Hello, my dear readers!

Sorry it took me an age and a half to update. Life has been extraordinarily crazy, as I will explain below. I haven't finished 53, but I hope that I'll get a chance to over Thanksgiving break.

Thanks to those who reviewed, I love each and every one of you.

On to the chapter!

Chapter 50

"Harry is getting suspicious of Draco, following him down Knockturn Alley and everything" Hermione told Severus, weariness in her voice. "For god's sake, the boy is as dense as one of Hagrid's rock cakes when it comes to the important stuff and he suddenly wants to be Sherlock now, when it's bloody inconvenient. And then I was all ready to go with the new site I've been looking at for my mission, everything established, and Dumbledore suddenly shuts it down as soon as I give him confirmation that it's there!"

"You sound like you've had a rough day," Severus said wryly, half amused. "Should we have tea or break out the firewhiskey?"

Hermione considered for a moment, staring at the teacup on her desk. Severus was seated on the other side of it, comfortably draped over the chair. He fought the urge to laugh at the moue of thought on her face, the wrinkle in her brow as she considered the cup as if it held the answers to all of her problems.

"We could do both," Severus suggested after a moment. "If it's too much for you to choose."

She turned her frown to him. "You can keep your sarcasm to yourself, Severus," she said haughtily. "I'll take the firewhiskey, thank you."

With a sigh and a flourish, Severus produced a silver flask from the pocket of his robes. It was just one of the small things that were different now. Before he would have taken off his heavy robes the minute he crossed the threshold into her room. She knew Severus in a snowy white shirt and black trousers, and Professor Snape in billowing dark robes. Now he was both, and she didn't quite like it. But she liked his company, and on the rare nights he came in person for reports, she wished it would last as long as possible.

As he poured a dollop of alcohol into a conjured tumbler, Hermione frowned. "I thought you didn't drink when you weren't sure about when you would be called."

"Which is precisely why I am not imbibing now," he drawled, replacing the flask.

Hermione raised her tumbler to him in a quiet toast. "Then why do you have it on you?" she asked, taking a sip of the liquid. It burned going down.

Severus crossed his arms. "Because it can be useful for a number of reasons," he said, in a tone that told her that he was answering her relentless questions but wasn't overly pleased by it. "Getting other people drunk, making it look like I'm drinking, firewhiskey is dramatically flammable, and Lucius gave me the flask so I can let other people know that I'm a friend of his."

"Makes sense, I suppose," Hermione said with a shrug. "How do you want to proceed with Malfoy? I definitely don't think that we should let Harry know about Draco's new status with the Order."

That had been an interesting night. Hermione hadn't thought she would ever see Malfoy begging, but she had indeed been granted that experience. The blond ponce had done surprising well, better than she had expected, and now was set to report to Hermione once a week once school resumed. The group of Inner Circle members whom Severus and Hermione had chosen to decide the aristocrat's fate had not been thrilled, but when they had heard of the threat to Hermione's life, they had decided it was better to have a known threat than an unknown threat.

"You try to steer Potter in the wrong direction," said Severus simply. "It shouldn't be too hard. Plant a few suggestions, try to invoke common sense. Get Weasley on your side. Any of them, really. Shouldn't be too hard."

Hermione sighed, finishing off the liquor. "Well, those are my problems. What's been going on with you?"

Severus had opened his mouth to answer- probably that he needed to leave- when Fawkes materialized in Hermione's room with a shriek. Both Severus and Hermione had their wands out before they recognized the bird as Dumbledore's- they shared quick look before something took Hermione to her knees.

It was the phoenix, pushing an image onto her mind. Dumbledore, slumped over his desk, his hand slowly turning black from a large golden ring with a black stone on it. It was accompanied by a feeling of drastic urgency, a desire to be followed.

"What is it? What is that blasted bird doing to you, Hermione-" Severus' voice was low and frantic. "Merlin, there's blood coming from her nose- stop it, whatever it is or I will turn you into a fucking pincushion, Fawkes!"

It stopped and she came to, her eyes focusing on Severus' face. "I'm fine," she croaked. "Dumbledore's in trouble. We need to get to the castle-"

Fawkes chirruped and offered his tail to them. Severus and Hermione looked at each other, then each grabbed a handful of tail feathers.

It was like Apparition, except they were being squeezed through a tunnel of fire and ash and wind. There was a moment of resistance when they met the Hogwarts wards, but then they were landing in the Headmaster's office in a flurry of feathers and ash.

The scene that met their eyes was nearly identical to what Hermione had seen- the only difference was that the Headmaster had torn the ring from his hand and used the Sword of Gryffindor to destroy what Hermione was now sure was a Horcrux. Now he was lying on the ground, unconscious.

"You tend to his hand," Hermione said quickly. "It a curse of some kind, Dark Magic. I'll deal with the ring."

Severus frowned at her. "Be careful. This took down Albus Dumbledore of all people."

She reached out and squeezed his hand quickly. "I will be."

They went to their separate tasks in silence. Hermione saw that Dumbledore hadn't quite finished the job- the sword had cracked the stone, but a mist was seeping from the stone ever so slowly, an almost clear mist that was slowly gaining opacity.

"It's feeding off him," Hermione called out. "I'm going to kill it."

The sword felt heavy in her hands, but reassuringly so. Her arm muscles weren't as strong as she would have liked them to be, but the old Goblin magic let her lift the weapon above her head and swing it at the forming mist. Her aim was off, however- it went through the mist but failed to strike the ring. Instead, the sword logged in the ground, slicing the stone like butter.

The mist howled, swirling over the ring, forming a face. Frantically, Hermione tried to pry the sword from the ground, get it above her head again.

"Hermione Granger," hissed the mist, to Hermione's horror. "I have seen you in his mind." It laughed as Hermione raised the sword again. "You aren't the sister he so desperately wants to bring back, just a liability he must account for-"

It shrieked again and Hermione brought down the weapon, her aim true this time. It broke the stone in the center cleanly in half, breaking apart the mist.

Hermione sank to her knees again, panting. She felt like all her strength had drained away; her arms felt like limp noodles and she was on her knees because her legs had decided they could no longer hold her up. Severus was glancing up at her worriedly, paler than she would have liked. He had turned the rug into a raised cot, and was kneeling over the prone body of the Headmaster.

"That was one of those bloody horcruxes, wasn't it?" he asked tersely. "Jesus fucking Christ I don't like that it knew your name."

"It had been inside of his mind," Hermione said wearily. "The bloody idiot put the ring on." The remains of the ring were still smoldering. Carefully, she used the sword to nudge the pieces so she could see the design on the ring. "I have no idea why- the stone is crude. It doesn't look like any kind of family crest I've ever seen." A triangle inclosing a circle and a line- what on earth was it?

Severus shook his head once, trying to keep strands of hair from his face. "After. I need to concentrate to stop the curse from spreading. This is going to take a lot of power."

Hermione went to stand behind Severus, resting a hand on his shoulder for a moment before gathering his hair behind his head in a horse tail. She slipped the ponytail holder from her own wrist, winding it around his thick hair. "There," she said, a tender note of remembrance in her voice. "That'll stay. Do you need to borrow any of my strength?"

Severus looked up at her, meeting her eyes for a moment before shaking his head and turning to his task. "No, Hermione. Thank you."

As he set to work, Hermione went to the wall covered in portraits. "What happened?" she asked them. "Why would he put it on?"

Most of the portraits just shrugged mutely. A few murmured to each other, but only one answered her, in a high snarky voice. "We are bound to keep the Headmaster's secrets, Miss Granger."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, meeting the black and shiny eyes of the painted man before her. "Well, the Headmaster is currently lying on the ground, cursed within an inch of his life," she remarked mildly. "Any information you can give us to help save his life would be useful at the very least."

A portrait of a stern looking woman walked into the frame of the deceased Headmaster who had spoken. "Really, Phineas, she has a point."

"Telling her why he did what he did will do nothing to help treat him," Phineas sniped. "So I see no reason to."

"Really," muttered the woman with a huff. "Dear, after he sent you off this morning, Albus rushed to the old Gaunt hut. He returned approximately forty five minutes ago, with the ring. He spent at least ten minutes doing diagnostics on it. He disabled a number of nasty curses, then put it on. It seems he missed one, however. Fawkes immediately left to get you and Severus. He hadn't been wearing the ring more than five minutes before the two of you arrived."

Hermione nodded gravely at the woman's portrait. "Thank you."

"Of course," the woman said kindly. "If anyone can set him to rights, it'll be Severus. That boy's been in and out of this office for the last twenty years it seems, and he's stronger every times he comes in here."

The quiet confidence in Severus made Hermione smile. "I'm sure he will," she said in a hushed voice. "Thank you."

The night waned long as Hermione watched Severus work on the Headmaster, drawing the man back from the brink of death. She perched on one of the fluffy chairs that Dumbledore kept for guests, watching, just watching. Watching as Severus' voice cracked from speaking all the incantations, watching as his wand movements grew less and less precise. It must have been two in the morning before he stopped, breathing hard. It took him a moment to stand, and she could hear his joints creak and pop.

"He's stable," he mumbled. "He won't wake up for another hour, but he's stable."

Hermione felt a flood of tears threaten. For all that Dumbledore had done, for all that she knew he would do, she also knew that the Order would be lost without him. "Thank god."

Severus lips went thin. "Don't thank him yet," he said coldly. "The damage was done. He has less than a year to live."

Hermione stood, walking over to Severus. She rested a hand on his arm. "You did what you could, Severus," she said softly. "You gave him time. You've given us time to ready the Order."

The Potions Master shook his head irritably. "Why the fuck did he do it?" he asked her. "Why on earth would be put the ring on?"

"I don't know," Hermione said. "The symbol on it- I've never seen anything like it."

Severus frowned. "What did it look like?"

There was a roll of parchment on Dumbledore's desk; Hermione took it and a quill. She made a quick sketch, with Severus standing over her shoulder. When she finished, she showed it to Severus. "It's crude, but it looks like it-"

"He's joking," Severus said flatly, his eyes not leaving the parchment in his hand. "He didn't actually do what I think he just did."

Hermione frowned, looking at Severus. "What do you mean? Do you know this symbol?"

"It's from a fucking fairy tale," Severus said incredulously, finally looking up at her. "Have you heard of the Deathly Hallows?"

She riffled through her memory, then shook her head. "No," she admitted. "What is it?"

Severus stalked to the Headmaster's bookshelves, searching until he found a slim tome. "It's the Tale of the Three Brothers," he said, handing the book to her. "I need to go fetch a few potions- read it, and when I get back we can discuss it."

Hermione nodded her assent, taking the book and going to her usual fluffy chair in front of the desk. She hardly noticed when Severus swept out of the room, leaving her to the dusty book.

"The Tales of Beetle the Bard," she murmured, stroking the cover. The names of the stories in the table of contents were odd to her, vaguely recognizable but not completely familiar. The Tale of the Three Brothers was midway through the book, and the symbol on the ring was etched below the title. Hermione began to read, a small frown forming between her brows.

When Severus returned, he held up a hand. "A moment," he said wearily. Bending down by Dumbledore, he poured potion after potion into the man's throat. Small improvements became visible- the color returned to the Headmaster's face, his breathing eased. His hand, however, stayed gnarled and black.

With a groan, Severus rose and took the seat next to Hermione. "Alright," he said wearily. "Go ahead, I know you have questions."

Hermione frowned at him. "This is a children's story," she said, disbelief in her voice. "Severus, are you trying to say that you think that Dumbledore put on the ring because he thinks the Resurrection Stone is real?"

"The Headmaster has theorized in the past that the Deathly Hallows are real," Severus said wearily. "I've argued with him about it, too. Legend says that if you possess all three Hallows, then you become the Master of Death." Severus brought his hands up, rubbing his temples. "He has personal reasons why he would want the Resurrection Stone in particular," he said after a moment, with a glance at the man on the cot. "He's never been perfect, Hermione, and he has his own ghosts."

Hermione was quiet, turning over the information in her mind. "I think this might have been what he was talking about," she murmured. "Something about this seems like- like something that could protect Harry. If Harry was the Master of Death, then perhaps he could survive destroying the Horcrux-"

"They aren't real, Hermione," Severus said, looking up at her with a terrible expression on his face. "Dumbledore thinks that his proof is Potter's damn Invisibility Cloak, and that isn't true. It's been in the Potter family for generations, sure, but every twenty years or so they would take it to Twitfit and Tattings to redo the unicorn hair weavings. Give it another couple years and it won't be such a true cloak of invisibility anymore. There are stories about a wand- Deathstick, the Elder Wand, whatever you want to call it, but it is just coincidence! And this bloody stone- is it safe now?"

Hermione nodded mutely, and Severus snatched it up, turning it over thrice in his hand. "If this bloody thing worked, Lily Potter would have appeared in front of me just now," he snarled. "It doesn't work, Hermione."

It was funny, mused Hermione, how one woman's name said by one man had the power to feel like a sucker punch to the gut. "Alright then," she said wearily. "But Dumbledore believed it was true and now his hand is cursed. What's the prognosis on that?"

"Bleak," snapped Severus. "I'll have to wait until he wakes up to know for sure."

Something about the way he said it made Hermione take a closer look at Severus. He was a hard man to read, but she knew him, or at least she had known him. His right hand was clenched into a fist, and there was a tic jumping on the side of his face. His voice was tight, brusque, like the string of a longbow. Severus Snape was not calm and collected as he usually was, he was nervous and worried and more stressed than Hermione had seen him in a long time. But there was something else too, a fury behind his dark eyes that took her by surprise. He was angry, furious, and she had no idea why.

He took her appraisal of his face and form with a sour expression on his face. "That bad?" Hermione asked, a flutter of fear rising in her belly. "Should we convene the Order?"

"Absolutely not," said Severus. "And yes, it is that bad. We didn't get here in time."

Hermione nodded, swallowing hard. "How long until he wakes up?"

Severus glanced at the Headmaster. "I don't know."

They sat in silence for a while. Fawkes was quiet, looking at the Headmaster anxiously. The night outside the window was calm and clear, with no sign that the man who ruled the castle was perilously close to death. No, the stars shone on a clear lake, treetops moved with a silent wind, and the only sound in the room was the roaring of the fire and the puffing of the delicate silver instruments surrounding them.

To Hermione, it felt surreal. Albus Dumbledore was almost a mythical figure to her, as much as he was a man whose flaw she knew all too well. It was he who had chosen to send her life on this unexpected path, it was he who had taken away her absolute respect for authority, he was he who had made her into this weapon, into this woman who thought three steps ahead in twelve different directions, whose thoughts were consumed by war and death and a desperate need to keep Harry Potter alive. He scared her and comforted her in equal measure.

For it was true, that Dumbledore was a terrifying man. Ruthlessness was a quality that Hermione herself possessed and it was probably the aspect of her personality that disturbed her the most. She recognized that pragmatic ruthlessness in Dumbledore, could see it in every decision he made. It was that ruthlessness mixed with absolute conviction in both the cause and his own infallibility that made Hermione's blood run cold when tallying deaths and actions taken and not taken. If she was to be honest, she would admit that it scared her because she saw that in herself too. But she, at least, forced herself to check with others, to share her plans with Severus. Dumbledore did no such thing, because in his mind he was the only person qualified to know all the pieces of the puzzle. That was his tragic flaw- he bore all the weight of the war, all the weight of decisions made for the greater good, all the weight of the endless manipulation and cunning and above all, ruthlessness.

But he comforted her as much as he scared her, because it was all due to him that they had a chance of winning the war. There was a reason he thought he should be the only one with information- the truth of the matter was the Albus Dumbledore was one of the best wizards in the world, almost unequaled in power and knowledge. He was more than 120 years old to Hermione's knowledge- he was old and he was powerful and he was smart. He had fought and won against Grindelwald, he had fought in the first war against Voldemort. He knew how wars like this were fought, he had knowledge and experience that could help them. There was always the impression of wisdom from the old man, wisdom and strength. Half of the conviction of the Order came from the Headmaster, and if anything happened to him faith would drop dramatically.

"Why on earth would he try to use the stone?" Hermione asked finally, pain in her voice.

Severus sighed. "A better man would tell you that it's not my story to tell, I find I don't really care about his bloody privacy after everything he's done." He turned serious eyes on Hermione. "Tell me. Do you know anything about Dumbledore's childhood?"

Hermione frowned. "Nothing. I researched him, of course, trying to find something, but only old Transfiguration Awards came up. Oh, and his father was arrested for something but there was no real concrete details." She felt slightly bad talking about Dumbledore's secrets right in front of his unconscious form, but she pushed it aside. She wanted to know.

"It was for attacking a Muggle," Severus answered, a small self-satisfied smile on his face. She scowled at him- she hadn't really applied herself to finding dirt on Dumbledore, but it seemed that Severus had. "See, Albus here had two siblings. His brother Aberforth runs the Hog's Head down in Hogsmeade, and they had a sister, a long time ago. She was a Squib and she died, quite possibly at Dumbledore's own hand."

Hermione couldn't help herself, she gasped. "No," she breathed. "What happened?"

"It gets worse," Severus said, making a small expression of distaste. "See, the other hand at which the sister's death could be laid was Dumbledore's former lover… Gellert Grindelwald."

Disbelief was stamped across Hermione's features. "You're fucking with me," she said after a moment. "You're telling me that either Dumbledore or Dumbledore's gay lover, the former terror of the Wizarding World, killed his sister, so you are obviously being a bastard and pulling my leg."

Severus crossed one long leg over the other. "That's why his nose is crooked," was all the Potions Master said. "Because his brother punched it at the funeral."

"Bloody hell," Hermione murmured. "That's a lot to take in."

"Long story short, he probably tried to use the ring to apologize to his sister," explained Severus. "Dumbledore has quite a lot of feelings surrounding his youthful infatuation with Grindelwald, namely guilt for having planned to conquer the Wizarding World with his lover and guilt for being the cause of his sister's death. It doesn't excuse it- the old goat should have known that the Hallows aren't real- but it explains it."

"How do you know so much about him?" asked Hermione, looking at Severus with frank admiration. "I did a good deal of digging but I never found anything."

Severus looked uncomfortable. "A number of ways," he said. "Talking to him, for one. Doing digging of my own. Rumor flies among purebloods- the Dumbledores were always pureblood- and most Death Eaters knew about his sister and a few knew about his friendship with Grindelwald. And I've been inside Dumbledore's mind more than once. He taught me only some of the formal Occlumency I know, but most of the Legilimency. He let me practice on him, once he was assured of my loyalty."

"And why are you telling me?" asked Hermione after a moment. "Not that I don't appreciate the information, but..."

Severus sneered at her. "I thought you'd like to have some leverage against him if you ever need it," he said, disdain dripping from his voice.

"You've never used it," Hermione remarked with unerring accuracy. "Have you?"

"I haven't," said Severus after a moment. "He knows I know, there's no point."

Hermione made a small noise of agreement. "He's probably the most complicated man I've ever met, after you of course."

Severus' shoulders twitched in surprise. "I'm the most complicated man you've ever met?" he asked incredulously.

Before responding, Hermione met his eyes squarely. "Yes," she said, letting all her honestly flow onto her face. "Dumbledore I can predict, to a point. The Dark Lord makes sense to me after learning about his childhood. But you… Severus Snape, I have never met a man so confusing." You tell me I'm beautiful and you kiss me and put your hands on my body and hours later you tell me I'm nothing to you. And then you're surprised that I find you confusing.

"And here I was thinking you could read me like an open book," Severus murmured, glancing over at the portraits. He lowered his voice. "It terrified me."

"Rest assured, an open book you will never be," Hermione answered wryly. "I'll admit I thought I had at least broken the wards on the library, only to find that I was in the wrong building all together." She yawned, then, weariness hitting her.

Severus' eyes sharpened, taking the blood that had fallen from her nose to her shirt, the dark circles under her eyes, the paleness of her skin. "You need to go and rest," he said finally. "When was the last time you slept?"

Hermione checked her watch- it was close to dawn. "I went to bed at half past two last night and woke up at five," she admitted. "I've been busy." Her eyes snapped to his face. "I don't want to hear one word about taking better care of myself, Severus, because I won't hesitate to call you a hypocrite."

He had no other recourse than to scowl at her. "Then, if you feel like it, please go home and sleep. I'll watch the old goat until he wakes up."

"Or I could watch him and you could sleep because you are just as dead on your feet," Hermione pointed out. "I have the Time Turner."

"I have my potion," Severus retorted. "I'm as fresh as a daffodil."

"And just about as yellow," Hermione countered, crossing her arms over her chest. "How's your liver liking that potion of yours, hmm?"

There was a mulish set to her chin, one that Severus knew he wouldn't be able to get around. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "As you pointed out, you have a Time Turner," he said dryly. "What if, as a compromise, we both use it, get some sleep, and return?"

Hermione blinked at him- she had prepared for another rebuttal- then nodded. "That's perfectly reasonable."

"Only with you is the most reasonable course bending time and space so that you don't have to give in," he told her in a long-suffering tone.

She gave him a razor thin smile. "You're just as stubborn as I am, Severus, or you would have given in first."

He laughed then, laughed despite the Headmaster on the ground and the future of the Order up in the air and despite the war raging around them. She laughed with him after a moment, delighted by the sound she hadn't heard in months.

"Come on, let's do this somewhere we won't run into anyone," Hermione suggested, a smile still on her face. "It's almost four- on the dot makes it easier for coordination."

Severus opened the door to the Headmaster's office for her, following her down the staircase, which reversed itself to accommodate them.

"I wonder what happens if someone's going down and someone else is going up at the same time?" Hermione asked, looking over her shoulder at Severus.

He shrugged. "It splits in two? It's bound to have happened at one point or another. Isn't the answer somewhere in Hogwarts, A History?"

Hermione thought for a moment, then shook her head. "It isn't," she said, reproof in her tone. "I'll have to alert the editor."

She had half-hoped to startle another guffaw out of him, but she knew that wasn't the way that Severus' humor worked. He wryly replied, "By gods, put it to the top of your list, Granger. Such an error needs immediate rectification."

In her swottiest tone, Hermione voiced her agreement. "I completely agree. I'll move the research that will contribute to the Dark Lord's demise to next week if I need to. Such a glaring flaw is not befitting of a book claiming to be a comprehensive history."

At least this time, she got a snort. Hermione let her smile spread to her face, glad that he was behind her. They came to the end of the staircase, and to her surprise Severus hastily skirted her so that he could open the door for her.

I am capable of opening it for myself, Hermione remarked in her own head. But if he wants to I suppose I won't stop him. "Thanks," she said, looking at him as she passed.

"You're welcome," he answered, acknowledging it to her surprise.

"Well," said Hermione, looking around the corridor. "I guess we should find a broom closet or something."

It was only when she looked at Severus and saw his raised eyebrows that she realized what she had said. "Oh, hush," she ordered him, color flooding her cheeks. "You know what I mean." It occurred to Hermione that very shortly she would be very close to this man, very close indeed, sharing the Time Turner's chain… part of her really hoped it wouldn't be magicked to stretch.

Severus started walking down the corridor, so fast that Hermione almost had to trot to keep up. She checked her watch and noted the time that they turned the corridor. "Don't be in that hallway before 3:57 AM," she told him, a little out of breath.

He glanced down at her, then immediately slowed. "My apologies," he murmured.

"It's your bloody legs," Hermione said, grateful for the slow down. She was tired, and her back was aching dreadfully. "Here we are."

The broom cupboard was nothing special- dustpans, a mop, and a bag of cat foot all shared the small space with Severus and Hermione. A quick spell gave them enough light to see each other's faces by, but that was all.

Being in such a small space with Severus made Hermione's mind spin like it did after two glasses of wine- it was because of his scent, maybe, or the fact that as she fumbled for the delicate hourglass she definitely caught him looking down her shirt.

"We'll need to get closer," she said, unaware that her voice dropped into a huskier register. Severus noted it, clenching his jaw. He took a step closer, then another. "I need to slip this chain over your neck too," she said, frowning. "How on earth are we going to get close enough to manage this?" It had worked fine with Harry, but they had been about the same height back then. She said as much to Severus, who sighed.

"Well, as you so put it so nicely earlier, my bloody legs are going to make this impossible," he snarled. "Why didn't you mention that the chain was so small?"

Hermione bit her lip, thinking. The one idea she came up with made her wince. Severus caught it, and glared. "Spit it out, Hermione," he said, gritting his teeth.

"Um- we've been about the same height a time or two," Hermione said hastily. "Like- um-"

She could see it on his face as he recalled when they had been at the same eye level. "I should pick you up, shouldn't I?" Severus asked, heaving a sigh.

"As if you were about to snog me against the door," she answered, making an attempt at their earlier shared humor. It fell flat, and she flushed.

Severus closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What did I do in a past life to deserve this?" he asked of no one in particular. "Or are my bad deeds in this life already catching up with me?"

There was a good handful of awkwardness as the two of them tried to recreate what had been so natural when the summer began. Once his hands had been so sure, once she had instinctively moved to make it easier for him, once they had been so synchronized.

"You might want to brace me against the door." Hermione said, her mind going back to earlier in the summer. "And- um, and I guess I'll wrap my legs around your waist."

Severus sighed again. "Well, come here, then." They positioned themselves so that Hermione's back was to the door; Severus put his hands on her waist, hesitated, then sighed once more for good measure. "Put your arms around my neck," he instructed. "Give yourself some leverage."

It felt so odd to wind her arms around his neck again, like old habit. She wanted to pull his head down to hers, kiss him, but she stopped herself. She couldn't stop herself from making a small squeak of surprise as his hands went to her bum, lifting her into the air.

Suddenly, she was there, looking directly into his eyes. "Hurry, Hermione," he said, and his breath touched her face.

As quickly as she could, Hermione looped the chain around Severus' neck, which brought their faces closer together. "How many hours?" she asked, cringing inside with the hope that her breath didn't smell.

"Eight," Severus said, a touch of impatience in his voice.

Eight turns she gave the hourglass, closing her eyes as time and space bent around them. Through the whole storm of time she was acutely aware of her nether regions pressed so intimately into him, of his hipbones digging into her thighs, of the warmth of him against her chest and the smell of his clothes.

At last time came to a halt, stilling around them. Carefully, Hermione unlooped the chain from around his neck, returning the Time Turner to its usual place between her breasts.

"There we go," she said quietly. "You can open your eyes, Severus." She was more accustomed than he to the subtle shift between being in the time stream and being outside it again.

His eyes opened slowly, and she smiled at him. His arms were tightly clasped around her, and he seemed at least a little reluctant to let go.

Sliding down his body back to the floor was almost as awkward as being hoisted on to him, but Severus and Hermione managed as they always had.

"Three minutes past four," she read from her watch. "Minus eight hours back into the future, now it's three minutes past eight in the evening. We can be back in Dumbledore's office after 3:58." Carefully, she reset the time on her watch.

Severus frowned at her. "How do you remember all of it?" he asked. "Every day, sometimes twice or three times a day?"

"It's been a part of my life for… for more years than I've cared to count now," Hermione said tiredly. "I'm supposed to be almost seventeen, but I started with the Time Turner four years ago, times two- I must be twenty one at least."

They were quiet, almost half asleep in the broom closet. "We should get some sleep," Hermione remarked sadly. "You're going to your quarters here, right?"

"No, actually," said Severus, in the process of setting back his watch. "I'm going to go the Room of Requirement. Dumbledore might see if I go into my rooms and I don't want to get involved with past him if I can help it."

"Oh," Hermione said. "I was going to use the Room, instead of going all the way back to Safe House Three."

Severus looked down his long nose at her. "It's a magical room, Hermione," he said, his voice with the slowness of one talking to a child or an idiot. "It has the space for two."

"First a broom closet, now the Room of Requirement," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Well, we've already done the Astronomy Tower, so why not?"

Instead of deigning to answer, Severus opened the door of the broom closet and gestured for her to exit it. He followed, shut the door, then started stalking off.

"Wait," Hermione called. "I have to ward it, and make sure no one uses it until we do tonight. It would be quite the shock, to open it and see us flickering in and out of time?"

Feeling quite useless, Severus watched her set up a quick series of protections. It was quite obvious that she had done it a hundred times, that she had thought through all of these precautions at the tender age of thirteen. He had helped her plan routes to her classes, but she had figured the rest of it out through trial and error. Or rather, just through careful forethought and planning that negated the possibility of an error.

"There we go," Hermione said, pronouncing the ward to her satisfaction. "And we should Disillusion ourselves too, no?'

"Of course," Severus said smoothly, tapping his head with his wand, and frowning as it felt like a cold egg cracked itself on the crown of his head.

Hermione swiftly disappeared from view. "After you," he heard her say, a smile in her voice.

They were glad of the charm on the way up to the Room of Requirement. Filch and Mrs. Norris passed by them, the cat following them with her eyes but doing nothing. On the fifth floor they saw a few ghosts, but other than them the castle was quiet.

"Shall you do the honors, or do you mind if I do?" asked Hermione when they reached the Room.

"Go ahead," he said quietly. There was just the sound of footsteps, and a simple door appeared.

The room that Hermione had wished for was actually two rooms, a bedroom and a bathroom. Two queen beds with fresh white sheets waited for them, along with a quietly crackling fire. In the other room was a simple toilet, shower, sink, and two tooth brushes and a tube of toothpaste.

"Thank goodness," Hermione said, appearing suddenly. "Do you need to use the bathroom, or can I take a shower?'

Severus shook his head, cancelling his own spell. "No, go ahead."

She disappeared in to the bathroom, and the shower started almost immediately. Severus took the chance to divest himself of his clothes, folding them neatly and laying them on a chair that conveniently appeared for him. Severus left his boxers but nothing else. She had seen his bare chest before; preserving modesty now did nothing but save their own stupid tender feelings.

He crawled into the bed farthest from the bathroom, turning on his side so that he wouldn't see her emerge from the shower. Hermione Granger would be the death of him.

He had done everything Dumbledore had ever asked from him, put himself in danger time and time again. He had only directly disobeyed a few times. When he had appeared in Dumbledore's office that fateful night Diggory had caught them to make his report after meeting with the Dark Lord, he had not expected what had awaited him.

The report finished, Severus had risen to leave, only to be waved back into his seat. Dumbledore had brought out his Pensieve, beckoned Severus closer to view the memories within. It was a memory of a meeting he had held in his office- Moody and Molly Weasley and Cedric Diggory and three or four other members of the Inner Circle.

Severus had watched impassively as they spoke to Dumbledore.

"She's getting dangerous."

"You should have never put a Death Eater in charge of her training."

"She's becoming just like him. Slytherin. Killing people, sneaking around."

"Why on earth did she need to learn how to use knives? There's no purpose to it and it bothers me that she walks around with those things in my house."

"I don't want her around Harry anymore."

"What if he turns her to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's side?"

"Have you seen the way she looks at people when she's mad at them?"

"And it's all Snape's doing, Headmaster."

"They are close, really close. They're together talking all the time at the Safe House and she likes him. I don't know how. He's really protective of her too."

"If there is something inappropriate going on there, Headmaster-"

"I don't know if there is, but if he's influencing her, grooming her-"

"She's only a girl!"

And then, the Headmaster's voice, grave and understanding. "I hear and understand all of your fears. I will take care of the matter."

There, in that office, Severus' blood had run cold. The Headmaster had shown him the lay of the land quite clearly, but still felt the need to lay it out in words that had assaulted his mind with their brutal calmness.

"… fear revolt from the Order if this continues…"

"… my dear boy, it is necessary you cut off all unnecessary communication with the girl…"

"… for your own good as well as hers…"

"… clouded judgement could cause an accident…"

"… I will not question your judgement and I know your heart rests with Lily, but it unhealthy for you both…"

"… would you have tried to drag Lily into your sordid world? Already she has killed- already she resents us for choosing us for this path and she will hate us and I will hate myself if her soul is tarnished beyond repair…"

"… we would not want her good name tarnished after this war is done, so she can live her life to the fullest…"

"… therefore I know you will not make me ask you to do what you need to do…"

He had sneered some kind of reply at the Headmaster, and left for his quarters, to shower and change. And then he had taken a moment to meditate, to bury all his feelings for Hermione Granger as deep as he possibly could, pushing them deeper and deeper and deeper before leaving to go see her, to do what he knew needed to be done. There had been a threat in Dumbledore's words, a quiet hint of a threat, but it was a threat against her nonetheless.

How could he bear it, how could she bear it, when everything about her relationship with him just served to put her in further danger, from everyone around them. Every time he saw her and yearned for her was another opportunity for the Dark Lord to find her in his mind. His influence had turned the Order against her, put her in danger from Dumbledore. And worst of all, her love for him put her in danger and put others in danger because it distracted her. Severus Snape was bad news for Hermione Granger, and that was all there was to it. Once he had firmly convinced himself of it, he went to her and broke her heart and his own.

It had been the easiest thing to choose words and actions to push her away, to make her mad, to make her cry. He just went back to a conversation they had had right after Christmas, where she had told him every reason why she had thought she wasn't important to him. So easy, too easy, she had handed him every insecurity he needed to destroy their relationship. The easiest and the hardest because every fiber of his being had told him to stop, to gather her to him while he still had the chance for forgiveness. But he had pushed through it, had lied to her and hurt her so that she would be safe, without him.

The world of Severus Snape had gone dark without her in it, but he reassured himself that it was for her own good. It was so that she would be safe from Dumbledore, so that she would be safe from the Dark Lord, so that he could protect her in the best way he could- by staying away.

And still, still she had gotten herself hurt. Still she had almost died. The Order liked her better now, that was true. But still he could see how much she was hurting- Hermione thought that she could hide it from him but he knew her better than that. One part of him was so proud that she wasn't giving into despair like he had sometimes, that she was still eating and sleeping some and even laughing sometimes. But he could see how much she was hurting, yes, he could almost feel it when she looked at him.

There had been anger and hurt directed at him, and he had taken it all because he deserved it. But then- then the damned woman had to go and twist it all around and say that she had failed him. She hadn't held on tightly enough.

Everything had told him to fall to his knees before her, to beg for her forgiveness, but the threats held him back. If there was one duty he had now, it was to keep her safe. It was to end this godforsaken war so that she wouldn't be hunted as a Mudblood, it was to keep his distance so Dumbledore would see no reason why an unfortunate accident should befall Hermione. But the damn woman kept trying to break his resolve. He didn't know what he would do about her.

But now… now things were inexplicably different. Dumbledore was lying cursed on a floor and the future of the Order was in his hands.

Severus closed his eyes and began to plan, ignoring the sounds of Hermione emerging from the shower and setting an alarm before slipping into the bed and extinguishing the light. He had a lot of thinking to do and only eight hours in which to do it, and catch some sleep.

When his eyes finally did close, it was to the far away sounds of Hermione's soft whuffling noises, something he had been quite sure he would never hear again.

And so ends Chapter 50.

Sorry that a doozy of a chapter- so very long and just one scene. It was super important though!

So, next chapter will be sometime in December. You know what? Christmas is on a Friday, so let's plan for that. Next Chapter, December 25.

Hermione, not turning to look at him, answered. "Come tonight, if you can get away," she replied, her voice just as low.

"Ten?" he suggested.

So that's that. Skip to the end if you want to avoid my personal life.

My Life: AHHHHHHHHH. So much shit to get done. I have two twenty page term papers due in the next two weeks, I have my article to write, I have so much volunteering and international house events... gods life is crazy right now. School is rough.

And my personal life is hellish too. Um... let's see... I've been diagnosed with depression, first of all. That's been rough. And it makes doing work harder.

And my best friend and roommate and platonic soulmate, well... we kissed. We more than kissed actually. So I've just figured out that I'm also way more bisexual that I thought I was (and more than my family would ever accept). Luckily things haven't been weird because we really do get each other. But she's just started dating a guy and I'm not dating anyone so things are really up in the air. And I'm still freaking the fuck out while also being very calm about it. If any of y'all have advice or want to offer an ear, I'm not the best at replying to messages (because of work and stress and forgetfulness) but I would really, really love some support.

So that's probably a lot more than you wanted to know about me... but no one in my RL knows, and I kind of use this last AN as my safe space/blog.

So, next chapter on Christmas, please review, and go check out my new stories!