Chapter 9: The End?

Severus opened his eyes and looked out into the cold, clinical abyss of the hospital wing. Even though this place, like the rest of the castle, was ruled by magic, it seemed dull and wholly normal. So Muggle. He closed his eyes. He regretted opening them. Ever. He wished he could take Hermione's time turner, go back to the time of his birth, and make sure he never opened his eyes. Never cried for the first time of many.

Now that he had awoken, he could feel the wounds, the pain and the pressure and the swelling of them, but he couldn't truly feel. He was numb. James had tried to kill him. Why didn't he succeed? Why wasn't Severus just a bloodless corpse out on the grounds?

And then he remembered. The very reason he was nearly murdered in the first place had carried him inside. Maybe the guilty harlot had begged him too and he did so begrudgingly. Or maybe, just maybe, he did it of his own will. But that was very unlikely. Bitterness enveloped him. A course hard shell wrapped his body. He pulled the blanket over himself, wincing as the bandages roughly moved over his cuts. The door at the end of the long room creaked open, and a beautiful girl with curly brown hair stepped into the room. Oh, she was so beautiful to Severus. But seeing her burned the bitterness further into his soul.

"How are you doing, Sev? Feeling alright?" She whispered to him, placing a cautious hand over his. He pulled his hand away.

"All in one day, I have learned that yet another love yes broken my heart and I am almost murdered. I am covered in bandages. So no, I am not feeling alright. Now leave." She looked down at him with sad eyes that made him melt a little, but then images of her kissing that stupid mutt, that stupid bully, popped into his head and he hissed at her to get out. She didn't hesitate again.

That's the voice he saves for James and Sirius, she thought to herself, rubbing her temples and slumping against the wall in a deserted corridor. A crack and a poof of smoke appeared next to her, and Dobby sat there, looking up at Hermione with huge green eyes.

"Dobby has bad news, Miss Granger." Hermione saw that he had a slightly torn piece of parchment clutched in his fist. She tried to take it from him, but he held it away. "Not until Miss Granger promises Dobby that she will not go to any drastic lengths." She promised and snatched the parchment.

'Dear Miss. Granger,

We regret to inform you that your time turner cannot be repaired. You must now live until you meet your true self in the future, if there is one. Then you must choose whether to kill yourself now, or kill your future self, lest the fabric of time itself rip.

We wish you luck in your quest to find a new time turner before your death.

Sincerely,

The Time Connoisseurs of the Ministry of Magic'

Hermione turned to Dobby, eyes wide in shock. "A-are they telling me that the only way out of this is to… kill myself?" Her mind couldn't comprehend the idea. There had to be another way out.

Dobby bowed low, his nose sweeping the stone. "No, miss. Dobby believes you must just find another time turner. Is Dobby correct?"

Hermione sighed. "Dobby, time turners are incredible hard to find, and although I require… That's it!" Hermione leapt up, light bulbs going off in her head "The Room of Requirement!" Hermione ran to where she knew the Room to be, and paced. And Paced.

Finally, a small door appeared which she swiftly entered. A pedestal in the middle of the room had a shiny, new time turner on it. But, all around the edges, were reminders of her time at Hogwarts. Moving photographs of her, Severus, Remus. She decided to use a spell she picked up from Severus, made a photo undetectable to all but one person, and sent it to hide itself. She held the time turner, its cool metal pleasant to her fingertips.

One turn, two turns…

The room spun and spun around her until she landed on the floor. The clock chimed noon.

Somewhere else in the castle, a grown Severus Snape snapped into consciousness. He felt something odd in the pocket of his robes, so he reached in carefully, and pulled out a picture of a curly haired girl laughing up in a tree, and his young self, laughing with her.