Consequences of Meddling With Time
Disclaimer: Not mine. I just borrowed them for a while. I promise to put them back when I'm done. Oh, nope, no money either—just for fun.
Many thanks to my betas, EverMystique and DuchessOfArcadia, for helping me clean up my many mistakes, and to Pookah for the shoulder and friendly advice. I really appreciate it more than you can possibly know. I'd be ashamed to show my story to anyone without your invaluable help.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~((11))~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione scowled at the book and dropped her quill on her Potions essay.
She had stood by his side to watch as he had sifted the bicorn horn into the cauldron, careful to get the powder in the center of the potion so that it would all blend in and had counted off his rotations silently in her head. She'd noticed that he'd made precise, smooth, even strokes, slightly inward at the end of each rotation so the bicorn horn powder hadn't escaped to the sides of the potion and gotten stuck to the cauldron. At twenty-three strokes the powder had been already mixed in, but he made another seventeen after that as well. "How do you know what those subtle little differences are from what the book tells you?" she'd asked when he'd set the stirring rod down and lowered the flame.
"I dunno, an intrinsic feel for it. I know how things normally react and know what to expect. I experiment and try different things and make notes as to what works," he'd said with a shrug. "I've always been good at Potions, and since I know how ingredients interact with each other, I suppose certain things come naturally to me."
Hermione knew it was more than that, Severus rarely brewed a potion without changing something in the directions, and it usually came out perfectly. In the whole time she'd known him, he'd only had two potions fail, one miserably in an eruption and another that produced nauseous fumes. And, he could brew more than one potion at a time as well.
Within the first few days in the classroom, she'd finished her essays for Muggle Studies and Care of Magical Creatures, Magical Arts and Literature, her Arithmancy equations, and she'd completed all her pages of translations for Ancient Runes, rechecking her translations several times to be sure she had every one of them right. Hermione had plenty of material for her Care of Magical Creatures, knew all about Muggle money: the pound sterling, foreign currencies, credit cards, banks… She had even added information about traveler's checks and money orders. Even her Arithmancy essay had been easy enough, since Severus knew which books she needed.
Severus had teased her about stroking her 'pet book' when she'd tried to coerce her Monster Book of Monsters to lie quietly on the table so she could read it. Hermione had simply scrunched her face at him and ignored him for a while; then she had allowed her book to scramble away unimpeded off the table, smirking silently when he stomped his foot on it when it tried to bite his ankle. Unfortunately, he'd left annoyed with her, and his absence had felt like an oppressive weight. When he'd returned at lunch carrying roast beef and rolls, she had never been happier to see anyone.
Nevertheless, her Muggle Studies and Care of Magical Creatures essays were the easy ones to write. But her Potions essay was just not up to her usual standard, and she knew that Professor Snape would berate her for substandard effort if she handed in what she had. Not only that, but she still had nine inches of her Charms yet to do. Hermione desperately wanted to go to the library and do her own research.
"I can't let you go wandering about the library, you'll be seen," he stated adamantly in a bored tone, not bothering to look up from his own book.
"You can Disillusion me," she persisted. "You manage that well enough when you let me shower."
"And have books just randomly floating in the air with their pages flipping?" he sneered. "Are you daft? You're not a ghost, and it will be to conspicuous if you're reading through books, invisible!"
"Books float about in the library all the time," she said, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.
"From the book trolley to the shelves!" he stated, shifting in his seat and lowering his nose over his book to avoid watching her petulant fit. "Not randomly falling from the shelves to hover between the stacks and flipping pages."
Hermione wasn't going to give up. It was a brilliant idea and a perfect solution, after all. "What if you were with me, anyone who does look will think the books I search through will be yours."
"I don't float books in the air beside me," he stated, tipping the book up to block his face from her view. "Besides, I can bring you any book you need."
"But I don't know which ones I need," she huffed at him. "That's the problem!" She couldn't understand why he was being so difficult. It wasn't like she wanted to go for a stroll; she needed more references.
"Let me see what you have so far," he said, holding out his hand.
Hermione gave him her Potions essay. Severus read it, his brow scrunched, then his eyebrow rose, and he glanced up at her in surprise, then frowned.
"What? Is it that bad? Am I wrong? The potions use the same ingredients. Maybe I should have chosen the Ocularius Restorative Potion? Oh, I knew that using Zorbet's theory compared to Newt's to be a long shot, but the use of the ingredients are the same. Stobeck's Hopefulness Potion and Horner's article on forgetfulness—"
"Pipe down and let me read this thing," he cut her off, his eyes narrowing.
Hermione clamped her mouth shut, watching him with rapt attention to every miniscule reaction or expression to determine if he liked her essay. Finally, he set down the paper. "Merlin, you have enough theories and comparatives to write a bloody book."
"But I…"
"You're all over the place. You don't substantiate any of it; you just quote the books and jump from one idea to the next." He handed her essay back to her. She felt her heart sink in her chest. "You need to fully explore what you have and summarize what you are presenting."
She looked at him, her brows pulled together making deep creases between them. "I have."
"Have not. You quote all the books, but I don't know what you think about them. You haven't extrapolated at all. You give no opinions, theories, or speculations."
Hermione's face relaxed as she sat back in her chair and considered what he was saying. "My opinions. Extrapolate… but I do."
"Hardly. You've quoted so much stuff in there, it's like reading the books," he said, pointing at the parchment.
She worried her thumb as she considered what he was saying.
"Look, I can bring you the books for the stuff you've quoted, but you should really just rewrite this and add in your own thoughts and impressions. Explain why you are comparing these theories and reactions rather than just quote others… But hey, it's your essay. Do what you want." He stood up to go as Hermione read over her essay. "I bet you do that on all your essays—quote every reference in the library and compare one expert opinion after another, don't you?"
"No!" she exclaimed, even though that's generally what she usually did.
"Thought so. I don't get it, when we talk about this stuff, you're really smart, you understand so much," he said as he headed for the door. "That's how you should write."
Even though she was hurt by what he'd said about her essay, she mulled over what he'd said. Surely, Professor Snape must think the same thing about her essays, since technically Severus was him—only younger. No matter how hard she tried in his class, she never could get his approval or even a 'well done,' just scathing marks of adequacy. It was so hurtful that he was so harsh towards her—well, with everyone, actually. She picked up her quill and started making marks on her essay, places where she could give her reasoning between the comparisons, noting where she could explain, or put in her theory in using the quotes. By the time she was half-way through her essay, it was a mess. Pulling out another roll of parchment, Hermione started rewriting.
~~~~~~~~~((8))~~~~~~~~~~
They had been up hours talking, telling humorous stories of their first magical accidental mishaps. "Oh the usual, I suppose," she said. "I lifted my father's car once to get my ball when it was stuck, or I'd summon my ball to me, especially if it rolled into the street. Oh, and I used to pull helium balloons down to me in the park when I saw them. I could make leaves twirl and dance, and I could light candles. I levitated or summoned things from shelves I couldn't reach, and in the kitchen. I found I could fix things I'd dropped while doing the dishes: cups, plates, and I fixed a figurine once when I broke the leg off. I was so scared of being punished or scolded that I'd hold the pieces together and wish them together really hard. I had no idea it was magic—I just thought my wishes came true." She laughed and blushed. "Reparo was the first spell I managed to do well with a wand."
"That shows a great deal of control," Severus replied, his feet resting on the table. "I was always scolded severely for doing magic at home; although, Mum would sneak me into the kitchen when Dad left the house, and we'd practice simple things. She also taught me a lot of dueling spells. I was a scrawny kid, not that I've filled out much, but she wanted me to be able to defend myself. I used to read loads of books on defensive spells and such, especially hexes, jinxes, curses… I didn't want to be picked on at Hogwarts like I was at primary school."
Hermione bit her lip and regarded him thoughtfully. "So you must have known loads of curses and such coming to school. I mean, if you read as much then as you do now, you must have known a lot."
Severus chuckled. "I was very well versed, mostly in curse theory and had loads of them memorized. I impressed my house prefect, Malfoy, with how much I knew. Rumors spread that I knew as much as a seventh-year. I think he and his friends started the rumors. It wasn't true, but the rumor made other kids think twice before taking me on—well, most of the other students. I admit that I've read every book on curses in the library, just in case… Sometimes the bullies will accost you just to see if the rumors are true or not." Severus looked at the timer and dropped his feet to the floor. "Blimey, is that the time? I have to go!" He shoved his parchments into his bag. "Do you need anything?" he asked as he stood, crossing his finger that she'd say…
"No, I'm fine. I would've liked a shower tonight, but…"
"No, it's all right," he said, heading for the door. "Can you shower quickly?"
"Yes, I think so," she replied, hurrying to get her shower things and a change of robes.
"Stay close so I don't have to look for you," he said as he Disillusioned her and led the way. The common room was empty and the bathroom was dark. He lit one of the wall sconces and took his seat on the bench, thankful that he didn't have to close his eyes while she undressed. It was easier this way, keeping her invisible as she dumped her clothes on the bench next to him. He canceled the charm on the clothes as she entered the shower stall. "How did you learn to control your magic at such a young age?" he asked.
"I dunno," her voice, though soft, seemed to echo off the walls. The intermittent heavier sounds of the water meant she was washing her hair. "My early bursts of magic scared me and my parents. They're dentists and scientific people, and they figured that I had telekinetic abilities. So moving things, summoning, repelling, making things fly… stuff like that was easily understood. Little fires they attributed to pyrokinesis. Shattering glass – well… They worked with me on controlling my anger and my abilities. Do you know what I mean by telekinetic and pyrokinesis?"
Severus smirked as he kicked back, leaning against the wall on the bench until she was though. "Yeah, I know what they are." Hermione really impressed him. She had shown huge potential as a child. She'd had quite a bit of control of her magic, it seemed, but then her parents had rationalized out her abilities with fairly open minds. "I'm surprised that the Ministry didn't come around much to fix things or augment anyone's memory?"
The water continued to splash as Hermione washed herself. "There was an odd woman that I thought lived down the street who used to come over frequently, but my parents always had their own excuses for my mishaps and strange happenings, so she usually left… Come to think about it, she always showed up after I'd done something odd."
He laughed. "Sounds like a Ministry official. Checking things out and realizing your parents had things in hand, I suppose. What else did you do?"
"Oh, once I accidently unlocked the monkey cages at the circus! I thought that they looked so sad, and I wanted to give one my frozen banana. Dad grabbed my arm and pulled me away when the monkeys started to escape. I was six, I think. And once I got stuck on the roof. I was standing in the front garden when my cousin pulled my hair. I used to hate it when he did that, so I'd try to outrun him, only he'd catch me anyway. Well, one day I remember turning, and the next thing I knew I was on the roof. Dad called the fire department to get me down. I was clinging to the aerial."
Severus sat up in shock. "Blimey, you Apparated? How old were you?"
The water turned off. "I was nearly seven, I think? It was the end of the summer when his family came down to visit. What about you?"
He smirked at the sight of two towels, one obviously wrapped around her body and another on her head, which appeared as if floating into the room. He quickly Disillusioned the towels. "I mostly broke stuff when I had accidental bursts of magic. Mum would repair it so my dad wouldn't know. I made a tree branch fall on a girl who used to sneer at me all the time, threw a dog across the street that tried to chase me, that kind of thing. I could make bullies who chased me trip and hurt themselves to get away. But most of my magic was done with my mum." He stood and collected her things. "I'll leave your old robes on my bed with mine. That way they'll get cleaned."
"Will I get mine back?" she asked as the sleeves of Avery's robes seemed to fold themselves up.
"Yeah, I'll see to it," he stated, opening the door for her. "C'mon, I want to get to bed." He removed the charm off her in the doorway of the classroom and closed the door before turning to go.
Severus set the timer on his Muggle clock to wake him at four in the morning and shoved it under his pillow so that the sound of the alarm wouldn't wake his dorm mates. A trick he'd learned at home, so as not to wake his dad. The next step of the potion needed to be added at dawn, and that left him plenty of time to finish his essay before his classes. He'd hoped that the potion would be done before the weekend. The Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff game was this weekend, not that he really cared about this one; Slytherin was going to wallop Hufflepuff, even with three of their players in the hospital wing and using alternates. Still, he'd been asked to brew the Sprain, Bruise, and Muscle-Ache potions for Slughorn because his were so much better than the professor's, not that he'd tell him why.
In the morning, he got dressed and slipped from the room easily enough.
Hermione was sound asleep when he entered the classroom. Not that he'd expected her to be up. He tended to his potion and finished his essay, hoping that she would wake before he had to leave for breakfast. He walked over to check on her again. She wasn't like the girls he knew; she trusted him, forgave him easily, and laughed at his jokes. None of the girls in his house would have been this comfortable sleeping in a room he had compete access to, and he was certain that none of them would have fallen asleep in such a situation without placing an alarm charm to warn them of his intrusion.
He crossed his arms, amazed at the trust she had given him. From the first time he'd met her, she had given him her total unconditional trust, no questions asked. For the most part, she did everything he asked of her without giving him any grief or making any fuss. When he was angry, she was so understanding and soothing, listening patiently and letting him vent his frustrations. When he was in a foul mood, or not feeling particularly friendly, she seemed to understand him and read quietly on her bed, giving him the space he needed.
He had no idea how long he stood there, watching her. There was a soft knock on the door, and Severus moved away from the bed quickly. He was so glad that he'd had the forethought to add the Compulsion Charm on the door. He reached the worktable the same time Avery opened the door.
"Severus, mate, do you got a minute?" Avery asked stepping inside. "You're checking on the potion?"
"Yeah, I have an hour to add the next ingredient," he said. "I just finished my essay for Professor Walters."
Avery looked around the room. "Do you have any extra porcupine quills?" he asked.
"Only a few and they're old," Severus said, reaching for the jar on his shelf.
Avery smirked. "Oh, I don't care if they're old. I'll have more for you by lunch. I already sent Dad an owl. So when is the potion going to be done?"
"Two weeks," Severus answered, indicating they should go with a twist of his wrist. "What are you planning with the quills?"
"Oh, I just need them to get my point across. Careful asking, you don't want to become an unwitting accomplice, do you?" Avery asked, turning to go before Severus could ask him to elaborate. "See you in the common room later."
Severus was glad that he would be getting fresh quills, but was suspicious about Avery's intent. If he was going to use them in a prank or against someone, he really didn't want to know. He checked on Hermione, smiling that she was still asleep, and left to go revise in the common room. If Avery isn't using the quills for something illicit, then that means my absence is being noticed again. He'd have to convince everyone he wasn't becoming reclusive or depressed or whatever they were thinking about him. Bugger. That means, Saturday, I'll have to actually watch the game instead of sitting in the top row reading.
After lounging in the common room for an hour, sipping on cocoa while revising, he made his excuses and went to see Hermione. He slipped in quietly and carefully closed the door. "Boo."
She didn't jump at all, just compared something from her original essay to the book by her elbow. "I knew it was you."
"Oh, yeah?" He smirked as he sat down, watching her as she wrote a line and crossed it out. "I could have been anyone."
"Anyone else would have knocked." She indicated over her shoulder at the door with her quill. "That spell you showed me, the Compulsion Charm, it makes anyone intending to open the door knock first, right?"
"Smarty pants," he sneered playfully, petting her Monster Book of Monsters so he could pick it up. Besides being dangerous to fingers, the thick, furry book had a lot of great information, if he could get the damn thing to cooperate.
"Insufferable know-it-all." Hermione looked up. "At least that's what you usually call me—I mean, your older you."
"Know-it-all? I don't think so," he smirked, noticing that she was revising her Potions essay. "Insufferable—okay, maybe." She had taken his advice and was revising all of her essays.
She picked up a crumpled piece of paper and tossed it at his head. Severus caught it easily enough. "Not bad. Ever think about being a Seeker?" she asked.
He tossed the paper in the bin. "Nope, never wanted to be a dumb jock."
"Just a brilliant Potions master and Dark Arts expert extraordinaire," she chided him.
"Got that right," he said, smiling, finally getting the book to stop growling and lay open in his hands. He kept stroking the soft fur as he read, glancing up in time to see her smirk.
"Petting my book, Severus?" She stressed her words as if implying something as she looked up at him from under her lashes.
He scowled at her. "It's intriguing."
Hermione put her elbow on the table and leaned her head against her hand as she looked at her essay again. "Oh, it's okay, you can pet it if you want to," she said, chuckling softly while crossing something out.
"Trouble with your paper, Hermione?" he said in a slow, silky drawl.
She glanced up, her eyes wide, and her mouth open.
"Why don't you show me what you've got," he purred again slowly and as silkily as he could while he continued to stare at her intently. He was amused to watch as she held her breath for a second before she swallowed nervously and looked away.
"No, I'm fine," she managed to squeak.
"Are you sure, Hermione?" he asked, saying her name as silkily as he could manage. Her cheeks even flushed that time. He knew he was being a prick, but girls rarely reacted to his voice—well, he rarely had the opportunity to talk to them like this. He'd seen Black and Potter trying the technique on girls in the library successfully for years. Well, they couldn't get their voice as smooth as he was able to do. The guys in his house had even tried talking that way once, a soft, silky drawl that sounded ridiculous to him—as if they were trying too hard to be sexy—but apparently his voice lent well to it. "I would be happy to be of service to you."
"I just have to, er, compare—finish theorize my—hypothesis of… my point," she stammered and lowered her head. "You're distracting me."
He mentally laughed at how flustered she had become, stammering incoherently and blushing so deeply. It was intriguing to watch. He had no idea she could be affected so, simply by just the sound of his voice. Even as he stared at her, the pink of her cheeks seemed to deepen, and she wouldn't meet his gaze. It made him chuckle inside, even though he had a smirk firmly on his face. She started to concentrate on her essay and the flush paled. He decided to see if he could make her blush again. "So, do you want me to help you? Tell me what I can do for you?" he asked lowering his voice and making it as smooth as he could.
Hermione didn't look up but her hand stilled, and she visibly swallowed. "No, I'm fine, thank you," she managed to say, but her voice cracked once.
Severus smiled at her reaction. "Are you sure? I'd be more than happy to." He knew that he should let her revise her essay, but this was too much fun. "So what would you like to do today?"
Hermione looked up. "I want to go to the library."
"Not happening," he stated, shaking his head, dropping the sexy timbre.
"A hike, like last time?" She had the most expectantly hopeful expression he'd ever seen.
Slytherin has booked the pitch today for a big practice… The alternates are playing against the first string, which means nearly everyone in my dorm will be out on the Quidditch pitch today, and the house groupies, and their girlfriends… "No way. Not today," he said, shaking his hand when the book snipped at him because of his inattention to it.
"Tomorrow then?" she asked, biting her lip and her doe-like gaze intent on his face.
"You're pushing," he said, wishing he'd never asked the question in the first place. He had been hoping she'd want to do spell work.
She sighed and turned back to her essay. "Too bad it's not my time."
Okay, that peaked his curiosity. "Why?"
"It snowed yesterday," she stated as if that explained everything. "No one would recognize me or know I was a stranger, especially if I wore a hat and scarf with my hood up."
Severus looked up at her and his mouth fell open. Snowed—her time—and it was snowing a bit today. "Maybe. But your robes are Gryffindor…"
"The ones I have on now are Slytherin," she replied, stroking her feather quill with her fingers.
Severus scowled at how she was misusing her quill. "Boy's robes, in case you hadn't noticed." The Monster Book of Monsters started to squirm again, and he stroked the spine to calm it back down.
She sighed and leaned her head against her fist again, watching his fingers caress the book. "I just thought that it might be nice to get out of this room or a bit. You know, fresh air, sunshine, play in the snow…" She looked up at him. "Unless it's not snowing now? I mean during this time." She leaned her cheek on her fist and her little finger on her lower lip. "I just thought it would be fun to—I had so much fun the last time."
"And it was really risky," he said, returning his attention to the chapter on kelpies.
"What is life without a little risk?" Hermione asked.
Severus remained quiet, his fingers absent-mindedly stroking the book as he read, which made the large book literally purr at him. If there was a clock, he was certain he'd hear it ticking away. She was staring and she knew he hated that, but she was waiting for an answer. He looked up and one side of his mouth pulled back in a smirk. "I'll think about it," he finally said. "Not today, though."
She sighed in resolution. She leaned down, reached for her bag, pulled out a Chocolate Frog, then looked up at him and withdrew another. "Would you like one?"
He smiled. "If you think you can spare it?"
She laughed, extending her arm toward him. "I have several in my bag. I like to nibble on them when I revise."
"Ah, yes, the dentists' daughter's little defiance to her parents' upbringing," he said, a bit snarky as he smirked at the offered treat.
"Ha ha ha," she said, her head bobbing left, right, and then left again. "I always brush my teeth extra carefully after eating sweets." She extended her arm a little farther toward him. "Really, do you want it?"
He took the pentagon-shaped box and smiled. "Thank you. Do you want the card back?" He had no idea if she collected them or not. They were a big deal to the younger kids of his house, even trading or selling them.
"No, it's—you may keep it," she said, smiling at him.
When he opened the box, grabbing the frog before it could jump away, he saw Hengist Waldebeuf of Woodcroft, the second Chief of the Wizards' Council who had established the first agreement with goblins for minting a standardized monetary system, smiling back at him from the bottom of the box. He lifted the card out and read the brief entry. This was the first time he'd seen the famous, hooked-nosed wizard except in books. His card was worth quite a bit to those who were trying to collect all the Frog cards. "Are you sure you don't want this one?"
Hermione's smile widened. "Nah, it's all right. I have others. Besides, it's something to remember me by."
He was shocked by her statement. He stared at her as he fingered the edge of the card. "As if I'd forget you," he mumbled inaudibly.
~ T. B. C. ~