Previously: "And those who have died in the war in your time… Will you vow to not willingly tell them of their impending deaths?"
Ah, there it was. Hesitation. To her credit, Hermione didn't look at Severus. Her grip tightened as she drew in a trembling breath.
"I will."
Chapter Three: Rue
20 June 1987
Entertain our guest. Merlin. It was going to be a long year.
Severus stalked down the corridor, his long strides forcing Granger to almost jog in order to keep up. Why had she come here? No one could dive into the past without being tempted to change something—save someone, buy a winning Muggle lottery ticket, convince their past self to avoid ever getting involved with someone who referred to all of their exes as "crazy."
Granger had to want something. Albus hadn't bloody sent her here, and Severus refused to believe she'd not intended to end up in this time, at this place.
Well, perhaps the precise location of her arrival had been an accident.
It was a shame Albus had included that final clause in the Vow, though he had specified willingly. Granger could survive unwillingly handing over whatever information could be forced from her. Apparently Severus would have plenty of time to attempt to lower her guard, as he was tasked with being her babysitter.
He wondered how he would die. Would it be quick? A messy, protracted affair that would make him beg for it in the end? The way she'd looked at him—all breathless disbelief—had made it plain that he would not survive the coming war. Not that he'd ever expected to meet any other fate after he'd switched sides.
Unless he was mistaken, Granger mourned him. He could use that.
Reaching into her pocket, Granger drew her wand. Bracing himself to counter an attack proved unnecessary. The spell she cast was benign. It was also one of his.
"Muffliato," she said. And then she started spewing her thoughts at Severus as if the two of them were confidants. Maybe they would become friends at some point between his time and hers, but he doubted it. "I wish I knew what Dumbledore was thinking, if it was actually him who brought me here. It's so dangerous. What could possibly be worth the risk? He's always plotting something, isn't he?" Her eyes narrowed as her voice turned mocking. "Oh, a woman from the future. Why don't I make her a professor? Though I suppose it makes more sense than some of his other appointments."
Severus couldn't argue with that last bit. He made a noncommittal noise.
"Why, exactly, did you land in my quarters?" he asked.
"Err, well. They're my quarters in the future. I teach Potions."
Severus looked down his nose at her. "Do you indeed?"
Granger opened her mouth to answer, but a blur of black robes and bubblegum pink hair made her pause. Miss Tonks skidded towards them on stocking feet—where were the child's shoes?—and toppled to one side. Slashing his wand through the air, Severus cancelled Granger's spell.
"Five points from Hufflepuff for running in the halls and being out of uniform, Miss Tonks," he said.
"Sorry, Professor." Miss Tonks righted herself. Catching sight of Granger, she put on that curious expression of hers that always meant danger in the Potions classroom. Knowing the girl as he did, Severus suspected she was milliseconds away from impertinent questions about Granger's presence.
"This is Miss Hughes," he said. "She'll be your Defence Against the Dark Arts professor next year."
Miss Tonks brightened. "Really?"
Having met the dunderhead currently teaching Defence, Severus could well understand her enthusiasm for the change. While Miss Tonks peppered Granger with questions, Severus studied the latter's reactions. She wasn't bad. If he hadn't heard the crack in her voice in the Headmaster's office, he might not suspect that, like him, Miss Tonks was going to stumble her way into death sometime during the second war. Severus kept his face cemented into a neutral expression even as his stomach sank.
After Miss Tonks finally wandered off down the corridor at a more sensible pace, Granger renewed the Muffliato.
"You know how I said up in the Headmaster's office that I had a good teacher?" she said, closing her eyes like she couldn't bear to watch Miss Tonks vanish around the corner. "That was her."
Severus shook his head as if to clear it. "Miss Tonks taught you Occlumency?"
"In my sixth year, yeah. She becomes an Auror."
No wonder death was poised to take her, then. But if Miss Tonks was to become an Auror, she would need… Oh. Oh, no. Severus groaned.
"I am to endure her spilling ingredients and upending cauldrons all the way up to NEWT level?" he asked.
"Afraid so." Granger's smile was bittersweet and nostalgic. "And then she'll join the Order, so you'll have to put up with her knocking things over at Headquarters as well."
"Of course I will." He rolled his eyes and heaved a put-upon sigh. "I was never officially inducted into the Order, you know. You could perform a mercy killing without violating the terms of your Vow."
Severus spread his arms wide as if to welcome the Avada. Granger must have left her sense of humour behind in the future. With the sort of long-suffering look often sent his way by Narcissa and Charity, she dissolved the Muffliato and sped ahead towards the exit. Severus was right behind her as they reached that day's entertainment: the final Quidditch match of the year.
Up in the stands, Albus beckoned Severus and the interloper towards the two seats next to him. Severus relished the warmth of the summer sun on his back as they ascended the steps. The temperature in the dungeons was the same year round: cold. The sort of bone-deep, damp cold that was impossible to fully chase away with Warming Charms and layers of clothing. Moments above ground when the sun was out were to be savoured.
The higher they climbed, the more careful Granger's movements became. She kept her gaze straight ahead, refusing to look over the railing, which she gripped tight in her shaky hand. A sensible enough fear, he supposed. Severus had always loved being up high, able to see anything and anyone that approached. It helped that he could catch himself without the aid of a broom if he fell. Obviously Granger did not possess such a skill.
Once Severus and Granger got settled in their seats, Albus introduced her as Heather Hughes to a few nearby members of staff. Granger's easy smile was ever so slightly slower to appear upon the introduction of Quirrell. Interesting.
"I just realised I don't even know who's playing," Granger said.
"Slytherin and Gryffindor," Severus said. "Which team will you support?"
"Hmm. I think I should wait to declare any sort of House allegiance until I work out which is the better team."
"A sensible plan." Albus nodded. "Oh, by the way, Heather, I took the liberty of owling a former student who has been looking for a lodger. She'll be happy to have you let her spare room for the summer. She's Severus's neighbour, so he'll be right next door."
Severus had known the identity of the former student before Albus announced that "Heather" and Severus would be living in close proximity. Naturally. At least Albus was ensuring she was watched.
Severus was, however, dubious about Granger's willingness to live in the dodgiest part of Cokeworth. The two-up two-down houses on Spinner's End had yet to be dragged out of industrial decline. The whole neighbourhood was a squalid hole of litter and lead paint, fit to be inhabited only by rats.
Severus should have left it behind years ago. He could afford to do so, now. There were plenty of other houses with telephones—houses without ancient plumbing and rising damp. He didn't need to remain shackled to that one, just in case. And if Mum got really desperate, she could overcome the habits of half a lifetime and use a bloody owl.
Except she wouldn't. So, there he stayed.
"We'll be living next door to each other all summer?" Granger asked. "Guess that's my choice made for me, then. I'd rather have a peaceful life."
A swirl of her wand made a giant, animated snake head appear atop her glamoured hair. Hissing, the snake snapped its fangs. Severus blinked.
"A friend of mine used to do this to show which House she was supporting," Granger said with a grin. "She was the best Quidditch commentator."
"Oh, don't tell me you're a Slytherin," an all-too familiar Irish accent cut in. "You'll break my heart, love."
Aidan Lynch climbed over Quirrell to flash what he probably thought was a charming smile at Granger. Prat. Severus watched Granger carefully, trying to make it seem as if he didn't glance her way at all.
"I went to school in America, so no," she said with a shrug. "But one of the bravest people I've ever known was in Slytherin."
Albus had mentioned that Granger was friends with Harry Potter. Lily's son couldn't end up in Slytherin, could he? It would almost be worth the headache of protecting the boy from the children of Death Eaters if that happened. James Potter's reaction to his son being a Slytherin would have been priceless. Severus might actually end up liking the boy, against all odds. Albus looked at Granger with that damnable twinkle.
Laughing, Lynch crossed his arms. "The Slytherin in question must have conned you, then."
"And you are?" Granger asked, her voice cold.
"This is Aidan Lynch, our current Defence professor," Albus said.
"Nice to meet you." Granger dismissed Lynch by angling her body towards Severus. With a huff of disbelieving laughter, Lynch clambered back over Quirrell. Granger waited for him to take his seat again before she whispered to Severus, "I'm amazed he lasted the full year."
Why was she trying to ingratiate herself to him with all of this pro-Slytherin, anti-Aidan Lynch talk? She hadn't been a Slytherin herself. Of that much, Severus was certain. Ravenclaw, maybe, or Hufflepuff. A Gryffindor would choke on the words if they ever tried to praise his House.
"As am I," Severus murmured back. "He's a Quidditch player, not a defence expert."
"Really?"
"That's why he's leaving. He received an offer to play for the Irish national team."
"Ah." Granger's lips parted as if she'd just remembered something, but all she said was, "He reminds me of a Quidditch player I once knew. What were his lessons like, do you know? Did he teach the students to defend themselves against Bludgers?"
Severus scoffed. "He certainly isn't qualified to teach them defence against anything else."
"That's disappointing. These kids need to learn how to defend themselves against far more than Quidditch equipment." There was that sinking sensation again. "I'm going to do better than my own Defence professors. All but two were abysmal. I have to do better." Frowning, Granger turned her attention towards the pitch, where the students were getting into position. A second later, she recast Muffliato, grabbed Severus's arm, and said, "We should bet Lynch that Slytherin wins the House Cup this year."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Do you happen to have insider information that led to this sudden flash of inspiration?"
"Of course I do, but Slytherin are in the lead, aren't they?"
"By over a hundred points, yes."
"There you go. You know what Muggles say about a fool and his money soon being parted. With that much of a lead, he'd be a fool to take the bet."
"Quite." Severus studied her face. Her rent would be cheap enough, but she would need some funds. She hadn't arrived with much on her person apart from that book. "How will Slytherin fare next year? Should we convince Lynch to make it double or nothing when the time comes?"
Granger grinned. "I couldn't possibly say." The sight of Sybill's garish yellow and violet robes a few rows ahead of them made that grin turn less smug and more devilish. "I just had another flash of inspiration. How unethical would it be if I tried to convince Trelawney that I'm a Seer?"
Severus did not laugh. She clearly wanted him to do so.
What else did she want from him?
Notes: I think it's safe to assume that all of my chapters are altered quite a bit after Vitellia sends me her corrections. I cannot resist rearranging and rewording things right up until the second before I post. So, any and all errors are my fault. Thank you again for all of the reviews, follows, and favourites. xx