he might be devious enough to just slam into your mind. I would hope not. I will work with you on occlumency, by the way. He will be around me more than you, though, at least initially. So, it's my brain he's going to pick at for information and knowledge. He already knows he survives. Despite what he says, he won't be able to resist. It may not be this month or even this year, but eventually he will. So the notebook, and the device, I will entrust you to hide sufficiently, and put it deep in the recesses of your mind where no one can find them."

"No pressure or anything," she said wryly.

"Yes, well, you are reputed to be the cleverest witch of your age, and I would not have agreed to this plan with you as my partner in it if I didn't think that you could do it. We will take advantage of Albus being busy with other things, and get you to where I feel confident that you can survive his probing. We will start, of course, with you having hidden it somewhere not meant for permanent safekeeping."

"Understood."

She walked with him to the hall then and glanced at him as they headed toward the kitchens.

"What?" he asked.

She smiled a bit that he could tell she was thinking something.

"What will the sleeping arrangements be?"

"What are you implying, Granger?"

"Clary. Actually Prins now, if you don't mind," she teased. "I'm not implying anything. It was a legitimate question."

"Well, I'd assumed the room we just left would be yours."

"And yours?"

"So long as you don't mind sharing a bathroom and that closet with me, the one adjoining it."

"Oh good. Yes," she said.

That was kind of a relief. She assumed he was going to take a room on a completely different floor or convert one of the sitting rooms in the other wing where the ballroom was into his bedroom. Some might find that good, at least until they grew comfortable with this situation. She didn't want floors separating them, though.

"Good?"

"Well, I'd like to see you once in a while, and not live on other ends of the house."

"I'm sure I can't fathom why that's true, but I will endeavour to ensure you're not lonely."

"I don't expect conversations."

"Contrary to you continuing to talk as we walk to the kitchens to see about dinner."

"Just explaining. I'm fine with reading or what have you, but knowing I'm not alone, at least for right now, would be welcome."

"Very well," he said with a sigh.

"And, well, we should make an effort to not only get comfortable with one another, but get to know one another if we're expected to pull off being in love and getting pregnant right away."

"Of course," he said with a slight nod as if he agreed but wasn't willing to say so directly.

"Thank you."

"Can you chop vegetables without talking my ear off, do you think?"

"I will try. You can always tell me to shut up."

"That would be rude and I would not do that, however I will bear in mind that you are not against being told that I want quiet. It is appreciated. Despite living at Hogwarts, I am used to my solitude so there may be a period of … adjustment."

"For both of us. I've certainly never been a wife or a home's mistress before."

His lips thinned a bit at that, but she could tell she'd scored a point with that comment. They both had things to adjust to. This wasn't just Severus Snape anymore. It was the two of them. Together.

"So vegetables then?"

"Yes," she said.

***

April 1996

Harry read Hermione's letter at least a dozen times. Ron had, too. The headmaster. Well, they couldn't get to him, and McGonagall was telling them next to nothing. She claimed she knew nothing more, but Harry wasn't buying that.

Why was she being threatened to the point of leaving school and being sent into hiding? Why her? She was just a student like he was. It just didn't seem … right to him.

He'd written her a handful of letters since getting hers the Monday after Easter. McGonagall hand delivered it to him at the Burrow. He'd sent none of them, because he wasn't going to endanger his best friend, or her parents, even further.

Obviously, the headmaster had access to all sorts of information Harry didn't, and the letter was definitely Hermione's handwriting. Mr. Weasley had cast some sort of spell on it that revealed that it was. Harry hadn't even had to ask Ron's dad to do that.

"She'll be back, Harry," Ginny said, taking a seat beside him. "Come on, she ended the letter talking about taking the OWLs. She expects to be back."

He glanced at that PS again. She was right.

"Thank you," he said.

"I get it. She's your best friend."

"And well, she's the smartest witch I know. I guess I don't know how to do all of this without her." This was followed by a touch to his forehead, making it very clear what the this was he was talking about.

Ginny set her hand over his, squeezing lightly. It wasn't a romantic gesture, thankfully. He didn't want to deal with that at all right now.

"You will, Harry. You will, because you'll want to prove to her that you can do it without her."

"What's that mean?"

"I don't mean that you don't want her here, of course you do. Harry, you're still a wizard. The headmaster wouldn't send her away if he didn't have confidence in you ."

She had a point. He still wished he knew where this threat, or whatever it was, had come from that made them take Hermione away from him. And Mr. Weasley heard rumours about Snape. He hadn't been able to find out anymore than the fact their potions professor's name came up over the weekend.

"Thanks, Ginny," he whispered.

"You're welcome. Now the boys and I were going to go out for a round of quidditch. Want to come?"

He did. He absolutely did. He felt weird, though, as if he should be doing something to find her. To help her. She'd help him if the situation was reversed.

"If the headmaster hid them, they're hidden well."

He sighed with a huff.

"Yeah," he agreed. He wasn't going to find them with his limited resources. The headmaster probably had safe houses on top of safe houses all around the world.

She tugged on his sleeve a bit. "Come on, Harry. Some fresh air will do you good."

He folded up the letter. Again. It had even been written in regular ink with a regular envelope. All pointing to the fact she'd written it at her parents' house.

"Yeah," he said, before sliding it into his pocket.

***

"Anton," the Dark Lord bellowed. Lucius kept his head bowed, his attention on the hem of the Dark Lord's robe. Their Lord was obviously not happy, that much was evident. Lucius didn't dare look elsewhere.

"My Lord," Anton said, bowing at Voldemort's feet.

"Why am I hearing reports that Severus is dead?"

"I do not know, My Lord," he said. It was clear by Anton's tone that not only did he not know but he hadn't known until Voldemort just said something. That would not end well for the wizard.

Lucius barely managed to hide the smirk at Anton lifting his head without permission ever so slightly before responding. The news the Dark Lord had delivered was what stopped the smirk from coming. Overjoyed he might be at Anton being the subject of the Dark Lord's ire. What he'd said had been … upsetting.

Was it true? Was Severus dead? And no one had told him? They were friends. He was godfather to his only son.

"Why am I reading about it in the Daily Prophet instead of hearing it from those he trusted?  Those who should have had his back? Those who shouldn't have allowed him to die?"

"I don't know, Sir," Anton said.

Lucius could hear the hint of panic sneak into the fellow death eater's voice. His accent always got more pronounced in those instances. He didn't err often. He was one of the Dark Lord's seasoned followers.

"You don't know?" The Dark Lord's voice rose here to an almost shriek-like sound.

"I do not."

"Who organized the raid on that mudblood's house then?"

"I don't know," Anton said. "No one does that I've spoken to."

"And yet the mudblood's home was raided, Anton. She and her parents are evidently missing. Missing, Anton. Not captured. Not dead. And Severus is dead."

"I am sorry, My Lord."

"Sorry! You were the one planning their demise. Someone did it instead, and all you can say is that you are sorry? No worries, there's no need for any more explanations for now. You failed me, Anton. My trusted Severus is gone!"

Lucius wanted to say something. He didn't know what to say, but his friend of twenty-five years, his son's godfather, being taken from him in this manner bothered him. It was so unnecessary. Severus was pretty clever. If he could be gotten to. Well, that was a disturbing thought.

How had the girl gotten away, though? Draco had reported she was going to the Weasleys' for Easter holidays. Had she changed her mind? Had his son gotten his information wrong? Who  could have found that out and organized a raid on her home?

And with Severus gone, who was going to keep a watchful eye on Draco while he was at school? Lucius counted on Severus doing that, and telling Lucius things the Dark Lord might find interesting from time to time. He was a good friend that way, passing morsels that would keep Lucius in the Dark Lord's good graces.

Lucius kept his head bowed while Anton was tortured by the Dark Lord.

He stifled the smile at the sound of Anton's moans. Anton, while more than capable, was a bit full of himself, so to see him taken down a notch was … welcome. No doubt the wizard would be begging for the Cruciatus about now because their lord was not merciful this night. Lucius was confident that he could have plotted a better raid on the mudblood's house.

"Who allowed his body to be taken?" the Dark Lord asked.

Mercy, Lucius thought with a gulp. His body hadn't been recovered? Or had it? By Order members?

"I will find out, My Lord," Anton finally said when he was able to speak again.

"I thought that you might, Anton."

The other wizard stood then, slowly. Lucius knew full well what it was like to stand after rounds of the Dark Lord's punishments. One couldn't show weakness, though, or he'd punish them again.

Better him than me.

Oh, Severus.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com