A/N: alright, here is another story that just recently popped into my head. Since then it has refused to leave and threatened to take my mind with it if I don't start putting it down! It's a time traveling story, but I'm quite certain it'll be unique in its own way. You might be able to spot traces of an old (relatively speaking) movie that inspired the concept (but no, just because you will spot a wardrobe, it's not the Chronicles of Narnia movies). Leave me a note if you'd like to take a guess!

I am still working on finishing up my other story "The Contact". I will never abandon a story. Eventually we will pick up from where we had left off, and go through all that political madness I have planned for you. So if you notice my absence from this story, it's probably because I'm working on the other one, so that I don't have to feel guilty about "neglecting" it. Stay tuned. =)

Also, huge thank you goes to Luna de Papel... Thanks for being my beta! =)

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

Prologue

"What do you mean you are pregnant?" His velvet voice suddenly raised, laced with an unfamiliar emotion that made her wonder whether he was angry or concerned about her condition.

"There isn't a better way to put it, is there?" She questioned back quietly, trying desperately to sound calm. "I'm pregnant. I'm with child, your child."

"But I thought you've been taking potions. I watched you take the potion every time!"

"It has a 99% protection rate," she replied, forcing an uneasy smile as she looked up at him. "I guess this is our 1% luck."

"No, not my potion! Not the potion I brew!" He scowled, "I know the causes of the 1% failure rate from the store-bought potions. That's why I've been brewing it for you. Why didn't you take the one I made you?"

"I... I ran out. A few vials slipped out of my bag and broke when we were running from the snatchers in the forest," she answered; her voice barely audible.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He was not satisfied with her reply. "Why didn't you ask me to brew another batch?"

"You have enough to worry about! I didn't want to burden you with this! I thought... I thought the 1% chance is highly unlikely." She tried to reason with him as her tears threatened to break through her wavering controls. "I know this is a surprise. I'm only here to inform you of the news. It's not like I'm here to ask you to take any responsibility."

He didn't say a word in response. The silence in the room was suffocating.

"I know we haven't talked about this whole... baby thing. Heck, I haven't even thought about this myself until very recently. Who am I kidding... I really shouldn't have expected you to jump up and down with joy with the news, should I? Listen, I will take care of the baby. It's alright if you don't want anything to do with the child. I will raise the baby myself."

"You will force the child grow up without a father?" His voice strained.

"Well, if those are the circumstances we have to live with." She looked down and suddenly found her shoes very interesting. "I will give the baby another last name, different from mine and yours, pretending to have another person as the father. I can make up some background stories. I can..."

"How dare you." He cut her off with his cool voice. The three words felt like ice daggers stabbed through her heart, sending shivers down her spine. She looked up carefully and saw him approach her slowly, his intimidating dark eyes piercing into hers.

"How dare you accuse me of being an irresponsible bastard?" She heard pain in his voice. "How dare you assume I'd be a coward and run away from my responsibilities? You always have to know everything, don't you? It must have never crossed you mind for the briefest moment that we are in fact in the middle of a war, a hopeless one, I might add. And you and I are not even supposed to be seen being in the presence of each other! You've allowed a life to be brought into the horror, the peril, and this miserable world. You said you were concerned about me having too much responsibility, yet you have just informed me of the existence of another life I haven't the slightest idea how to protect!"

"Protection is not what I'm here for!" She raised her voice to match his, unable to stop a tear from escaping down her cheek, "I don't need your protection! We don't need your protection!"

"But that is MY child!" He bellowed as he pointed his hand straight at her midsection.

Silence returned to the room as she quietly wiped away her tears. Before either one could break the uncomfortable silence, a voice suddenly called from the fire place, as the head of Lucius Malfoy struggling to poke through.

"What a pleasant surprise, Lucius." He immediately turned to face the blond-haired wizard, hiding the witch from view behind his tall figure and flowing black robe. "If this is an invitation to Narcissa's dinner party this weekend, you could have just sent me an owl."

"Potter! Potter was in Hogsmeade!" Lucius Malfoy obviously had no interest in any idle chatter. "We were after him, but he disappeared somewhere in the village. Someone must be helping him. He may be heading your way! The Dark Lord is quite eager."

"I see." He nodded at the warning thoughtfully. "I will tend to this immediately."

He watched the fair head of the wizard disappear completely into the green flame before swinging around to face her. "What else are you hiding from me?" He snarled. "Please tell me Malfoy and every other Death Eater in the country is suffering a bad case of paranoia. Please tell me they are only chasing after a shadow. And please, tell me, that your idiotic friends are not as stupid as I had expected!"

She drew in a sharp breath before answering, without meeting his eyes. "That's the other reason why I'm here to see you tonight. I couldn't convince Harry to consult our next move with you. He believes we are running out of time."

"Indeed." He stated darkly, obviously furious about the situation.

She wished he would growl or swear at her, or maybe throw some hexes at the furniture and break something in the room. Any violent outburst would have suited the situation perfectly. But he did none of that. He was rooted to the floor, glaring at her with his dark eyes. When he finally opened his mouth, it was to ask a question in the same cool voice he always used in his classroom. "Anything else?"

"Huh? What?" She was at a loss.

"I'm asking if there are any other reasons why you are here to see me tonight.," he went on coldly, "other than informing me of the lifelong burden I shall carry, and the fact that you are not capable of playing your part in this bloody war as the brains of that reckless Potter, do you have any more grim news to share?"

The tightness in her throat seemed to have sealed away her voice. She could only shake her head, looking back at him through her tear-filled eyes.

He continued to glare at her for a long moment, before turning away towards the door. "Very well," he said as he strode out of the room, "you will stay out of this madness then."

"What do you mean?" She hurried after him and asked.

He turned to face her abruptly before reaching the door. "What I meant is very simple: you will stay here in this room, until it's all over."

"But I must fight! I came here to fight! I will fight with you! I will fight with Harry!"

"Absolutely not!" He sneered. "Not while you are the only protection I can count on for MY child."

She was shocked by his words and couldn't find a proper retort. Without a backward glance he strode out of the dungeon before slamming the door shut behind him.

A very long moment later she whispered through staggered breaths. "There was one more reason why I came here tonight, Severus... I came to tell you... I want to tell you... I love you."

She buried her face in her hands and let out a sob. It was probably best that she didn't humiliate herself by telling him how she felt about him. He couldn't be feeling the same about her. She had probably forced herself too willingly upon him. He probably catered to her just so that she would stop following him around trying to make herself his confidant.

She paced back and forth nervously by the fireplace, completely submerged in her own misery. And then suddenly, she felt the castle shake. She could hear screaming in the hallway. She quickly pulled out her wand and ran for the door. But right when she touched the door knob, a shockwave ran down her fingertips and up through her arm.

"You bastard!" She cursed under her breath. He had meant business when he ordered her to stay until it was "all over".

She swiftly ran through every room in his quarters, looking for a window or another door. But either because his quarters were poorly designed, or he had somehow managed to hide all the exits from her, she couldn't find another way out.

Another explosion somewhere nearby in the castle knocked her down to the ground. A few glass vials from his medicine cabinet fell to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. Looking up, she stared at the chandelier as it swayed dangerously from the living-room ceiling. Letting out a small yelp, she dashed to into his bedroom, just in time to get away from the shattering glass pieces that used to be part of the hundreds of crystal candles.

Crawling deep into the room, she tried to catch her breath as she leaned against his mahogany wardrobe. When she heard the explosions moving closer and closer, her mind began to race. She began to worry someone would blast into his quarters. What if they were Death Eaters? What would she say if they found her there? She would blow his covers. She would bring more danger to him. Thinking quickly, she climbed into the small compartment behind the wooden door of the wardrobe and sat in the corner.

Holding her wand tightly in her hand she leaned against his traveling cloak that was hanging next to her. Taking in his scent of mint and sandalwood she closed her eyes and let her tears fall. "Get me out of here, please." She murmured in her head, "I want to be away from this miserable war, this depressing time, and this hopeless world. All I want is a peaceful place for our baby."

Her eyes flew open when a bright light enveloped the inside of the wardrobe. Had she been hit by a spell? A charm? A curse? Before she could point her wand at the door, the small space where she was ensconced suddenly began to shrink. The young witch lost her balance and fell backwards into endless darkness.

A few moments later, when the light was gone, his lonely traveling cloak was the only thing left in the wardrobe.

Chapter One - a Different Time and a Different Place

August 26, 2058

"Hurry down here Toby Harold Prince! You don't want to miss the shuttle on your first day of school as a third grader!" A woman in her late twenties called towards upstairs as she kept a watchful eye on a simmering cauldron by the kitchen table.

A moment later, hesitating footsteps announced the arrival of the newly promoted third grader. A boy with wavy black hair slowly sat down by the kitchen table but didn't, however, look up from the thick book in his hands.

"You have fifteen minutes to finish your toasts and eggs and get down the lane to the bus stop. Come on sweetie, you don't want to be late." The young woman walked over to the cauldron and checked the thick liquid with a skillful stir, before looking up at her son. The boy had listened to his mother and had begun to munch on his toast, but he still had his head hidden behind the book.

"What are you reading Toby?" She asked him curiously.

"The story of Harry Potter..." He answered absentmindedly.

"Again?" She arched her brows, "you really like that part of the history, don't you?"

He didn't answer his mother's question, but he put the book down as well as his toast. "Mom, are we related to the half-blood Prince?"

"Who?" She asked, but didn't move her attention away from the sandwich she was making him for lunch. "Who's the half-blood prince?"

"The half-blood Prince, you know, Severus Snape! The hero from the British Wizarding Wars."

"Oh him... The hopeless romantic..." She murmured, "I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

"Well for one, we have the same last name as his mother's family. And also, you have a British accent. You told me you might have lived in UK before you lost your memories. I'm thinking there is a chance my dad is also British. So no matter if Prince is your maiden name or dad's last name, our family might be related to Snape's!"

"The wizarding world is not that big sweetie." With a wave of her wand, the witch sent the sandwich, a banana, and a bar of chocolate to a lunch box on the counter. "We are probably all related at some point. Why does that matter anyway, my little detective? Having some extended family way across the Atlantic Ocean wouldn't change anything, would it? You still need to hop on the school bus in ten minutes. As far as this war hero, Severus Snape, I have no idea if he's even alive still. The war ended almost sixty years ago, didn't it?"

"Oh I'm sure he's alive mom." Toby answered seriously. "He's a wizard. Us wizards live a long time, don't we? Maybe we should owl him and ask about our heritage."

"Alright, alright." She came to his side and put his book out of his reach. "We will continue this interesting topic later tonight. Now please hurry up. I'll walk you down the lane, but we'll have to go soon."

"I'm not hungry," Toby pushed the plate away from him and dropped his head. "And I don't want to go to school."

Her heart sank as she heard her son's quiet declaration. He had been having trouble at school since first grade. It wasn't because he didn't like it. Oh no, he was a smart kid and he always loved math and art and reading. All of his teachers seemed to like him; but that didn't prevent the other children in his class from bullying him.

Taking a deep breath she sat down next to him, trying to sound cheerful. "But today is different! We've talked about this already, haven't we? We are starting at a new school and you'll have new frien..."

"You said the same thing last year!" He spat bitterly, as he wiped away a few drops of silent tears with the back of his hands.

She looked down, unable to find a good rebuttal. She had transferred him out of the school he went for first grade at the beginning of his second grade, for the exact same reasons. But apparently the town they lived in was not that big, and the children attending the elementary schools all knew each other somehow. And for whatever reason, the fact that Toby Prince didn't have a father always managed to become the juiciest gossip on the playground.

"Why can't you remember? Why didn't you stay with my dad!" She immediately realized the boy's questions were truly his bitter accusations. Without waiting for a reply from his mother, Toby picked up his backpack and lunch box and dashed out the door.

"Wait!" She tried to go after him, but closed her eyes as she reached the door. He had already run down the country lane. "Have a good day sweetie," she said quietly through a sigh. "I love you."

Being a single parent had always been trying for Hermione Prince, especially when she woke up one day in a park in San Francisco, unable to remember anything about her past. No family or friends came to claim her and she found herself alone, except for the baby she was carrying. She was thankful she had retained some helpful knowledge in charm work and potions. Her abilities quickly found her temporary employment opportunities in the local wizarding community. Eventually, she was able to save up enough money and open her own store. Following her plans she found a quiet community in the Sierras along the freeway connecting California and Nevada, selling incense to muggle tourists and simple potions to the witches and wizards who lived nearby. However, none of the challenges she had to go through as a successful small business owner could compare to what she had to endure as a single mother.

Having absolutely no recollection of her past, Toby had always been her only family; he was her everything. Hermione did all she could to distract him, trying to compensate the boy for the fact that he didn't have a daddy at home. Despite the lack of any extended family, she always made friends quickly with their neighbors as soon as they moved into a new community, hoping to create a friendly circle for Toby. She took him to muggle parks and movies, introducing him to the muggle world; she also took him to the festivals put on by the scattering wizarding communities all along the West Coast, so that he could learn about his heritage, and be prepared for his future as a wizard.

As hard as she tried, it always pained her when she couldn't answer his questions about his father. No matter how much she researched, she simply couldn't find the answers to explain why she couldn't remember her past. Unfortunately it seemed, any information related to Toby's father had vanished along with her own history.

Walking back into her kitchen, she set a dozen crystal vials next to the cauldron. With a wave of her wand, she filled each of them up, and completed the task by inserting a small wooden plug into the top of each vial. The mail order for coughing potions was ready, and Hermione had planned on sending them out with the first owl.

When she came back to the kitchen table, she frowned again at the sight of the barely touched toasts and untouched eggs. He'll definitely like the sandwich then, she tried to comfort herself. And then she saw his favorite book, Harry Potter and His Many Adventures.

She picked up the book and leafed through it briefly, noticing some familiar names like Dumbledore, Harry and Severus. She knew the history of the two wizarding wars well enough to tell which side was good and which side was evil. But for some reason the details of the two wars never registered well in her head, as if she had a mental block on the specifics from that time period. There were only a handful of things that stood out to her from reading about that historical period. One was that Harry Potter had a good friend named Hermione. She thought the heroine must be responsible for the name's popularity. Her own parents, no matter who they were, must have thought naming their daughter after a war hero would bring her good fortune. The other fact about the war that impressed the witch the most was Severus Snape's dedication to a woman named Lily. No one would be so silly to hang on to a high school sweetheart these days, she thought to herself when she first read about him. Was Lily even his high school sweetheart? Hermione couldn't recall any stories about that particular romance. Secretly, she called Snape the hopeless romantic and firmly believed his story couldn't be completely true. Even historians might be tempted to add a little glamour to the historic characters sometimes. Of that, she was quite sure.

Toby, on the other hand, seemed to be completely bewitched by the Harry Potter stories. He had read the complete series at least three times as far as Hermione could recall; and he was only nine! It's time to find him new reading material. Hermione made a mental note as she walked down the country lane towards her small shop, the freshly brewed potion vials in the basket dangling on her arm.

TBC

A good stopping point for the beginning... Now let the drama unfold! =)