Hermione walked down the halls. She had forgotten how much she could miss these walls, the safety that they always offered. Even invisible, she was at risk here, though. She could bump into anyone, and she had no reason to be wandering around the halls in the early hours of the morning.

Just as she rounded the corner toward the Great Hall, wanting to see the enchanted ceiling again, she heard someone calling her name. She stopped and turned around, though she remained hidden for now. She saw Snape round the corner, staring down at the wand in the palm of his hand as it spun, stopping to point right at her. His eyes lifted to stare straight ahead, where he assumed she was.

Pocketing his wand, Snape lifted his hands placatingly and took a step away from her. Silently, she let the charm dissolve around her and she was visible once more, staring at Snape warily with her head held high.

"The Headmaster has changed his mind, as he always does when presented with a better plan," Snape said in a bored voice, rolling his eyes as he did so. Hermione felt her eyes grow wide as her jaw fell just a bit, but he seemed to notice her reaction and straightened up, turning stiff. "He has proposed my assistance in your endeavour and," he said, his face scrunching up in distaste, "he has offered you a room in my chambers until we can leave after the children, tomorrow. I will also have to report to him on a regular basis as to our whereabouts and doings."

Hermione weighted the offer and decided it was the best she was going to get any time soon. And really, Snape's help would be extremely beneficial, especially if he didn't have to worry about Death Eaters dropping by all the time. The war hadn't truly begun yet.

"Alright," she nodded, agreeing carefully. "That sounds acceptable enough." As she started toward the dungeons, Snape hurried to catch up with her, taking the lead and bringing her to a blank expanse of wall near the Slytherin common room. He pressed his hand to a certain brick and suddenly there was a door there, instead of a blank wall.

She followed him in and looked about the room, finding it oddly homey. It was plain and comfortable with a lived-in look to it. There were blankets strewn across the sofa, cups scattered around the room on almost every flat surface, and even a stray shirt wadded up on the floor by a door that she supposed lead to his bedroom.

She tried and failed to stifle a snort of laughter as she looked around, but he heard her and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Sorry. It's just, bachelor life's really treating you good, huh?" Then she started laughing in earnest, and Snape seemed to relax as he took in the state of the rooms.

"Yes, well," he grumbled, moving forward to pick up the mess around the room. Hermione just shook her head and grinned as she rummaged through her bag. She was escatic that it had come with her.

"Snape, do you mind if I use your shower? I haven't been in a proper house in about six or seven months." Snape looked her over critically but nodded, pointing toward a door. She nodded her thanks and walked in, nearly groaning in relief when she saw a large, clean shower and a real toilet, and a sink with clean, running water.

She stripped so quickly she thought she might injure herself and was under the gentle waterfall in moments, savoring the heat and the pressure and the normalness of it all. She let out another groan of pleasure when she used the soap to clean away the months of dirt that a scourgify just couldn't fully get rid of.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom a good 45 minutes later, she met Snape in the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow at her and asked, "And just what was so pleasureable in my bathroom that you had to groan like a... like a," he stuttered, not sure exactly how to insult her without insulting her too much.

She didn't even have the common decency to blush. She just shrugged, grinning wide, and padded over to the counter, riffling through his cupboards to find something substantial to eat. "Don't tell me that when you got back from Azkaban after the first War, that your first shower wasn't exhiliarating and devine. I won't believe you. And I've been living in a forest for months with two teenage boys, don't even talk to me about groaning in the shower."

Snape sputtered. Did the girl have no shame, no propriety?! When she turned to see his face, munching away happily on a bowl of dry cereal, she nearly choked from the look on his face. He seemed genuinely dumbstruck!

Moving past him, she patted his shoulder consolingly. "Don't worry, Snape. You'll get used to me eventually." With another light laugh, she left him and wandered into the living room, probably to start perusing his library.

He watched her leave the room in silence. What had happened to this girl that she was so very different from the little know-it-all in his potions classes? She was no longer eager to prove herself because, he assumed, she had already done that time and time again. She seemed extremely brave, unafraid, and ferocious, and he realized that she seemed far too old for her supposed years. How old was she, really?

He decided that five minutes was enough time to give her alone in his sitting room before he could safely follow her and not seem like he was actually following her. She had finished the cereal and had set the bowl aside. Instead, she was bent over his desk, a piece of parchment before her and her quill moving unbelievably fast.

"What are you writing?" he asked, cupping his coffee in his hands as he tried to read over her shoulder.

"A to-do list, of sorts. Do you happen to have any of Bellatrix Lestrange's hair around? No? Didn't think so."

She continued to scribble away until he finally blurted out, "Why?"

She grinned sheepishly and leaned back in the chair, tugging on a curly strand of hair. "We were planning to use Polyjuice to impersonate her to get into her vault. She had the Sword of Gryffindor at one point, and another relic that we needed to destroy. We'll just have to find some other way to get in there, what with her in Azkaban still." She paused, then frowned in deep concentration. "Though it might not even be there yet. I know it got moved there eventually, but from where, I'm not sure. Hmm, we'll have to do some research on that one...," she mumbled, trailing off as she shrugged it off and returned to her task.

She scribbled away again, and he settled himself down on the table beside her, hitching himself up so he could sit beside her comfortably. She raised a brow at his choice of chair but otherwise ignored him. He was close enough to see what she was writing, but still far enough away to be comfortable. He had a very large desk for many reasons, though, he had to admit, this had not been one when he had ordered it.

"How old are you, Miss Granger?" Snape asked easily, as if he were asking about the weather.

Hermione paused in her writing, but then picked back up quickly again. "I'm nineteen. I was one of the oldest in my year to begin with, but using a Time-Turner in my third year really tacked on a bit more time." She lifted her eyes to meet his for a moment, as if she were searching for something there, and then she shrugged and went back to work. "You can call me Hermione. From what you've told me of the Headmaster's plan, we'll be together for quite a bit of time from now on. Might as well use each other's names."

Snape tensed for a moment, frightened. He watched this witch at his desk, scribbling away facts about the future, and felt..., well he wasn't quite sure how he felt. There was fear, and uncertainty, but there was also an exhilaration, an excitement that they were finally going to be doing something productive, after such a long silence.

"So, we're still at war in your time. He returned?" He didn't have to explain who He was, and Hermione nodded stonily. Just then, something odd came to his mind. "You call him the Dark Lord. Why?"

Hermione's face twitched and an involuntary shiver raced down her spine. "Towards the end, there was a Taboo on his name. If you said it, you had maybe five minutes before the Snatchers arrived. We got caught once, Harry's brilliant plan to get to Malfoy Manner, the idiot. That's how I ended up here. When we were leaving, Bellatrix threw a spell at us just as we were Disapperated out of there. It hit me, and I started dissolving in this golden, spidery light. And then I woke up in the dungeons."

The scratch of the quill was the only noise for long minutes as he processed what she had told him. Finally, he said, "You were at Malfoy Manor at the mercy of Bellatrix Lestrange. Did she hurt you?"

He wasn't expecting the crazed, wounded bark of laughter that escaped her lips, and she hitched forward, wrapping her arms around her stomach as she tried to control her breathing and calm down. When she could breath regularly again, she nodded, grinning up at him wickedly.

"I didn't scream. She tried to make me scream for almost two hours, but I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. She used the Cruciatus on and off, took a knife to my arm," she said, trailing off as she tugged the sleeve back from her arm, where the word Mudblood was etched across her creamy skin. She tsked herself and mumbled, "Oh, it opened up again." Taking out her wand, she quickly and easily disinfected the wound and healed it up again, and he frowned at how easily she had done it. As he looked at her sunken, pale face, he wondered how many times she had played mediwitch to her little ragtag unit of friends over the years, especially the last year.

"You said you were under the Cruciatus? I have a potion to help with the afteraffects." He rose and came back quickly, handing her a bright blue potion. She didn't wait for him to say anything more as she downed the potion like a shot, drinking it all down in one large gulp.

She threw the vial down and spat out, "Gods, but that was disgusting. Thanks." She wiped her mouth and he watched her relax for the first time that evening, sinking back into the chair as she let the potion ease her sore muscles.

"I will need to finish my grading before we can leave tomorrow. I should be done by noon, and we can make arrangements then. Until that time, continue to work on your 'To-Do List', and I will let you be until I am finished."

Hermione was shaking her head, though. "No, it's fine, really. I know everything we need to do, but it's not like we'll do it all in one day. I can help with your grading." When he cast her a dubious look, Hermione scowled. "I helped Madame Pomfrey with Hospital Wing potions for two years, and I had the highest marks in your class until Slughorn took over, and that was only because Harry found your potions textbook in the cabinet."

Snape's eyes seemed to be bugging out of his head. "My potions textbook? What are you talking about?"

She leveled a strong, frightening look at him. "You're the Half-Blood Prince. The book's in the cabinet in the potions classroom. Harry hadn't known that he would qualify for the class until he got to school, and then it was too late to order one for the first day of classes. So Slughorn told him to use one of the old ones. It's probably in there, now. Go and see."

Snape looked furious as he stood and stomped out of the room, returning minutes later holding an old, tattered book. "How could you possibly know that that book was in there? The exact spot! Did you put it there?" he accused, waving the book in her face angrily.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Severus, really. I'm from the future, you dolt!" she said with a grin, wiggling her fingers in a mystical way. "Of course I knew where it was. I was there when Harry and Ron fought over who would not have to use it."

"Potter cheated with my book?" Snape growled.

Hermione sighed loudly. "Yes, we've already established that. But now you have the book, and he won't be able to. Calm down, Mr. Huff-and-Puff." Snape whirled to glare at her, until he realized he had been breathing incredibly hard. He calmed himself down and settled back on the desk. She smiled at him and nodded, leaning forward to pull the giant stack of final essays toward her, scanning them over quickly before letting out a very unladylike snort.

"Good Lord, I feel sorry for you, Severus! I forgot how terrible first year essays are." She divided the stack in half and dumped one half on Snape's lap before digging into her own with an amazing zeal, looking more alive than he had seen her, even while she had been throwing hex after hex at him.

They worked through the night, and Hermione finished her stack at nearly the same time Snape did. She smiled at him and glanced at the clock over the fireplace. "I'm going to get a few hours sleep before we leave. You probably should, too," she said, looking him up and down, noticing that he looked a bit peaky. "We don't have to leave for a while, yet." Without waiting for a response, she wandered away down the hallway and walked into the guest bedroom, closing and warding the door carefully.