"And you think this will work?"

Hermione asked this regarding the robes he had transfigured and charmed for her. He'd worked for weeks on them. Weeks because, until now, it wasn't something he'd ever dreamt of needing to come up with a spell or charm for. She wasn't really doubting him, and he knew that. Thus, no snarky response, merely a glare that seven months ago likely would have made her think Ron and Harry were right in calling him a git. It wasn't nearly as effective today. He wasn't sure if the look had changed or she had. Both?

They were transfigured to be slightly bigger in the abdominal area even though she had nothing there to take up the additional space. He charmed them to move with her. They were hoping no one would pay that close attention. In this time period, it was very possible they would not. Severus didn't know many pregnant women well enough to talk about such things with, but the propensity for other women to think being pregnant gave them the right to freely touch another woman seemed to be a rather recent thing.

"We have no choice, it had better work. The headmaster and staff would like to meet my wife before the term starts. You are to be about five months along. In my experience, limited though it may be, women run the gamut at this stage from hardly noticeable to very obviously pregnant. It would be suspicious if I told them you were unable to make dinner. I also need to key my wards to you, so that when you are free later to come and go from Hogwarts as you please you are able to enter my quarters and office. I need you there to do that."

"Oh my, I get access to your office and your quarters? Your lab and stores, too?"

"I trust that you are not going to steal from me nor turn yourself into a cat again anytime soon, so yes."

She smiled wryly, sticking her tongue out at him for good measure.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Mm, and you promised, nay vowed, not to be insolent any longer."

She laughed softly, so he recognized that she was clearly not upset.

"Yes, well. You promised not to be an arse!"

"Did you or did you not steal from my stores and turn yourself into a cat?"

"It was a partial cat, and it worked just fine for Harry and Ron!"

"Irrelevant. I did not mention Potter or Weasley. I mentioned you."

"Fine, yes! It was an accident."

"You're quite becoming when you have your ire up," he said, tilting his head as he regarded her.

She truly was. He kind of liked it, but he knew her being angry at him was not what he needed in his life. At least not this early into things. Certainly not tonight, meeting the Hogwarts staff for the first time.

"Yes, well, something tells me you don't want me to meet the headmaster and the rest of the staff with my ire raised so be nice to your wife!"

He slid his hands to her waist, drawing her toward him a bit. They'd gotten more comfortable at kissing with some hugging thrown in, but that was all. Certainly nothing he felt was crossing any line. He really didn't want to go back seventy years into the past, only to end up doing something here that would send him to hell.

He actually realized when the thought occurred to him that this would be his last week here at the house that they'd been here for over five months. That meant, technically, she was seventeen now.

They'd both decided to keep the month and dates they were born the same. Neither wanted to deal with remembering, or inadvertently giving the wrong date to someone else. Her being seventeen meant she was legally a witch.

As tempting as it was, he knew that making love to her and then being gone for days on end for potentially over three months was not the best way to embark on that aspect of their relationship. Her enthusiasm at kissing him, and seeming desire to want to do it, made him curious how responsive she'd be to the rest. He'd never been with someone who truly wanted to be with him. Who truly liked him. It was a heady thought to wonder what it would be like. He lifted one of his hands to her face, cupping her cheek.

"Oh, I don't know, your skin is flushed, your hair looks all Medusa-like."

She snorted. "You like snakes, do you?"

"Well, I was Slytherin…"

"Keep telling yourself that," she said, reaching up to kiss him. He was getting better adjusted to her doing these things, but it was still new to him. Odd. Not in a bad way, just so strange that she would be so caring. "So, do I pass?" She asked this after drawing away from him and turning around one final time so he could look at her.

"You'll do."

"You sure we shouldn't glamour? Or put some padding…"

"No, you are slight enough, this should be sufficient. Just don't put your hands on your abdomen. I have seen pregnant women do that a lot, but that tends to be further along in their pregnancy from my experience."

"Okay," she said. She nodded, clearly filing it away with his other tips and warnings.

"And we will come up with excuses if they ask to see you during the school year. Not feeling well. Visiting a friend. Healer suggested no floo travel or apparition, which may allow me weekend home visits."

Going forward, the floo to his quarters would be accessible to her once she was keyed into his wards. He'd put in the request, so that he could be informed promptly when she went into labour, or if she needed him. For now, they would make their entrance into the Slytherin common room since he had taken on the role of head of house. Why it had been offered to him before he'd even started, he wasn't sure. He could only presume Albus had something to do with it.

"Wow," she said, taking in the room. "It's very black and green, which I guess I expected. It's just rather dark and rather gloomy …"

He chuckled. She wasn't wrong. "Indeed."

She glanced at him, sliding her arm around his. "Is it much different?" she whispered.

"Well, yes and no. The furnishings had changed obviously, but the scheme and general feel was always pretty similar. I say always, because I had twenty-five years experience with it. Obviously, until now, I can't speak to anything prior to 1971."

"Huh," she said.

"First let's take care of the wards."

"Worried I won't ever come visit?"

She was joking, and yet there was probably a bit of … sincerity to her question.

"Well, I have gotten rather used to our evening card games."

More than just used to them admittedly. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but he quite looked forward to the end of the day when they unwound from their respective busy days around the house.

Together.

Occasionally, they just read, but those evenings weren't as common now over five months into this as they were toward the beginning.

"Me, too," she said, resting her head against his forearm before releasing it.

He led her first to his office off the common room, not that she'd ever have a reason to come here but just in case. Being his wife, she would be welcome in the Slytherin common room. He'd just have to apprise her of any password changes during the school year.

Then they went to his classroom, that office, his storeroom, and finally his quarters.

"And these?"

"Virtually identical aside from obvious time period constraints," he said simply.

It was interesting she asked that, because he'd been surprised how … similar they'd been to what he'd left behind in 1996. He shouldn't have been, he supposed. Hogwarts had never stopped amazing him. He decided that there must be something about him that told the castle these things were what he should have.

He couldn't stomach telling her that it was far more … homey than originally. He'd noticed in his sleeping chamber, for example, the bedding he'd been supplied with was the same as colour went but far nicer than anything he'd ever purchased. The same with the towels and such. Never mind that what was set out was clearly for two not just himself.

She accepted his answer with a nod. He showed her around. The password to gain access to his rooms via the floo was Yeltsin, which she seemed to find amusing.

He wanted to choose something that she would remember but no one else would guess. As he had no plans on granting anyone else the password to access his rooms from outside of Hogwarts, he didn't need to worry about someone wondering how he thought of Yeltsin some sixty-five years before the man took office in Russia. That he knew while choosing it she'd find it amusing was a bonus.

They were early for dinner, so took their time making their way up from the dungeons to the Great Hall.

"I would like to see the library before we go," she whispered.

"I would have been shocked, and probably disappointed, if you had not requested to."

She looked at the ceiling immediately upon entering the Great Hall he noticed. He had, too, his first time. It was good to know he was not alone in wondering what it would look like. Currently, it looked like a typical Scottish summer night.

"I will tell you if it looks any different when the students arrive," he whispered.

She smiled up at him. She seemed to like when he was able to know what she was thinking without her having to tell him. "Thank you," she said.

It was just the staff, no students yet, so they were seated at a large round table instead of a long rectangular one.

"Hello Professor," she said to Albus with a polite bow of her head.

"Madam Prins, how lovely to see you again. You are positively glowing," he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Severus couldn't help but think that as effective as the twinkle was here in 1926, the wizard had perfected it by 1996. The twinkle was there now only because Severus had assured him, privately, that it was required that his wife be believed to be with child. He'd assured the professor that she was, in fact, not pregnant, nor had he broken his unspoken word to the other man that nothing would happen between them before she was of age.

He normally would give a flying fig what someone thought about him, but the future Albus held Severus in high enough regard that he actually cared what this version of that man thought of him. He didn't want a reputation, even if it was only among one person, of having behaved reprehensibly. Especially given his position with students. He assumed Albus believed him, thus leading to him being offered the head of house position. A reward? Who knew how Albus thought.

"Thank you," she said, blushing quite appropriately.

"You are feeling well?"

"Yes, for the most part, thank you for asking," she said.

This was met with a few chuckles. A couple of witches looked at her with an understanding and sympathetic look in their eyes. Severus briefly felt guilty that they were duping these people, but what choice did they have? They both agreed that the adoption route would not be wise.

Introductions were made by the headmaster. Some were meeting Severus for the first time as well. Not at all surprising, people didn't frequent the dungeons in this time any more than they had in 1996.

It wasn't overly uncomfortable, but strange to put faces with names he'd read about in books. He imagined Hermione felt the same way with her fondness for Hogwarts: A History . Once the introductions were finished, Severus held her chair for her as she took a seat. Severus and Hermione were both rather quiet, answering questions asked of them, but both seemed content to observe the rest of the staff while they conversed. On this, they were similar. He'd imparted on her that his silence had earned him some of the best information over the years.

After dessert, Severus made their excuses. "Marie would like to see our library. Is it acceptable that I show it to her?"

"Of course," Headmaster Dippet said.

His eyes did not twinkle as Albus' did. He was no less likable, just a bit more stern-seeming. Serious. Albus could be serious, too, but his demeanor seemed far more good-natured than Dippet's. Of course, Severus hadn't found him very good-natured or of good disposition when he was a student. It took … time, once he'd turned spy, for both men to develop the friendship that had happened. Honestly, fifteen years later, Severus still wasn't sure if Albus truly considered him a friend or merely one of the many tools in his warchest.

"It was nice to meet all of you," Hermione said as she stood, taking Severus' offered arm. "Thank you for dinner," she said to the headmaster.

"It was a pleasure meeting Erik's wife. He has mentioned the work you've done at your home."

"Oh, yes, it is quite the project, but it will be worth it when I'm done. Then I'm not sure there ever truly will be a done."

"Of course," he said. Others nodded in agreement to what she'd said.

They took their leave then, and walked through halls that were so familiar to them both yet different at the same time. Portraits were in different places than they were accustomed, or missing altogether. The same with things like suits of armour and statues. He hadn't strayed much beyond the dungeons, infirmary, library, and Great Hall to this point. Somehow he sensed it would bother her if he was well acquainted with the differences before she even had the chance to see them for the first time.

He tried to ignore what it might mean that he cared that it would bother her. That he'd purposely done (or not done) something because he didn't want to bother her.

"It smells different," she whispered when they entered the library and he chuckled. "You find that funny?"

"No, actually, I don't, only because I thought the same thing when I first came in here. The librarian, by the way, is a complete dunderhead. So if you so desired it, I'm certain that you would be a more than an acceptable replacement."

"Well, thank you, I think."

"It wasn't meant to be demeaning, Marie Rose. Plus, you are more than familiar with the way Irma successfully ran it for years. So you would already have in your head how a successful system works. I'm sure you'd have ideas of your own, too."

"Oh," she said with a nod.

"Dinner seemed to go well," he said.

"It did," she said. "You think I passed?"

"I do. You are familiar enough with how they act and behave from your own experiences and the run-throughs we've done at our own meals and such. You've done your research, read enough books on propriety, I am not overly concerned."

"Thank you," she said.

She looked relieved. They had practiced more than two weeks' worth of formal dinners at their house. Dinner with the staff of Hogwarts wasn't as formal as some occasions they'd likely have, but she would be the odd one out, so the attention would be on her. They both knew that, and prepared for it.

They took their time returning to the dungeons and his rooms.

"And I can come any evening?"

"You may," he said. "I do not plan on doing any entertaining, if that's what has you concerned."

"No, that wasn't what I was implying. I just don't want to overstep…"

"There is no overstepping. You are in fact my wife, Marie Rose. Assistance while brewing would be tolerable."

She gave a soft laugh, shaking her head. He had noticed over the months she seemed to prefer when he called her Marie Rose versus just Marie. In truth, he preferred it, too. Hermione was not a common name. Marie was rather common. Marie Rose made it … hers. "I see how it is. You're going to put me to work."

"I wouldn't let just anyone assist me."

She rolled her eyes. He hoped she knew he spoke the truth. She had proven the past few months capable of brewing, as well as not talking his ear off while they were working together.

"Let's get you home then."

"Okay," she said softly, taking one last look at his rooms before stepping to the fireplace.

She would be able to get to him from the three fireplaces connected to the floo network in their home anywhere she wanted to find him. He from Hogwarts, on the other hand, could only access their home via the fireplace that came out in the game room. He preferred, as did she, that no one inadvertently arrive in her bedroom.

"You'll stay for a while?" she asked once they were back home.

"I can."

"Great."

"I don't know if you noticed, but my rooms have cards and such in them as well."

Her eyes lit up. She evidently hadn't noticed, which was interesting because he had purposely set them out in the hope that she would. "Oh, you are prepared for a visit then."

"I am," he said.

He certainly had not believed it possible five months ago when she first agreed to this scheme of Albus', but tonight he thought that he would truly miss her company.

"So, what will it be tonight then?" she asked.

"Oh, I get to choose?"

"Yes, well, it only seems right since it's your last night here."

"You make it sound so permanent. You'll be able to join me in no time."

They both knew it would likely be a long four months. There was nothing stopping her from coming to see him, but the more she did the more chances there would be for her to be seen. That would not do.

"I know."

She would be busy. She'd planted onions, lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, and a couple of other things just to see if she could do it. She didn't mind getting her hands dirty or anything. There were days over the summer that she woke before him and came in just in time for dinner filthy from head to toe. The head to toe days weren't the norm toward the end of summer. She'd evidently … learned as she went to prevent that from happening.

They also discovered on one of their many walks of their property that they had blueberries, gooseberries, and blackberries as well as peaches, apples, pears, and cherries. There were also more than a few chestnut, hazelnut, and walnut trees. They all had to be tended to as they were overrun with weeds and such, but she mentioned looking forward to some fresh fruit and nuts this fall.

They'd made lists of all of these things they already had, and she'd researched how to care for and get them to thrive. He was fairly certain she was on a first name basis with many in town who she went to with questions. Sometimes they weren't sure what something was, so he or she would draw it and she'd bring the drawing into town to get information on what it was and what they should do with it. No one seemed to find this odd, chalking it up to the young couple learning the ins and outs of their property.

She was going to try her hand at making a pie after he left. It wasn't something she'd done before, but she'd seen her mum do it. She hadn't said anything to Severus because if it turned out horrible, she wasn't even going to tell him she'd attempted it. If it turned out well, she'd surprise him with a piece tomorrow or the next day. She didn't think she needed an excuse to visit him, but just in case he didn't really mean she could come by anytime.

It was after midnight by the time he took his leave back to Hogwarts. He had permission to come home on weekends that he didn't have rounds. Having gardens and fruit trees to tend to seemed to be a legitimate enough excuse for her to stay home for now.

"I am but a patronus or owl away," he whispered. His cheek was resting against the top of her head. It was … nice. They'd gotten good at these close moments since she'd given him the homemade Scrabble board.

"I know," she said, resting her head against his chest. Hearing the steady, very real, beat of his heart was grounding. She had to let him go. He had to. This was what they came here to do. And she truly thought he deserved the chance to try his hand at teaching without spying and anything else thrown in the mix.

She'd spent most all day, every day with this man for nearly six months. She would be alone in this large house for months. Albus had asked Mintzy to stock the kitchen thoroughly while they spent their evening at Hogwarts. She was not to stray from the kitchen and pantry areas. As far as they knew, she had not. In Hermione's experience the elves that were treated fair and decent, as Albus seemed to treat Mintzy, were not ones who rebelled against their owners' directives.

He leaned down then, kissing her and she gasped, fighting back tears. He slid his hands to her cheeks as he drew away. His fingertips slid along the tips of her ears and through a bit of her hair. It felt … nice.

"Hermione," he whispered.

"I know, it's probably stupid to you, you've lived alone most of your life, but I never have! Never! I've never spent a night alone before."

"If you cannot sleep, come on through."

"Okay," she said through a sniffle, feeling pathetic.

"But ensure you bring the robe with you."

"I will," she said.

No sense transfiguring a bunch when they would hopefully only need it a few times.

"Good night," he said. His voice sounded … gruffer than normal. Maybe he wasn't totally unaffected by this either.

"Good night," she said, wiping her cheeks with her hands. She knew she looked a fright, though. Her eyes were likely red and puffy. Her hair was probably frizzy since it was so late and he'd had his hands in it.

He'd gotten most of the tears with his own hands. She fled the room then, not wanting to see him floo out of the house.

She went through the house, ensuring everything was locked and secured. She knew it was since they'd used the floo to and from Hogwarts, but it gave her something to do to distract herself. She checked the kitchen, which had in fact been stocked, as had the pantry and ice box. The door to the servants quarters was locked as well. She was as safe and secure as she could be.

She took a hot bath, adding one of the oils Severus made for her, knowing she liked bubble baths. She had a whole assortment of them, and she loved playing with the different scents he created for her. One of the perks of having her own personal potions master it seemed. She never specified which she preferred, but he must take note of which fragrances were used faster because those were always replenished. She got ready for bed and realized she was tired, so didn't see the point in even attempting to read. The fact it was closing in on nearly half past one in the morning played a role in her tiredness.

He wasn't surprised when he was woken to the sound of his fireplace coming to life deep in the night. He'd expected her sooner, truth be told. He lifted his wand and determined that it was just after four o'clock in the morning.

"Erik," she whispered.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, voice sounding gruff from hours of lack of use. He hoped she didn't think he was upset with her for coming here. He truly wanted her to feel safe. If here was where she felt safe, he wouldn't make fun of her for it.

She was silent, gesturing perhaps but in the dark he couldn't see her.

"Do you have a blanket or something?"

"I'm sorry?" he asked.

"For the sofa," she said.

"You came here to sleep on the sofa?"

"Well," she said.

"I won't bite," he murmured.

"I didn't think you would. It's just we haven't…" He hadn't specifically requested a room with two beds when they went to America for the Kentucky Derby in May, but  they'd gotten one that had a bedroom and a sitting room with a comfortable enough sofa that he was able to sleep on that.

"I'm aware. There is only one bed here, and I will not have you nor me sleeping on the sofa. It's going to be a hectic weekend preparing."

"I'm sorry. I can go back."

"That is not my meaning." He lifted his wand again, casting a soft light in the room before he drew the covers back. "Come."

"Are you sure?"

She looked so prim and proper standing there in an appropriate white cotton nightdress for the time period. Very innocent. Which made him feel doubly guilty for thinking earlier tonight about the fact that she was now technically seventeen.

"The robe?"

"It's on the sofa," she said.

"Then come, sleep."

She took a few steps in the direction of his bed, stopped, and turned to look back to the doorway, as if she was contemplating going back home. Eventually, she made it to the other side of the bed and climbed on, shifting all the way to the edge and he chuckled softly.

"I won't bite, and won't accost you."

"I know, but it's your bed."

"There is plenty of room, make yourself comfortable."

"So, it knows you," she whispered.

"It would seem so, or it recognizes something ," he murmured. "I've stopped trying to figure out how Hogwarts works."

She turned onto her side then, facing away from him without another word.

And the point of her statement dawned on him, as he was drifting back to sleep.

He now had something familiar to him despite the time period differences in various things.

She had nothing.

Except him.

He felt immense responsibility with that realization.

She was completely reliant on him. She had months of solitude to look forward to, where he was here able to engage in conversations with other staff members and students. They didn't have to go the route of claiming Tom was theirs, but it seemed the best way to go about things. She'd agreed, too. Less questions. And how would they claim to know there was a baby at that orphanage?

He wondered, as he succumbed to Morpheus' call if she regretted it now.

***

August 1996

Harry and Charlie stood on the sidewalk, staring at the house in question.

"I just don't get it," Harry said. Charlie came along instead of Ron because he was an adult so could do magic if needed. Harry was not supposed to be here, so couldn't risk doing magic in this very neighbourhood. He was sure it would draw all sorts of magical people here if illegal magic was done in this particular area.

Charlie disillusioned the both of them as they approached the nicer house.

"No mail or newspapers piled up," Charlie murmured.

Harry looked through a living room window. It was odd not seeing their reflections in the window.

"It's empty."

They both went around back then and found another window to look through.

"Empty here, too," Charlie said.

"Where'd they go? What did they do with all of their stuff?"

"I don't know," Charlie said. "Took it with them?"

"That would suggest they're somewhere in England still then, wouldn't it? Does that seem safe to you?"

Charlie huffed.

"Harry. She's fine. Dumbledore wouldn't lie to you about that."

"I know. It's just so weird. I sent her a letter. A muggle one. It came back to the Dursleys."

"Well, of course it would, Harry. They're not going to forward their address. Even I know that!"

Harry scowled, not having thought of that. He really didn't imagine Voldemort knew much about the postal system. Then, what did he know? For that matter, how did Charlie?

"Please tell me you only did that once. You could have put her in danger, Harry."

"I know, and yes, it was just one."

"She'll be back if she can, Harry. She said so."

"What does that mean? Is the headmaster going to keep her hidden indefinitely?"

"If the threat remains valid."

"And what threat? Why hasn't anyone else heard about it? You'd think Remus would have…"

"Harry. We came. There's no one and nothing here. I know you're missing Hermione, and I know you feel guilty because you think it's your fault she was put in danger."

"Yes."

"It's not your fault. You have to let it go. She'll be back when she can. Professor Snape died, surely that implies something happened, or was going to. If you do more of this, you will actually be the one responsible for putting her in danger."

"You don't think I am now?"

"No. I think she's smart, and can make her own decisions about what she does and doesn't want to do. Including going away with her parents because the headmaster told her about a credible threat against her and them."

Harry huffed.

"You're right," he said. "Thank you for coming with me."

"Well, it was either come with you, or risk you getting suspended again. We kind of like having you around, you know."

"I know."

"So, are we good?"

"Yeah, I just had to see for myself, I guess."

"I understand, which is why I agreed. If she was my best friend, I'd probably want that assurance, too. The headmaster has ensured she's safe."

"I am glad I don't have to go home, Charlie," he said.

"I know I'm not there all of the time, but I know everyone else is equally glad. Mum likes having you around. It's why I said yes to this. If she knew I said no and that caused you to get in trouble."

Harry chuckled.

"Ready then?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com