A/N: I'm going to try to do an A/N only in this first chapter and leave the rest of the story to flow. Things to know: SS/HG romantic pairing, rated R for a reason, not canon compliant, I changed a bunch of stuff which I'm sure you'll figure out quickly. I've changed some other things (ages and such) so hang in there and wait for the explanation. Otherwise, I have this plotted out in my head and hope to update as frequently as possible. Improbable Magic is on hiatus because I've lost my notes…
Hermione Granger stared at the stone grey castle before her. Feelings of excitement and danger, safety and home washed over her as her mind quickly flitted through memories of her time within those walls. Familiar faces, some lost, some saved were flickering in her mind faster than she could keep up. She felt 16 again. Before she could become too lost in her reverie, a small hand squeezed hers tightly, drawing her attention to the small child before her, a little girl, perhaps three years old, with wild honey curls pulled into pigtails, stared up at her.
"Mummy, is this Hogwarts?" the child asked inquisitively.
"Yes, my love, this is Hogwarts," she replied tenderly.
The little girl puzzled at the imposing structure before her. Hermione watched her criticism.
"What do you think?" Hermione asked.
"I dunno, too soon to say," she said seriously, shrugging her shoulders.
Hermione chuckled and tugged at the girl's hand softly, guiding her towards the front doors.
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The halls were dimly lit, much like Hermione remembered them, but there was a certain cheerfulness to them that brought warm feelings into her chest, putting a rosiness in her cheeks that had been absent for far too long. It was friendships, laughter, the love experienced before you realize your feelings for someone has overtones of romance, it was light and filling, something Hermione had been desperately missing for many years.
Each portrait, each crevice, each statue held a special memory. The tension that had built in Hermione's shoulders over the years began to slack, the creases in her forehead to unfurrow, the thoughts of her present fading into the recesses of her sub-consciousness. She felt as if she had finally come home. Safe, nurtured, valued, she had returned.
The little girl soaked everything in with a different sort of reverie. Moving portraits and burning torches brought no such memories to her, but how could they at such a young age. But it did remind her of stories her mother told her, of her adventures, of her studies, her triumphs and failures, of her life when she was a child, something the young girl couldn't quite picture. After all, who can imagine their own mother as a child.
Making their way slowly down the hallway, Hermione found her way to the doors to the Great Hall. She stood before them for only a moment, pushing them open to see the tables spread before her, empty, waiting for the students to arrive in a few days time, to fill them again with their laughter and dreams as much as their reservations and fears. The large table on the dais was empty, the podium in the front waiting for someone to stand before it. A new year would begin and Hermione hoped her new life would begin as well.
While the small girl looked around at the brightly colored banners and charming blue cloud sky above them, she was enchanted by the magic around her. Her life was not devoid of magic, but this was certainly a different kind of magic than she was used to. The silence between them was comfortable and close and only interrupted by a warm, familiar gasp.
"Hermione, you're here!" Professor McGonagall cheered.
"Hello Professor!" Hermione returned cheerfully.
Professor McGonagall made her way to Hermione, pulling into a matronly hug and looking her over as a mother might do a child she hadn't seen in months.
"I'm so glad you've taken up my offer. The staff was over the moon when I told them you'd accepted the position in transfiguration. One of our finest students, returning to the fold. It's such an exciting time!" the older woman beamed.
Hermione smiled and laughed. "I didn't even have to think about it."
"I know this means you'll have to leave your husband at home but with Alexander here already and with this lovely young lady, most of your family will be together. Ron can visit whenever he likes you know," the professor said.
Hermione's smile dropped, "yes, well, he travels so much for work you see, spends most of his time in Bulgaria. I don't know that we'll be seeing much of him."
"Ah, well, no matter. Now, I don't think I have been introduced to the youngest Weasley," Professor McGonagall said looking down at the curly haired girl.
"Professor McGonagall, this is Emiline. Emiline, this is Professor McGonagall," Hermione introduced.
Hermione was surprised at the small girl's silence. "Emiline, please say hello."
"Hello 'fessor managa- mona -… I can't say that," Emiline said honestly to her mother.
The two women issued a small chuckle. "Well, how about you just call me Auntie. Until you're sorted at least, then you can call me Professor McGonagall."
The little girl smiled, "Auntie, Mummy says you can change into a kitty…"
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Professor McGonagall escorted Hermione and Emiline to their new rooms, far enough away from the major hallways to give some peace for their family but convenient enough for Hermione to get quickly to lessons, the Great Hall or to the Gryffindor Common Room. As the young girl was quickly settled into her new room, her belongings having been sent ahead, Hermione looked around at their new situation. A large window gave a breathtaking view of the lake and forest and she imagined what it would be like once the snow began to settle. Hermione heard her young daughter playing in her room and for the first time in a long time, she sat down in a chair, leaned her head back and sighed a great sigh of relief. All she wanted for the three of them was to be happy and safe. Hogwarts was the only place she could think of when she thought of those things, despite the danger she had found herself in over her years there.
Hermione had nodded off. She was in that euphoric state between consciousness and unconsciousness where one dreams without being asleep. A calm fell over her as the images moving at shutter speed before her brought back warm feelings of belonging and hope. She hadn't felt that good in years.
"Mummy," Emiline called, waking Hermione from her near slumber.
"Yes, my darling?"
"What am I going to do when you and Zander are in lessons?" she asked inquisitively.
"Our new friend Flitsy, the house elf, will stay with you."
"Oh," Emiline said thoughtfully. "When's lunch?"
Hermione laughed. Nothing bothered three year olds for long and she had moved on to the next thing quickly.
"About now, I suppose. We're going to the Great Hall. Now we talked about all of this, remember? You have to sit beside me, you use your table manners and you can't play with Alexander."
"Yes, Mummy," the child said dutifully.
"Alright then, let's go. There are more people you should meet."
The little girl stood up and took her mother's hand, leaving their new home and making their way to the Great Hall.
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A few of the faculty had already been seated and were talking about summer holidays and preparations for the coming year. Professor McGonagall rose to show Hermione to her seat.
"You'll have my old seat here and there's a place for Emiline right beside you," she directed, "please sit down, we'll start soon."
Emiline struggled to crawl into the large chair, ignoring offers of help from those around her.
"It's best just to let her do it herself," Hermione told them, "she's a bit stubborn that way."
"Sounds like someone else I know," someone quipped.
The lightheartedness continued as plates began to fill and the staff welcomed Hermione and her daughter back to Hogwarts.
Hermione felt a gentle tug on her sleeve. "Mummy, who sits here?" the child asked, pointing to the empty seat beside her.
Before Hermione could wager a guess, a figure moved quickly from the side door, crossed the room and walked towards the chair. With a hand on his chair, he looked down at the small figure beside him. Small feet dangling off the chair seemed comical to him. He merely sneered and sat down.
Emiline looked at him for a moment before speaking. "Hi, I'm three."
Severus Snape looked down his nose at the curly haired girl with the button nose. "Three is a very unusual name for a child," he responded.
The little girl drew a hand up to cover her mouth and giggled. "No, I'm three years old. My name is Emiline Weasley."
Severus surveyed her and picked up his silverware. Emiline wrinkled her forehead.
"Scuse me," she said.
"Yes," he answered.
"What's your name?" she asked him innocently.
"I'm Professor Snape," he responded blandly.
"Nice to meet you 'fessor Snay."
"Emiline, why don't we let Professor Snape eat his lunch as you should eat yours," Hermione told her.
Emiline nodded and turned to Severus.
"That's my Mummy," she whispered to him, "I gotta do what she say."
He was intrigued by the small figure beside him. She struggled with silverware that seemed overly large for her small hands. It was intriguing to him somehow but he didn't know why. She kicked her legs gently but in rhythm as she ate her lunch quietly. The little girl certainly didn't look like Ron Weasley's daughter, but then neither did Alexander Weasley. For their sake, he was glad Hermione seemed to have stronger genetics. It was curious, he thought to himself, Hermione Granger taking the appointment at Hogwarts. But he had heard all the rumors, just as everyone else had. He was English after all, and for the sake of propriety, no one, including him, dared speak about Weasley's indiscretions and never in front of Hermione. He was impressed that photos in the Prophet were always of a proud Hermione Granger and a loving mother. If it bothered her at all, what everyone was saying about her husband, she didn't seem to show it.
As his gazed shifted from the small figure in front of him to the larger sized version of the little girl, it was no surprise that Hermione Granger had grown up. She looked a little worn. Not the kind of worn of a war heroine but someone that life had perhaps been unkind to. He could feel something around her, something protective, perhaps for the small child beside her, perhaps not, he couldn't tell. One thing he did know, the Hermione Granger he remembered from those 12 years ago was only a shadow of the woman seated two chairs down for him. It intrigued him and that was never good.