"Congratulations," someone beside Severus said as he looked through the window that gave those in the foyer a perfect view into the newborn nursery. It took him a moment to realize the woman was speaking to him.

"I'm sorry?"

"I assume one of them is yours," she said, pointing at the newborns on the other side of the window.

Oh, of course she would. He was highly amused, certain she thought whoever had fornicated with him for the purposes of procreation had to be blind.

"No," he said.

It was the middle of the night. He had assumed he'd be undisturbed on this errand coming at this time. He inwardly scolded himself for allowing the Notice-Me-Not he'd cast earlier to fade away. He hadn't meant to stop at the glass to look at her again before leaving, though.

The woman looked at him questioningly, concern evident in her eyes. Severus realized he had to come up with a story and quickly or she was liable to think he was planning to abscond with one of the newborns.

The very thought made him shudder.

"Disgruntled friend of the family paying my respects covertly," he said with a brief nod.

Saying he was a relative didn't sit well with him even if he'd never see this woman standing beside him again.

Fate had seen fit to make one of the babies on the other side of the glass his bonded soulmate.

In another life, one not steeped in war and serving two masters, maybe he would have had the inclination to claim what was his. He knew there was no point in doing so, though. Despite wizards having a generous life expectancy, Severus Snape did not anticipate his lasting much longer than it already had given his work as a spy. Still, claiming to be family to her seemed … wrong.

"I figured this would be the least intrusive time to do so."

"Oh," she said with a cautious nod. "Well, congratulations to your friends then."

"Indeed."

"Which one is theirs?"

He only knew as a result of the sign Fate had given them as to who they were to each other. Babies all looked wrinkly and splotchy to him, not that he had an abundance of experience with them. He'd cast the Notice-Me-Not on himself to go into the nursery and get his left hand close enough to the newborn girl's left hand for the marks to glow, assuring himself that he'd indeed found her. The sign at the edge of the bassinet identifying her as Baby Girl Granger verified that as fact. Fortunately, she'd been only the second baby he'd checked on. As there were over a dozen he could've been there for over an hour searching for her. Never having been in such a position before the name cards escaped him at first. He pointed in the general vicinity without making it clear it was Hermione Jean Granger he gestured to.

"And you?" he asked, realizing the question was appropriate given the circumstances. She was clearly a patient by the gown and robe she was dressed in.

She, fortunately, pointed in the other direction from Hermione. (The fact she looked nothing like Miss Granger had told him she did not belong to this woman but he was relieved nonetheless.)

"Congratulations," he said with a nod.

"Thank you. I just came to check he was still sleeping," she said.

"Ah," he said. Clearly, the male newborn in question was doing just that. The blue hat told him it was male. Hermione's head was covered with a pink one. How original. Of course, he supposed he'd adorned a blue one much like this woman's newborn son did.

Mother looked relieved.

"Good night then," she said.

"Good night," he replied.

He waited until she was out of sight before turning from the window himself and departing the maternity ward. In a stairwell, he retrieved a medallion from his pocket, found the groove along the edge and closed his eyes. He felt the whoosh that had unsettled him an hour or so ago but was prepared for this time. He focused on his chambers as he traveled away from this date.

July 1996

"So," he said as he poured himself a glass of Ogden's and took a seat in front of his fireplace. It didn't matter that it was July, the dungeons were always chilled. "That was how it all began for her."

He sipped his drink, closing his eyes as he recalled their marks flaring to life even with her only being a few hours old. Touching her in such a manner when she was still a child would not have bonded her to him. He still avoided it, though, the marks flaring to life being in such close proximity made it so he didn't have to. He'd avoided, barely, touching her while he helped heal her after she nearly died at the Department of Mysteries. Their hands had been in close enough proximity, though, for him to catch a glimpse of her mark flaring to life as it recognized his. He'd ensured he used only his right hand anywhere near her left hand from that moment on. He knew, she did not, and as far as he was concerned she never would.

So, it had started quite typically, really. At least what he knew about muggle births. His mother had never really imparted much to him as far as his own birth, and his mother had been a pureblood witch even if he'd been born the muggle way. She was so small, innocent, not a clue what was in store for her, what she would become. Most especially, what the Fates had in store for her. Or, more appropriately disappointingly for her, who.

Him. Surely she'd think it was a joke if she ever found out.

Not that he was planning on surviving the war for it to be an issue anyway. Niggling at the back of his mind, though, was the fact that with her help, her trust in him, he maybe could survive and have a life away from serving two masters.

Had he ever even envisioned a normal life?

Not that he could remember.

He supposed when he'd first met Lily, but once they'd gotten to Hogwarts he'd known it was not to be. He just never expected their friendship to be irreparable, for her not to forgive him for a mistake in the heat of a most embarrassing moment.

He stowed the medallion away. He'd created it years ago, a - as the muggles called it - Get Out Of Jail Free card. He wasn't a coward, he wouldn't run away, but if things seemed entirely hopeless he could go back and fix things. He was determined to let things run their course for now, though. In part because at this point he still wasn't sure what to fix. It wasn't every day a dead man came back to life years later. Until he knew how and why it had happened he would wait it out. Albus had seemed to know all along it would happen, but Severus still hadn't figured out how the old wizard knew. Or why he wouldn't share the information with Severus.

Using it to visit a newborn muggle was probably not the wisest thing he'd done, but Albus' apparent disregard for not just Severus' reputation but his soul had made him question things.

Everything.

His lot in life. His loneliness. His mate.

He had one.

He, Severus Snape, the Bat of the Dungeons, had a soul marked mate and not just that.

He had found her.

The Fates chose to reveal their secret to him. Why shouldn't he act upon it? Within reason, of course. Was it so wrong for him to want someone on his side? Someone to believe he wasn't evil. Even if she was just a slip of a witch.

September 1996

Of course, she wouldn't remember his first memory of her. He planted it with the charm, though. The first memories would be brief, a moment in time. As she got older and knew him as her potions professor the memories would be longer, conversations and friendly excursions together that never crossed the line of propriety.

He would never do that.

"Sir?" Her fingers twitched along the spine of the book, but she didn't move or make any effort to flee the room.

Story ©Susan Matthews/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com