A/N – hey guys it's been a while! I suddenly got muse for this and seeing as I'm gonna be writing my essay soon I thought I'd actually write something before, in case I have a meltdown and don't write for ages again. There are one or two cute moments in this chapter…but it's slightly rushed, and there's probably typos everywhere – so I'm sorry about that! I hope you like it anyway, and that you can forgive me for being so late with this! - Bex

It became very easy to hide from Severus Snape after that. Hermione busied herself with lesson plans and ways to escape the dreadfully dull year of 1987. There were ideas of spells and charms involving time turners or the book which had presumably sent her back in time. However that book was nowhere to be seen…did it even exist yet? How would she know it when she saw it? So many black books were manufactured…could she just pick any? Obviously not Hermione internally chastised herself before returning to her notes. He didn't bother her in her office…the defence office. It was like a strange dream unfolding before her eyes and she couldn't stop it. She'd only have a year before that job was over too in keeping with the curse, assuming the young witch wasn't killed off by then.

August seemed to dither away along with its sunny weather, and September brought greener leaves on the wimping willow, pre-autumn chills, and a new group of eleven year olds ready to be sorted and begin their seven year journey at Hogwarts. It was a strange feeling, watching the sorting from the high table. It was an out of body experience, being able to see the fear (and excited) stricken faces of children as they waited to be placed in their house. Hermione almost wished she'd placed bets on some of the sortings, as she knew most, if not all, and where they'd go. She almost forgot that Percy Weasley had been a child at some point, but she offered a small smile of support when he reached the hat, as she did to Penelope Clearwater and Oliver Wood, the last to be sorted.

Being sat on the high table she wasn't met with looks of suspicion from her colleagues or most of the students, with the exception of a few older students trying to work out where she'd came from. She was wedged between Professor Sprout and Hooch, both chatting away at each ear.

"Well Helena how did you find your first sorting?" Pomona whispered, before tucking into some of the broccoli on her plate,

"Oh it was fascinating Pro-Pomona. It makes me wonder where I'd have been sorted if I'd have been given the chance." Hermione replied, though her mind was elsewhere – particularly 1999 and what would be happening there. Would her friends be looking for her? Unless she was already back, or had never truly left…time really was confusing, and her entire dilemma brought on an unnecessary headache. She cast her eyes along the table towards Professor Snape, or Severus as she most likely had to call him. Or did she? He probably wouldn't like being on a first name basis with her….not that she cared what he liked. Hermione remembered all the abuse he'd thrown at her from 'insufferable know it all' right down to insulting the size of her teeth! Hermione's eyes narrowed briefly, before remembering the burdens the potions master faced…and all he would do for the young witch and her friends, particularly Harry. He was a mean, sour, and bitter man, but clearly he cared enough about just one woman to do all the things he did. It showed Hermione that Severus Snape was capable of caring…in his own way.

"Well Helena, what say you hm?!" Rolanda asked, grabbing her shoulder and lifting Hermione out of her reverie. The young witch looked back at the two with confusion, managing to mumble an apology before her colleague spoke again,

"Well old Sprout here thinks you'd be a hufflepuff, but I'm certain you're a ravenclaw…what do you think?!" She asked, the two women looking at the youngest witch on the high table. She answered without hesitation, her mind eager to leave the conversation,

"Most certainly Gryffindor….without a shadow of a doubt. " She smiled before tucking into her meal once more.

After that things had ran rather smoothly, she had been introduced at the feast as the new defence against the dark arts. Instead of giving a speech Hermione just stood and smiled, not willing to give anyone more memories of her than what was necessary. Would Bill, Percy and Oliver remember their defence professor in years to come, did they remember for a fraction of a second each time they saw her? Hermione wouldn't know…and she'd never ask either. If she ever returned that was.

For a while, Hermione thought she'd been dealing with the idea of time travel rather well, and hadn't faced the idea she could be stuck in 1987 forever…until the first day of classes. Despite offers from Minerva and other staff members, Hermione had assured them she'd find her own way around the castle, and decided to take a stroll before first classes begun. The young witch greeted the corridors like an old friend, certain that it would recognise her…or perhaps be kinder to her when she returned as a first year in a few years time herself. She knew the nooks and crannies of the old building all too well, from the hidden corridors, to alcoves behind tapestry. They were usually where students met for a quick snog before being caught…usually by Snape. Not that she'd know firsthand, she'd never had a school relationship, not counting what she had with Viktor of course.

Turning the corner Hermione collided with a student she didn't recognise; their books scattered across the floor.

"Oh I'm so sorry, let me get those!" Hermione began, not fully acknowledging who she was talking to. As she gathered their things she heard a voice she knew all too well.

"It's no trouble professor…you looking forward to your first day? I'm N-"

"Nymphadora Tonks, of course…the headmaster told me we had a metamorphmagus in our midsts. Pleasure to meet you." Hermione smiled weakly, as the girl transfigured to her true appearance, causing the professor's heart to stop for only a second…finding herself looking back at a dead woman. Ten years…that's all she had.

"Ah, the Professor warned you did he! Not to worry professor, I'll be no trouble in defence – it's one of my favourites!" the young girl grinned, though Hermione was absolutely certain the former was a lie. There was a reason she wouldn't make prefect status in her fifth year.

"Quite right too, I look forward to having you Miss Tonks." The girl scrunched her face up at that remark,

"Just Tonks professor, please! Anyway I'll be off…breakfast starts soon. The earlier you get there the better!" Tonks laughed before leaving for her food.

Tears sprung to Hermione's eyes, reality had struck a hard blow. It would be impossible to look the girl in the eyes without remembering how cold and empty they were as she lay next to Remus. Or how she would never really have the chance to be a mother, because the war had robbed her of that too. Would Teddy look like her? Would he be just as mischievous as she was? The more the young witch thought about it the harder the tears fell. Somehow her wandering had taken her to the tapestry corridor, too far from her own office, but quite close to Snape's Storeroom. At this point she didn't care where she went, as long as no one saw. A professor crying on their first day on the job, it would most probably go down in history. She didn't want the potions master to jeer at her…but at the moment in time she didn't give a damn….she wanted to mourn her lost friend, the one she'd have to face until she left.

Closing the door behind her, Hermione sagged against it and down to the floor. Nothing there to comfort her but the familiar smell of potion ingredients and the age of such an old small room the small woman began to sob. "Bloody war!" She groaned between cries, the list of the dead piling up…and the injured too. How strange it was to see Bill without his scar, and so many purebloods who would choose the wrong side – or muggle-borns that were soon to be hunted. Looking up Hermione was met with a figure donned in black towering over her. She stood up quickly, trying to hide her tears. But of course he died in such a cruel way, it was so painful – and for all his faults Severus didn't deserve it. "Miss Groves what-" but she cut him off, crying against his chest just for a moment. She couldn't tell him she was crying over him, but it gave Hermione comfort to be against him, to apologise without words for not getting to him sooner. Not a second later the defence professor stepped back, half mumbling an apology for invading his personal space.

"Miss Groves if you are unfit to take this position I think you will find you have left it far too late to res-"

"No no…it's not that. I erm saw someone…someone I wasn't expecting to see. I forgot she..I'm babbling forgive me. I'm fine now, thank you." And she turned to leave hoping to never mention what took place again, but it seemed Severus had other ideas as he placed his hands on her robes.

"Who?" He asked, before crossing his arms, awaiting an answer.

"I'm not sure I should say…"

"Miss Groves who?!"

"Oh alright it was Tonks…ah Miss Tonks. She's what thirteen? Fourteen? I just didn't expect her to look so young." Hermione began, her face falling into a frown as she choked back yet another sob. Severus seemed unsure of what to do with himself, clearly unable to console the young woman.

"I assume she did not make it?" Hermione merely nodded.

"I'm….sorry to hear of this. Miss Tonks is more than acceptable in her potions." He said, Hermione looking up at that. She was shocked to even hear this from him. Severus Snape did not compliment anyone not of his own house. She clearly hadn't been such a thorn in his side thus far, or he genuinely was sorry.

"She's going to make a brilliant auror….oh merlin! I've said too much again I'm sorry." Hermione half laughed between sniffles. Severus offered her a handkerchief before adding,

"Think nothing of it. Now if you'll excuse me I require my potions if I'm to prepare for my first class…something you may want to consider also. Good day Miss Groves." He picked up his ingredients and made to leave.

"Professor Snape…Helena, please."

"Miss- Helena." And he left.

Hermione thought it strange…he didn't shout for her being in his storeroom, tell her how silly she was for being emotional over something that hadn't even happened yet….he wasn't quite understanding but in fact patient. A word Hermione never thought she'd use to describe her old professor. She didn't expect him to pull her into a warm embrace…in fact that would've been quite awkward, but he didn't push her away, or hold her….he just let Hermione cry against his chest for the few moments she needed to. Strange. Perhaps he didn't hate the young woman like she initially thought, he may have held a grudge for her literally walking into a job he'd wanted for quite some time, but otherwise he could be – decent when he wanted to be. The thoughts felt foreign in her mind, she had defended him in the past, but was Hermione really complimenting Severus Snape? She shook her head in disbelief before leaving the room and heading to her first class.

"Hello fourth years! Welcome to the start of your defence lessons – I hope you enjoy them but more than anything that you learn something. This year we're going to cover curses, spells and a few more dark creatures than last year, those being revision more than anything else I hope. Does any of this sound vaguely familiar to what you did last year?" Hermione asked, smiling brightly at her students…only a few years younger than herself. She looked over Tonks and Charlie Weasley, who were nodding , along with the rest of her pupils, but with a sense of uncertainty.

"If not then you needn't worry, if you ever have any questions about anything then I'll point you in the right direction of a book, or we can speak more about it at another time."

A hand shot up, a face she vaguely recognised…perhaps there was a reason she wasn't too familiar with the boy.

"How old are you professor?" Hermione found herself rolling her eyes, it was only a matter of time before someone had asked and it was far better to out the elephant in the room early on.

"Not that it's any of your business Mister…Jenkins, but old enough to teach you and the rest of the students here to a high standard. Will that suffice?" She asked, trying to muster up her best Umbridge stern smile. Hermione wasn't sure what that would achieve, but she didn't wish to go over the subject again, after being nitpicked by Severus only a few weeks before.

"Yes professor."

"Good, now I suggest we get on!" She smiled, before guiding the students to the correct page and introducing the new creatures they were going to learn about such as Erklings and Dug Bogs. Her class seemed somewhat receptive, though Tonks was insistent on morphing her face into whatever creature she saw in their book, causing a dismissive look from Hermione…trying not to laugh, and it seemed threatening to take points didn't stop her. Nonetheless the new defence against the dark arts professor was in full swing and actually enjoying her class until a ball of paper came flying in her direction. Of course a simple non verbal wave of her hand and the ball went veering off to the right, but it stopped the professor, and her class, in their tracks.

"Mr Jenkins it seems you either have terrible aim or wish to be in detention for the rest of the term. Which one is it?" Hermione asked, shocking herself at how Snape like she sounded. Perhaps she was being too harsh on him…but then she'd seen the guilty look on his face as the paper took off.

"The first one Professor honestly I was aiming f-"

"You shouldn't be aiming for anyone Mr Jenkins. Fifteen points from Gryffindor, and next time it'll be a detention with Filch. Are we understood?" The boy nodded silently, and Hermione continued on with her class, thankful to get it out of the way.

Once the day was over Hermione sagged into her chair, thankful to have some time to herself. She didn't want to be a scary professor, she wanted to help people. She didn't know whether to be the best teacher…or the worst. She'd never spoken to anyone who'd been at Hogwarts about their defence teacher Miss Groves…if they had; well it would've been helpful. She'd taken some points, not many…but a few. The most were taken, unfortunately, from her own house. However she'd given just as many as she'd taken to all houses she'd taught, believing in nothing but equality – and the students deserved it.

On the high table for their evening meal Hermione found herself seated next to Severus, most likely due to being so late. Not that she minded of course, in fact she was happy to sit there so she could speak with him,

"Professor Snape I just wanted to say thank you for," she stopped as she saw him cast muffliato, forgetting it was his own creation she smiled before continuing,

"Oh right, well I'd just like to say thank you I didn't mean to use your rooms they were just there…"

"It is of no issue Miss Groves, please see to it that it does not become a habit." He replied promptly.

"It's Helena, and I actually had something to ah…ask of you." He merely raised his eyebrows suggesting that she continue. Hermione looked around before she began, just to be certain that no one, except the Headmaster no doubt, could listen in on their conversation,

"Well I don't know how long I'm going to be here…but I think we'd all prefer it to be once the school year it out. But I...my knowledge only goes so far. I could of course ask the Headmaster for his help but I thought, with your potion abilities and well…your knowledge on a lot of things really – you could help me with this project? If you have time of course I don't want to impose" He held his hand up to stop her speaking, as he began to consider her offer.

"I shall consider it…Helena. I would like to see your notes and how you think you can bring potions into this predicament. We've been silent for far too long to the ears of everyone else; do not speak of it any longer." Severus instructed before releasing the charm and speaking of something rather more plain and uninteresting than before,

"It has come to my attention that you have docked almost forty points from the Gryffindor house today Professor Groves, I had no idea you came to Hogwarts with the intention of giving Minerva a stroke." He noted, pushing his food around his plate,

"And I gave twenty back. I'm fair Severus, the students get what they deserve…I do not favour any house. You needn't worry; if your slytherins misbehave they'll get the same treatment." She replied half laughing, the use of his name almost going unnoticed by the two of them. Before Hermione had chance to apologise Pomona piped up a few seats down,

"You see, that is the nature of a true hufflepuff Helena! I'm certain you'd have been in my house." She chortled, waving her fork around as she spoke, but Severus could only roll his eyes.

"Incorrect Pomona. It would seem Helena is most definitely a Gryffindor." He stated as if it was obvious…though Hermione couldn't remember telling him. It was clear that the young witch was a lion through and through, and apparently Severus Snape didn't mind that much.