I highkey dislike waiting around for updates so I do not plan on doing the same to y'all. Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Chapter 2: Revelations
She wasn't sure how she thought Snape would react, but it was definitely not like this. He continued to stare at her coldly, not moving the wand a single inch. Finally, he spoke.
"You are most definitely not Miss Granger, whom I just passed in the hallway as I rushed back to my chambers. I will ask one final time before I cause you unbearable pain: Who are you?" he ground out, his voice dripping with the most venom that she had ever heard it possess.
Shit. Of course he doesn't believe me, traditional time turners go back at most five hours without harm. Okay okay new plan, she thought to herself.
"Ask me something." she said, meeting his eyes resolutely.
"I beg your pardon?" he said, thrown off by her odd request.
"If you do not believe I am Hermione, feel free to ask any question that you require to ascertain my identity. Or perhaps I will just start telling you about how you taught me potions until year 5, Defense Against the Dark Arts in year 6, and then became Headmaster Snape in what would have been my 7th year had I not been on the run." she said back, rushing through her words in an effort to convince him before she was embarrassingly hexed.
His face registered absolute astonishment – or as much as he would allow it to, before his hard expression once again schooled itself, his eyes narrowing into little slits. "Am I supposed to believe that I become headmaster next year?" he asked her in a convincing attempt to feign no knowledge of the events to come. But his posture relaxed slightly and Hermione noted that she had been given the implicit opportunity to explain herself more before he decided to inflict bodily harm.
"Sir, I have been sent back at Dumbledore's request. The war is over in my time, and we have triumphed," she started – stressing the we so that he would understand that he was included in this triumph. She needed to make it absolutely clear that she had no doubts as to where his loyalties lay – "but we have triumphed at a great cost of life. Dumbledore possessed one remaining time turner – of unknown capabilities – and he chose to use it to save you." she finished courageously, omitting the part where she once again had been asked to do something for Dumbledore with little direction or clarity about why.
"Is Dumbledore alive in your time?" he asked cautiously, his eyes still narrowed and the wand still pointed in her direction, though his hand had lowered considerably as she spoke.
"Goodness no," she responded, "You killed him. But his portrait still has a penchant for ordering us about."
"So you believe me to kill Dumbledore in the future and yet you are still here?" Snape questioned, his eyes unreadable.
"Yes. Like I said, I am here to save you. You died in the final battle at Voldemort's hand. Apparently Dumbledore believes you to be worth saving after the 'tremendous service you have done for the Order' or something of the sort," Hermione explained, hoping he would finally understand.
"You idiot." His voice rose slightly as comprehension dawned upon him. He looked her up and down, finally realizing that she was indeed simply an older version of Hermione and not a Polyjuice-lookalike of the current one. His eyes raked over her, finally settling back at her warm brown eyes as he cast a counterhex, freeing her from the invisible ropes that had bound her.
As she sat up, adjusting to moving her arms and legs once more, she noticed the lack of time turner around her neck. She looked up at him questioningly, and he nodded in the direction of the small table resting a few feet away. Glittering glass shards decorated the table and she felt a sudden sinking feeling as she realized the irrevocability of what she had done.
"Yes, you idiot. Your attempts to get into my chambers resulted in your time turner smashing into bits. I tried repairing it but clearly, I was unable." he said, his tone frosty. "I suppose you will just have to go to France or something for a couple years until the war blows over." He added, his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out where the girl could possibly go.
"Wait, what?" she asked, but he continued hypothesizing, paying her no mind. "-or maybe Denmark? The Danes can be discreet. Maybe Muggle Australia?"
Hermione winced at that one; God only knows where my parents are, she thought, trying not to dwell on those prospects until she had completed her current mission.
"Professor, did you not understand me? I am here to save you. Dumbledore specifically requested – " she attempted to say before she was rudely cut off.
" – I understand, Miss Granger, that Dumbledore found me to be worth saving. I am flattered – " he sounded anything but flattered as he drawled on, " – but I am afraid that I cannot be saved. My fate has long been decided." He said staring into her eyes with an expression of finality.
"I am not going to Australia." she said, highly annoyed at the suggestion. "I did not pledge another year and a half of service to the Order to go lie on a beach, drink Coke, and surf." Snape's brow crinkled a bit at her words – no doubt trying to figure out what Coke was – but she continued on, not pausing for breath. "I came here to save you and Hermione Granger does not fail at the tasks that she is given. You will be saved."
His lips curled into a sneer at that, "Well well, aren't you ever the valiant Gryffindor. You do understand that even if I wanted to be saved – you cannot save me. There is no future for me after the war save for Azkaban. I would rather die a thousand deaths at Voldemort's hand rather than be subject to Dementors' kisses for all eternity."
"I assume I am here in part to bear witness," Hermione interjected.
"To bear witness?" Snape seemed momentarily caught off guard.
"Yes, to bear witness. No one, except you and Dumbledore, knows that you are a double agent for the Order. And since obviously you intend to kill Dumbledore, someone else has to know that you are a double agent. Sir – the Death Eaters will be facing trial after the war, as I am sure you assumed. I am here to begin your defense." Hermione replied.
"My defense?" He laughed at that, a piercingly hollow laugh that shook Hermione down to her core. "What is there to defend, Miss Granger? I willingly joined the Death Eaters. I relished the thought of power, of fame, of fortune. And I led innocent people to their death. What I have done is indefensible." He concluded, his shadowed eyes beginning to cloud with memories as he shuddered almost imperceptibly.
"Regardless –" he continued "— I do not wish to be saved. I would recommend you take leave of me and head to some godforsaken Muggle land to wait out the rest of this war." He concluded.
"Your recommendation has been noted." Hermione responded, defiantly crossing her legs and planting herself more firmly on the window seat. She took the opportunity to look around a bit more, realizing that she was inside Snape's quarters. She registered a faint scent of wood and spice as she scanned the room, marveling at the regal assortment of furniture Snape possessed. Clearly Dumbledore kept him well-compensated for his efforts – red and green Afghan rugs, ornate light fixtures, polished wood tables – the space was simply breathtaking. The mahogany bookcase to her right contained hundreds of leather-bound books, many with gold-leaf spines. To her left, two shuttered doors enticed her with what lay beyond them.
Snape's left eyebrow arched gracefully – "Let me clarify my recommendation – I insist that you take leave of me. Think of it more as an order, if you will."
Hermione bit her lip, about to retort scathingly, when the sound of bells clanging in the distance cut through the discussion.
Snape looked at her, and then back at the entrance to his chambers, before hissing, "Stay here. Do not move an inch. You cannot be seen under any circumstances." as he swept out of the room and out the door.
Hermione assumed he had a Defense Against the Dark Arts class to teach – and of course, it would have looked highly suspicious had he been absent – so she busied herself in the meantime by inspecting the texts on the bookshelf.
He had nearly every book imaginable in his possession – everything from books on defensive spells to books on the history of magic. Hermione was quite simply entranced by the multitudes of volumes in front of her. Feeling a little giddy with excitement, a small red book on the bottom shelf caught her eye. Unforgivable Potions. How can potions be unforgivable? she wondered, as she bent to pull the book from the shelf. Dusting off the back of the book, she realized that it was actually a guide on potion cures for unforgivable curses and other milder hexes and jinxes.
Hours later, she had finished learning the cocktail of potions used to cure, or at least alleviate symptoms of, hundreds of dark magic curses – everything from the Bat-Bogey Hex to the Cruciatus Curse. She finished the last page of the book just as the sun went down, glancing out the window and realizing that – naturally, she was in the dungeons – it was magically charmed to let in whatever sunlight was above ground. As she was faced with the spectacular view of absolutely nothing, her stomach grumbled, reminding her that it was dinnertime.
"Winky?" she whispered, hoping that the house elf would answer her. A small pop sounded before her, Winky appearing with her head bowed.
"Mister Snape, what can Winky do for you?" she asked, raising her head slightly. Her large eyes widened as she took in the girl before her. "But you is not Mister Snape? Miss Granger? What is you doing in Mister Snape's quarters?"
"Winky, I need you to trust me - and not ask questions. It is of the utmost importance that no one except you and Mister Snape know that I am here," Hermione urged.
"But of course, forgive Winky for questioning you, Miss Granger," Winky bowed slightly, "What can Winky fetch you?"
"Some leftovers from the Great Hall would more than suffice," Hermione replied gratefully. Just as Winky was about to pop away to do her bidding, she added – "Does Mister Snape usually not come back to his chambers at night?" It had to be at least 7 or 8 o'clock at night – his teaching obligations would have ended hours ago, Hermione wondered to herself.
Winky hesitated, before saying, "Mister Snape is a very busy man. He sometimes returns very late at night."
"Oh okay thank you, that will be all, Winky," Hermione quickly replied, not wanting to distress the house elf who was clearly devoted to keeping the secrets of those she served. Winky popped off, assuring Hermione that she would reappear in a moment.
Winky returned shortly with a sumptuous meal of various items from the Great Hall and Hermione found herself absolutely stuffed at the end of her dinner. Yawning to herself, she sat back on the window seat once more, thinking about the mission she had been sent on. She soon found herself falling into a food-lulled sleep as she comfortably reclined on Snape's soft pillows.
o-o-o-o-o
She awoke with a start, hearing noises outside the main door to Snape's chamber. She glanced at the ornate clock on the bookshelf – it read 1:30am. Who on earth is puttering around at this hour? she thought. I wonder if –
Her thoughts were interrupted by the door flying open, revealing the clearly injured form of Severus Snape. He staggered forward, his normally pale face having taken on an even more indescribable pallor. His dark robes seemed drenched in some sort of liquid, sticking to him thickly. As he collapsed onto the beige rug in front of him, red seeped into the wool and Hermione gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth in abject shock.
