Traveling by Portkey had never made him sick before, but he had never traveled internationally by Portkey before, either. The spinning had seemed to last forever. All the blood felt as though it was pooling at the back of his body, pulling away from the finger he had on the ragged newspaper, two years out of date. And then he landed, feet crashing into cement, knees bending without his say-so.

"Severus Snape from London?" the bored witch behind the desk asked. She held a clipboard out to him. "Sign here to validate safe arrival." Snape forced his knees to work (but they would be sore for days), and stumbled over to the desk, signed where she indicated. "Enjoy your stay is Australia, Mr. Snape."

"Thank you."

He followed the signs out of the office and had to sign a few more documents, present his wand for inspection, and declared every item in his pockets. It was late by the time he made it to the hotel, but everything had been arranged for him. There was a room booked in his name, a bed waiting.

Severus rose early the next morning. He hadn't dreamt for the first time in ages; he felt rested. He dressed quickly, and then had to go back and reevaluate. It was hot outside. There was no way he would spend the day going from one Muggle office to the next sweating through his shirts.

Better attired, but feeling incredibly bare, Severus made his way to the first place on his list. He had an impressive dossier of entirely falsified paperwork declaring him to be an account executor for Miss Hermione Granger, seeking estranged relatives, Wendell and Monica Wilkins, following her death.

He had decided on half a whim that the first thing he would do after resigning Hogwarts was find the elder Grangers. If he found them and they were still alive, he would do everything in his power to restore their memories. He had overheard the story in full at a holiday Order gathering some time ago—how Granger had Obliviated her parents, sent them to Australia to be away from the war. It was the right thing to do, as far as he was concerned, but it would have been very hard for her. Since she would have been alive to retrieve them if it hadn't been for him, he had taken it upon himself to get them back and put them to rights.

With a little Confunding, it was easy to track the Grangers. It only took him the afternoon to discover that they had arrived in Sydney and stayed in the same hotel he had a room in for awhile. The Muggles went fuzzy at that point; Severus suspected Granger had sent some spelled paperwork along with them. The parents had easily secured the documents necessary to buy a house and live as permanent residents.

They were living in a suburban area. The house was nice, tidy-looking. It had a little garden in the front with bushes trimmed into perfect squares. He knocked on the door, and a woman who looked very much like Hermione Granger answered.

"Monica Wilkins?"

"Yes?"

"Hello. My name is Severus Snape." He paused so that they could smile politely at each other, and slipped his wand out of his pocket. "Confundus. May I come in?"

"Won't you come in?"

She led him to the living room. A room, tidy like the house, furnished with plush sofas and a decorative tea set displayed on a side table. There were books everywhere, but a mysterious lack of photographs.

"Is your husband at home?"

"No. He ran to market," Mrs. Granger said dreamily. "He'll be back shortly."

Severus Stupefied her, setting down the fake paperwork and pulling the roll of parchment out of his pocket. He had interviewed several people in the Spell Damage ward at St. Mungo's before leaving London. They had had plenty of tips and pointers for sorting out memories, and most of what they'd said went along with what Severus had read already.

Severus moved Mrs. Granger so that she was lying comfortably on the couch, and began his work. By the time Mr. Granger returned, he had a colorful nimbus of spells hovering in the air above her. Granger had worked her spells properly, but thoroughly. She had wanted to be forgotten completely, and it had worked. It would take time to undo, and he would have to be careful.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mr. Granger asked, almost shouted. Severus turned and Stupefied him as well, flicking his wand to move him onto the chair. Mr. Granger began to snore almost immediately, his head tipped back against the top of the chair, mouth hanging open.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and cast Muffliato on himself. He kept working.