Disclaimer: I just write to entertain my readers.

One Night in the Future Past

Hermione crept along the darkened halls of Hogwarts aware that the time turner had sent her forward in time. She had no clue as to how far she'd been catapulted or even why.

Hermione and most of her friends had survived the war. Only Harry and Voldemort had perished together in a conflagration of wand overloads. Six months later, most of the Death Eaters had been rounded up and either banished or sent to Azkaban. Try as he might, Severus Snape had tried to die a hero. However, in an heroic move, Hermione had botched that for him, and he had reluctantly survived. Minerva McGonagall was sent Dumbledore's last testimony by his brother. Both of them testified at Snape's trial. Grudgingly the Wizengamot had to exonerate Snape, and then it sent him back to teach dunderheads the science of potions at Hogwarts. After graduation, Hermione was apprenticed at the Ministry of Magic in the Arithmancy Department. It was there, in an ancient chest, that she had found a surviving time turner. She had dusted it off which had accidentally given it a very long forward spin.

Hermione kept moving toward the Gryffindor common room, hoping that she'd see a face that she knew or a friendly portrait to inquire her time. Hearing laughter and chatter, she ducked into a dark recess and looked hard at the children's faces as they ascended the staircases to their dormitories. Since they were being led en masse by Prefects, she guessed that it must be a first night after the sorting ceremony and welcoming banquet. She saw a young man who caused her to gasp in recognition. It was her face, or nearly so. The nose was not quite right though, and his hair was a riot of thick black curls, cut somewhat short to keep it from flying off on its own. He definitely looked like a man on a mission, and yet his eyes were full of sadness.

She wondered to herself, "So I married and have a son. I wonder who my husband is. It's not looking like he's Ron." A silent chuckle made its way forward.

The Gryffindors piled through the portrait hole. The young man took one look around as if he knew she was present. That move on his part made Hermione tuck herself more deeply into the dark. She did not want him to see her until she could figure out when in time she was and why.

As the door slid shut, she felt eyes on her. Was it Filch?

"Show yourself," a low voice called out.

It was not Filch; it was Snape! Hermione did as she was told. This Snape was much older than the Snape she'd left in her immediate past. She knew now that the time turner had tossed her decades into the future. Her son was 17 or 18 and Snape looked to be 70 now. He was still stock straight and lanky, but his hair had all gone greyed and was as long as Dumbledore's had been. A soft grey beard covered over scars and wrinkles.

Immediately, Snape's jaw and wand dropped from surprise. Hermione remained rooted to her spot, still and quiet. Slowly, Snape stuffed his wand away and took two deliberate paces toward her. His hand reached out and touched her cheek. His lips moved, "Hermione…" but no sound followed.

His other hand joined the first and caressed her face. His eyes, swollen and moist, devoured her. Then he pulled her to himself in a longing embrace.

"My Hermione, you have come back to me," he whispered in her ear.

"What are you talking about Professor?" Hermione broke into his reverie.

Snape pulled himself back and realized while this was Hermione Granger, it was not his Hermione…at least not yet. With melancholy in his eyes, he continued to look longingly at her.

"Come with me and I'll explain," Snape took her hand in his and led her to his new quarters.

"You're the Headmaster?" she was surprised.

"Yes," he began, "but that's another story for another day."

The stairs rose to his office and he opened the door for her. The office décor was not that different from McGonagall's scheme nor from Dumbledore's for that matter. Both portraits of her headmasters greeted her cheerily from the wall.

McGonagall reminded them both, "Now Severus, I know how much you have missed Hermione, but she's only here temporarily."

"You can't keep her here, my boy," cautioned Dumbledore. "If you do, you will alter the proper course of history!"

Snape just kept looking at Hermione.

"Was that my son I saw just a bit ago?" Hermione asked Snape.

"Our son," he began, "yes. His name is Nathaniel."

"Our son?" she looked puzzled, having never thought of Snape as a potential marriage partner.

"Our first son. You gave me two daughters and two sons before you left me," he continued lost in the moment as he again put his arms around her and caressed her hair. "Our daughter, Ofelia, graduated last year. She was the Slytherin Prefect. She looked so much like you at that age, too."

Hermione was confused and yet disinclined to push him away. She had never seen Snape show any emotions other than negative ones. She suddenly felt the sense of his loss deeply.

"Why did I leave you? Could we not fix our marriage?" Hermione then offered.

"A fifth child cost you your life…" he moaned. "It cost me even more for you left me behind with our four surviving children. Friends kept telling me to remarry, but I simply could not find another you. I've been alone since your death."

"Oh…" was all she could get out.

Snape pulled her closer and kissed her ever so gently. He slipped his hands up and down her back as he nibbled tenderly on her earlobe and neck. His passion for his beloved wife began to build.

"Ah, Hermione, I love you so…" his silky voice murmured in her ear. "I have missed you these many long days."

She was about to be swept away in the ardor of the man when she remembered when she was!

"Headmaster!" she pulled back, pushing forcefully against his chest. "I am not your wife, at least not right now. I'm at the Ministry while you are teaching potions again at Hogwarts. I'm from the past."

It was like ice water in Snape's face. He had lost himself in the dream of his Hermione come back to him. He recoiled at his own actions.

"Miss Granger, I'm terribly sorry. I have imposed upon you terribly," Snape proffered.

Her hands rose to touch his face tenderly, "Sir, I am just as confused by it all as you are. I think this time turner brought me here for a reason. I'm just not sure what that reason is."

"Don't have that fifth child!" Snape blurted out. "I need you too much to have you die again."

He cast down his eyes and continued, "It's too much to ask of you to rewrite your own, our, history. You wanted that child as much as I had…it was a breeched baby. She got all tangled up in the cord. You both died within a week of each other and took the lion's share of my heart with you.

"Since most time turner travel is done backward, take this with you for the future. You may forget what has transpired here," Snape hastily wrote a parchment and handed it to her. He again put his arms around her and held her for all he was worth.

"Just curious, sir. How long were we married? How did we fall in love?" Hermione wanted to know. He head was tucked comfortably under his chin.

"It was at a Ministry function…something frivolous that Minerva made me attend. I hated every moment of it until you sat down at my table. You made fun of my sulking at having been sent. I sniped at you until you had put me in my place. It was then that we actually began to talk like two civilized adults. I have loved you ever since, Hermione. I never stopped loving you," he said quietly. "We enjoyed twelve years of marriage. Oh, we had our fights, but making up was all the better," a sly smile crept across his face. "They remain the twelve best years of my life."

"I see. I never would have pegged you for such an incurable romantic," she smiled at him.

"With the Dark Lord gone forever, I could let down my guard a bit. Even then it took you a couple of years working on me before I could even say, 'I love you,'" he confessed. "You and Albus Dumbledore saved me – from myself and perpetual darkness."

"I must go back now, sir," Hermione begged.

With a deep sigh and heavy heart, Snape nodded and released her. She reached up and kissed him good-bye and mentally calculated the return to her proper time. In the twinkling of an eye, she was gone. Snape stood in the middle of the floor reeling from the night's events. He swayed a little before stumbling to his desk where he fell into the chair. He felt the tears sliding down his cheeks as they had done so often since his Hermione had left him.

"Oh, if it weren't for my children, I'd end it all tonight," he wept. "Maybe when Madeline graduates, I'll…"

He slinked off to his quarters. His long teaching robe was hung on the peg behind the door. His outer robes were folded across a chair. His shoes we kicked off at the foot of the bed in his darkened bedroom. His other outer clothes were placed in their proper spots. No matter how depressed he was, he was still a very tidy man. He tugged his old grey nightshirt over his aching head. Thus he crawled under the covers.

"Severus, my love, why didn't you light a lamp. You know I can't sleep until you are next to me," a soft, feminine voice spoke.

Snape's head rose from its lingering wretchedness as he spun around to face the voice, "Hermione! My Hermione! I've not lost you after all! You're alive!"

It seemed too good to be true, but there was an older version of Hermione lying in his bed under the fluffy down comforter. He clutched her to himself and held her for dear life.

"My love, I could not bear your loss when I returned. I was able to remember our conversation this night in the future past."