A/N: Holy moley! So sorry for the wait guys, I've been feeling a whole lot of blah lately so I haven't gotten around to doing the things I should, this being one of them. But have no fear! An update has arrived! Enjoy!
Severus was sitting in a large chair outside just off the front steps that was formed from unrelenting weather and wind, leading from the front door. He was wrapped in an overly large blanket that seemed to swallow him, his face the only part of him exposed to the salty wind that carried a chill, but he didn't seem to mind. Neither did Hermione as she stopped in front of him. Nothing was spoken, but they stared at each other for a while, Severus tucked in his blankets just taking in Hermione, Hermione in the breeze and morning sunshine, taking in Severus. He reached out, grabbing her and pulled her into the chair. It was only big enough for one person to sit comfortably, but Hermione found her place nestled on his lap, head falling to his shoulder as he covered the both of them with the blanket. She took in a large breath of him, he smelled freshly of soap and salt water and also slightly like she remembered of musky and damp dungeons.
In front of them was a slight drop that ended with a long stretch of beach and zooming along it on toy brooms were two boys with red hair. Bill and Charlie Weasley, now ten and eight years old respectively, fighting each other for a ball that even Hermione could see was flat and worn down to nothing but a shell. They didn't seem to mind, however, just happy to be playing, to have a little bit of freedom on the sand. A little further down the beach she could make out Arthur holding the hand of another small, red-headed child around four years old: Percy. He was bending down awkwardly, trying to pick up sea shells without dropping those he already had gathered in his arms. Arthur appeared bored, keeping a careful eye on Bill and Charlie, while trying to show interest in the things Percy was trying to show him. She didn't realize that he was also busy watching two more small children, these ones more interested in the water than any shells or balls they could be given.
Fred and George Weasley, two year olds now that had grasped the concept of walking on a soft surface, found walking on sand just another obstacle. They were helping each other, arms intertwining and stumbles being taken together instead of on their own were intent on reaching the water's edge. A wave would crash, crawl along the sand and they would be off to greet it, Fred pulling at George or maybe George pulling on Fred, Hermione couldn't tell who was who, to get there before the wave would slide back, away from them. They wouldn't give up, continuing to run after it, and then realizing it was rushing back to them would squeal in delight and try to run away from it before it could tease their bare feet and the game would start over again. Just watching them was exhausting. Hermione felt the slightest bit sorry for Arthur's task of watching all of them.
"What's going to happen?" Severus asked when he grew bored of the waves.
"Oh, I expect we'll have a few days to recuperate and then as any war goes, any I've been in at least, we'll be back in it again, nearly dying." Hermione mused.
Severus did not find this amusing and if he did, did not show it.
"They're going to be looking for us." He pointed out.
"If they aren't already." Hermione added. "We're in good company. Even if they do find us, we'll be alright."
"I hope you're right." He tightened his grip on her, she pulled the blanket tighter around them. Hermione had only ever seen the future Severus in passing when it came to the Order and didn't know much about what stronghold their relationships were. With what she'd seen in that world, Severus didn't have much if any friendship or even an acquaintance level of friendliness between them, he had been thrust into a group of strangers that he'd never have given a second thought to. Besides Remus, the Weasleys were nothing more than fellow Wizards who had attended the same school, nothing more.
"But what's going to happen? If we make it out of this, are you going to find the clock and leave?" He sounded scared to ask. Hermione looked up to him, he kept his eyes forward.
"I...I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead." She lied, knowing very well that in the past couple of days she had done more thinking about it than she'd care to admit. "You could come with me." She suggested.
"Wouldn't that open a new can of worms? If we ended up jumping into your timeline and I was with you, wouldn't there be two of me in your time? I remember hearing somewhere it could kill all of mankind to have that situation happen."
"If that is at all true then we'd be dead by now, There's a baby sized version of me somewhere around here." She thought and when his silence became too much, she offered, "I could stay."
He smiled but it was short lived.
"Would you think that if the clock was right in front of you?" His black eyes finally met hers. "Could you forget about the passageway home so easily just to remain here?"
He brought up a good point, that urge to always go home would be there, tempting her to return to the familiar.
"Why are you asking this?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, pulling back slightly. Severus returned his eyes to Charlie and Bill.
"Near death experience, I suppose. Five years living in a cell no larger than the bathroom inside the cottage, wondering if I'd make it out alive, if I'd ever see you again. Coming to the conclusion that you're the closest thing I've ever had to someone who truly gave two shits about me and maybe I don't have to be a miserable old potions master if you somehow find your way back." He looked at her again. "When You-Know-Who searched my brain, the memory he found was of me watching you touch that glass back in that shop and not knowing what would happen, when I'd see you again. I begged of him, if he was going to kill you, to just kill me too. I'd experienced five years of it and couldn't go on if he planned to kill you."
Hermione couldn't answer. There weren't any words she could think of to say to that and only wrapped her arms tighter around him. She watched Charlie snatch the ball from Bill and sharply turn on his broom, racing back down the beach, Charlie laughing and threatening him in a way that caused Arthur to look up at them and consider the game ended should he ever say that again.
"If we're caught," Hermione started, "what will happen then? If we can't fight our way out of this?"
"I've always admired a sad ending to a love story." There was a beat where Severus just breathed. "It's more realistic."
...
An afternoon storm had pushed everyone inside, the kids gave protest, claiming they weren't going to get hurt with a little bit of rain, but the fierce look Molly had given them finalized a decision to go upstairs and they could now be heard running back and fourth in the hallways, stomping on the ground, jumping around. Severus wasn't exactly thrilled with it given his long and steady looks up to the ceiling where his eyes would follow the noise and slide closed, jaw clenching when a muffled yell could be heard. Molly and Arthur on the other hand ignored it completely, Hermione guessing that because they could be heard, they knew the children were okay.
Remus, Regulus, Arthur, Molly, Muriel and much to Hermione's surprise, Arabella Figg and Alastor Moody had managed to squish themselves in the small but ample kitchen. She was admiring Arabella, only having seen her before with wrinkles and tattered clothing, looking quite beautiful as her youth was only just beginning to fade. She sat there next to Regulus, the two of them in deep conversation while Arabella cuddled Harry in her arms looking every bit the part of a caretaker. Alastor had also been a fixation point for Hermione as the man had not changed, looking just as 'mad' and as disheveled as ever. He had kept to himself, not conversing with anyone unless he had been directly spoken to, his good eye staring into the center of the table while his other eye rolled about, just like Severus had been doing, tracing the noises from the children upstairs. Arthur and Molly were having their own conversation while Muriel was carefully watching everyone. She stooped in a chair placed at the corner of the table, carefully supervising everyone, visibly straining to hear the conversations taking place, but had mostly taken to criticizing Severus, Remus and Hermione who had chosen their own side of the table far away from her.
"Is everyone here?" Muriel snapped, the conversations dropping like they hadn't been happening and full attention was brought to the elderly woman. "Then we should proceed."
"Right. Um." Arthur sucked in a breath as he stood, his thumbs looping into his pants and he pulled them up by the waist, straightening his belt all around as he leaned back. "I am glad we are all here, as prematurely as it happened, but as planned. It would be best to go over the next course of action."
"First thing's first, how many of us are left?" Molly chimed in. Attention was turned to Regulus and Remus who exchanged a glance with each other.
"We lost Frank. Edgar was last seen cornered so I am not certain of his current status though I'm not sure it is favorable. No one has heard from Dearborn if I'm correct?" Remus paused and took the silence as an affirmative answer from everyone. Regulus leaned back in his chair interlocking his fingers behind his head.
"We're still waiting on word from the Prewett's, McKinnon, Diggle and Dearwick." He added. Molly looked as if she had tasted something sour.
"Any word on Emmaline?" She asked, the look only dissipating slightly when Remus shook his head. Hermione had heard all these names prior and was quite glad to hear the original Order had seemed to be in place save for the few who had become turncoat and were now working under Voldemort. She looked to Severus who seemed lost, but was keeping it together by nodding as if he had understood.
"What of James?" He asked, a question Hermione didn't realize she had been thinking of until he had asked it.
"Potter? James Potter?" Muriel perked up. "If the boy's still alive I don't see why we couldn't give Herbert back to him."
"Harry." Hermione corrected her, eyes narrowing. "And we are not giving him back. James is part of the circle and—"
"—Harry, Henry, who cares. Having that baby here is just putting us in more danger than we need to be."
"Harry's not going anywhere." Arabella said, protectively clutching Harry closer to her, glowering at Muriel for even suggesting it. "They only plan to use him as a strength to their dark plans and I for one will not see him put through such a life."
"I think," Alastor butted in with a stab to the ground from his walking stick, "this conversation is getting off track. Let's worry about the Potter's boy later, concentrate on what we have to do to gain a hand on this war."
"Thank you, Moody." Remus said in agreement. "Hermione, you've mentioned horcruxes, the extra safety You-Know-Who has placed to keep himself alive?"
"Yes, he should have five of them now if the timeline hasn't affected his making them." She answered. "I gave Dumbledore a list of them when we were back in Hogwarts, we could try contacting him and seeing if he has had any luck finding them."
Molly hung her head and Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder, there was an audible gasp from Arabella, and a wheezing sound coming from the rest as they hung cluelessly to Hermione's suggestion. She looked at Severus who had been wincing and he turned toward her carefully.
"No one told you?" He asked and Hermione shook her head.
"Told me what?" She asked, growing scared of the answer as Severus cleared his throat and took her hand in his.
"Dumbledore was killed a few years ago."
"What? No, that's not—"
"—I'm afraid it is."
"When You-Know-Who reached his greatest strength, Hogwarts was the first place he took over next to the Ministry of course. Nearly every Death Eater had snuck into the castle and began a rampage, taking hostages, forcing separation among blood lines and sorting everyone into groups of who would live and who would be forever bound to work in the labor camps He set up. Their main target was Dumbledore, rest his soul, who fought to the very end and died bravely." Alastor had explained calmly, one eye trained on Hermione, his other eye snapping to the ceiling when a loud crash happened. "And just so you know, Molly, your twins have just crashed that trashy lamp."
Molly rose from her seat, dropping the table cloth she had been using to dab her eyes with and excused herself to take care of Fred and George. Hermione sat there in shock. She had not given. Any thought to Hogwarts and how Voldemort's rule had affected it, feeling slightly guilty for not asking about the school or those inside sooner.
"What about the others? McGonagall? Pomfrey? Filch?"
"They let McGonagall take over as Headmistress as she was the only one who could keep every body in that school in line. They had tried others, but there was nothing but mutiny from the students and staff alike until they agreed. Only purebloods and halfbloods with potential or ties to the Dark Arts are allowed to be educated there, the others denied any kind of schooling outside what their parents can teach, or if they've been lucky, what the other wizarding schools could grant if they were lucky enough to obtain a spot in the transfer programs that were offered before that Umbridge excuse took over the educational department."
Hermione became nauseated at the name. She wasn't expecting any other news, knowing full well that Umbridge would have jumped at the chance, not only in her own time, but any other time to straighten out the wizarding world and the education policies of those not full blood or entitled.
"Then we'll have to speak with McGonagall and hope that Dumbledore had at least the smallest notion to pass any information onto her." Hermione said decidedly.
"Good luck." Regulus sighed. "Unless you know of a secret passage that hasn't been discovered, getting inside Hogwarts is impossible."
"If we could help you sneak in, Hermione, we would, but even then every breathing body is accounted for. With every Dark Art witch and wizard being on alert for those wanted by You-Know-Who, going to McGonagall would be your demise."
Hermione looked around the room and settled on the fire place, she nodded toward it.
"Who says I need to go into the castle to speak with her?" She asked. There was a chance, even a huge possibility that the fireplaces were being watched closely, and she wondered just how much they had been abused. "We might even have luck with portraits if we could find one we can trust enough to get a message through."