Left Behind

Disclaimer: I stand on the heads of literary giants (I'm very short so shoulders aren't enough :D).

If it's familiar, it's JK Rowling's. If I accidentally ripped off someone's fanfic, drop me a line and I'll rectify it. This disclaimer holds true for the rest of this fic so I shan't repeat it anymore. True mostly until HBP, after which it's AU, but I may include whatever helps from DH.

I won't be able to update regularly due to RL, but I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it. 8D

Chapter One

"But at times I wondered if I had not come a long way to find that what I really sought was something I left behind."
Thomas West

King's Cross Station, end of Sixth Year

Time has a way of changing things such that stories told, as they are passed, are never quite the way they started.

Looking back, that day was, without a doubt, an unusually hot one. The sun beat down mercilessly on the backs of everyday muggles who took refuge under the shade offered by the King's Cross Station. Wiping the sweat off of their foreheads, few noticed the young girl in an off-white blouse and long burgundy skirt appearing in their midst. Had they paid closer attention, they would have realised that she had apparently come through a solid wall. They would have noticed the squash-faced cat she carried in one arm, the impossibly heavy, but very small bag she carried in the other and her flushed face in between. But why would they notice when after all, she seemed so absolutely ordinary?

The loss of colour in her cheeks, however, was not caused by the high temperatures – judicious application of Cooling Charms kept majority of the heat away – but because the girl in question had just lied to all her friends that her parents were waiting for her on the other side of Platform 9 ¾. Since she was striding in the direction of the nearest bus stop, that clearly was not the case.

'One must lie under certain circumstances and at all times when one can't do anything about them'. Hermione reminded herself of a book read in her youth, 'It is simply too dangerous. You have to do this as fast as possible'.

She had not informed her parents that she was arriving today. Why draw them unnecessarily out of the already insufficient wards Lupin had put in place for them? He could have only done so much at that time and the way Hermione saw it, those security wards wouldn't be enough in the months to come.

Turning around a corner, she contemplated the beginnings of the plan she would put into action today. One night just before the exams, she had stayed up finishing a rather tedious History of Magic Essay on the Goblin Wars when it hit her. Glunfeek the Gunk had his Meinala, Achilles had his heel, Mark Antony had his Cleopatra and she? What did she have?

Oh yes, she had her family.

A family now protected by a midnight visit and Remus' help - protection that couldn't withstand the rising terror everywhere. It was time to put her next plan into place; they had to be sent away.

Hermione smoothly stepped into the bus. It was a full bus so she was forced to stand, but she was grateful nonetheless as the Cooling Charms had already begun to slip. Outside the trees and street blended into a mesh of gray and green before her tired eyes. Still, she could not fall asleep. With her wand neatly camouflaged in the folds of her skirt, she thought alertness paramount at that moment.

A flash of red caught her eye and she turned to see standing nearby, a man in charcoal gray pants and an obscenely attention-grabbing – and she had to admit, Gryffindor – red. She looked up from the man's clothes and noticed the set jaw, the rather prominent nose. 'Why was he so familiar?' Looking up to the most arresting eyes she had ever seen, the moment of clarity hit her like a bludger; the words slipped out faster than the rule of self-preservation – to keep silent – kicked in,

"Professor Snape?" Hermione gasped.

Only the slight tipping of his head showed he acknowledged her presence. Fear gripped her as her mind began whirring and quickly she averted her eyes. 'He's a Legilimens.' quickly entered her thoughts. The rush of questions in her head began to confuse her. 'Was he alone? Was he here to kidnap her? Would he hurt the muggles –'

The whirring of her mental gears abruptly ceased. He couldn't possibly attack her here. Surely Professor Snape of all people would know the consequences of breaking the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. Ancient geasa were not to be trifled with.

Clinging to that thought, Hermione struggled to keep a calm façade and hope none of her internal turmoil was evident. She turned sideways to look at him once more. 'Disarm him with your calm, Granger.' "How are you, Sir?" Hermione ventured to query.

A quirk of an eyebrow was his response.

"Not too pleasant I see." she blushed, feeling rather embarrassed by the quality of her attempted small talk.

The professor's eyebrow only rose higher.

Hermione turned again to watch the houses pass outside and trepidation had her heart beating a steady tattoo. The irony in the professor's attire did not escape her nor did the absurdity of their situation. As they passed one house after another, it occurred to Hermione that getting off at the right stop would give this Death Eater a clear idea of where precisely she lived.

The bus slowed to a stop and she moved to get off, when a quick, heavy grip caught her shoulder mid-step.

"You have two more stops, don't you, Miss Granger?" With his words muttered sotto voce, she doubted anyone around them could hear him.

The girl in question turned and nodded, her fear clearly visible in her eyes as she stepped back and clung to the safety rail. Her knuckles were white under the pressure, her face likewise and the brief ride felt like the longest bus ride in the world. Her analytical mind found it the irony of all ironies that she was bringing the veritable executioner to her parents' front door.

Dragging his hand through his hair, the professor watched her with something akin to fascination. Where was his over-eager, gratingly confident, yet, quite frankly, very brilliant, student? He found her calm now, more tranquil than he had ever seen her and the muggle attire certainly enhanced what school robes always had hidden, but her eyes. Oh, her eyes were not at all hers. She would look at him in class with big eyes full of questions, bright and luminous.

These dark orbs were calculating, fearful, cold and tired. Snape had never thought to look at his students that way, but he was man enough to notice thatthis student usually had beautiful, expressive amber eyes – though he would never attest to such poetic observation. Yet, these - these were not hers.

He observed her watching the passing cars outside and decided he would have to choose his words with care. When he tapped the young girl's shoulder two stops later, he addressed her softly, "I would rather that you not come back next year."

She seemed to have not noticed him as she swiftly got off the bus and strode in what he knew was the wrong direction. A stop later and he too was striding to a nearby hedge behind which he Apparated back to Spinner's End.

When he drank his tea that night, Severus Snape enjoyed what he knew were his last few hours of freedom. The Dark Lord expected him for an entire summer of service at Malfoy Manor, yet depressing as that knowledge was, his thoughts flew back to that moment Miss Granger got off the bus. In the swirling mix of leaves and milk in his cup, he could only see the meld of fury and fear in Miss Granger's eyes and wonder if the thrum of that same, ambivalent emotion was visible in his.

AN: I think I took too many liberties in this very first chapter. For starters, I modeled the bus system after that in Asia as I have no firsthand experience with UK buses. Secondly, there's a To Kill a Mockingbird quote in there, just for kicks. Thirdly, PM me if you see errata because I'm beta-less at present. Frankly, it feels scary to approach any of those really brilliant writers so I'll delay it while I can.

Reviews would be of great help :)