Disclaimer: It all belongs to JKR. No infringement intended.

Rating: PG-13 for mild language.

Summary: A young girl flees her deepest fear, and finds herself face to face with the Potions Master in the dead of night. Time-travel.

Pairing: Severus/Hermione



Lightning Strikes



by Auror Borealis



Chapter 5



The next morning, Professor Dumbledore escorted Callie from her temporary accommodation in the hospital wing up to his office. Professor Snape arrived soon after, and Callie told them once more of the events immediately preceding her journey to the Hogwarts of 1998. The recitation was no more helpful than it had been the night before; Snape had no idea what the potion could be, and even less of what Granger – Professor Snape? He couldn't take that in – had been trying to do.

"Perhaps the Pensieve, Headmaster?"

"Just what I was thinking, if Miss Snape does not object."

Snape raised his eyebrow. Dumbledore was enjoying his discomfort.

"Have you ever used a Pensieve, Caledonia?" Snape asked the girl.

"No, Da – Professor. I've heard of them, of course, but I've never used one."

"Would you agree to allow Professor Dumbledore to extract your memories of last night, so that we might view them? We might be able to recognize a detail that will help us to send you home."

"Sure. It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No, my dear, it is painless." Dumbledore touched his wand to Callie's forehead. "Think about last night, everything that happened when you entered the Astronomy Tower, until you found yourself here. Yes, that should do it." Silver thread-like filaments seemed to burst from her head and disappear into the wand. He touched it to the surface of the Pensieve, which Snape had brought to the desk.

Callie was fascinated at the sight of her memories. The three of them stood off to the side, watching Hermione chant. Callie saw herself in the middle of the circle, shaking like a leaf. She knew this was only a memory, but the thunder booming overhead sounded so real…

A hand descended onto her shoulder. Her father, or her future father – time travel wreaked havoc on one's vocabulary – was gripping her comfortingly. Dumbledore beamed. And then they were back in his office.

Snape shook his head. "I simply don't know, Professor," he told Dumbledore. The admission was obviously not an easy one; he was scowling dreadfully. "You said that Miss Granger – your mother – proposed the idea?"

Callie nodded.

"And whatever it was, she could not possibly reproduce it, or reverse it, at this time in her life. I'm sorry, Caledonia."

"It's okay, Professor." Her father looked like he could use a hug, she thought. But he also looked as though he would have a stroke if she tried to give him one right now. He had changed very little physically, but much had changed otherwise.



More permanent, or at least more comfortable, arrangements were made for Callie, for whatever time she should be with them. It was decided that, since the physical resemblance was very pronounced, she should be introduced as a 'young relative' of Snape's, which was certainly true enough. An unused bedroom in his quarters was furnished for her use, and after the session with the Pensieve, he escorted her to the dungeons. Unlike her father's physical appearance, his living quarters had changed a great deal in seventeen years. In her own time, the decor was still muted, no bright colors to be seen anywhere, but this was far more spartan than the rooms that she had grown up in. The spare bedroom turned out to be her own, although the conjured furnishings bore no resemblance to those her mother had chosen for her. Since Callie had become a Hogwarts student, the bedroom had become an office for her mother, except during the summer. She lived in Hufflepuff now, after all. But the sight of this room still made tears well up in her eyes. She wanted to go home.

Lunchtime came, and with it a dilemma. Callie had no desire to sit with the Slytherins for meals, but as a 'guest' of the Head of Slytherin House, she did not see how this could be avoided. Her father, who did not wish to put her in with the Slytherins for reasons that he did not share with her, provided a solution during Potions with the 7th year Gryffindors and Slytherins.

"Miss Granger. I tire of having to tell you not to assist Mr. Longbottom. If he has not acquired a basic grasp of the art and science of potions by now, the blame is to be laid at your door. You have obstructed his education long enough. Remain after class to arrange the details of your detention."

Hermione was floored. It had been difficult to sit in the Potions classroom this morning, knowing that the man making her and her friends' lives unpleasant for these few hours twice a week, and as often as possible outside the class, it seemed, was the father of the child she would someday have. Hermione could not imagine such a thing happening, ever. Ron was not speaking to her, and over something she had not done yet. And now Snape was punishing her for helping Neville, when she had not so much as spoken to Neville since class had begun? The injustice of it was almost beyond bearing.

Harry waited for her in the corridor. Ron was gone; he had pushed past Harry without so much as a word, as soon as the lesson ended. Hermione finally came out, accompanied by a younger girl wearing plain black robes. Hermione was smiling.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Caledonia Snape. She's my detention."

Harry gave Hermione a puzzled look, but smiled at the girl. "You don't look like a Snape, Caledonia."

"Call me Callie; only my – only Professor Snape calls me Caledonia," she said. "And since I am a Snape, this is what one looks like." She gestured to herself. "I don't see how I could look like anything else."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," said Harry. "But your…" He waved toward the Potions classroom.

"It's a complicated relationship. I just call him my cousin," she answered. Once again, this was close to the truth; their relationship was complicated, if by nothing else than the fact that she was here right now, more than four years before her birth. And she was calling him cousin, at Dumbledore's suggestion.

"It's no secret he and I are not each other's biggest fans."

Callie gave him a sad smile. That was one thing that would not change in the future. The charged animosity between them had faded, but the two men would never be comfortable in each other's company.

"And you definitely don't look like my idea of a detention," Harry continued.

Callie could feel a blush rising. Was this young Harry as accomplished a flirt as his son, she wondered? The Potter twins, 4th year Gryffindors in Callie's time, were a charismatic pair, the boy with auburn hair and green eyes, the girl with unruly black hair and those same eyes. Neither had any need to wear glasses, of course; their eyesight had been magically enhanced when they were small children. Their younger sister, a first year, was a beautiful, porcelain-skinned, auburn-headed angel who looked as though she would outshine her sister when she grew older. They seemed to have no trouble shouldering the expectations that went along with their daunting legacy, Callie often thought enviously.

"Can I escort you lovely ladies to lunch?" He performed a graceful yet exquisitely funny bow, and offered each girl an arm. Yep, this is where Andrew gets it, Callie sighed.



Callie sat between Harry and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, after heading by force of habit for the long table occupied by the members of Hufflepuff House. Hermione had grabbed her arm and hauled her away just in time. It felt strange to be amongst the Gryffindors. As a first year, she had hoped that this would be her house, but when the sorting had put her into Hufflepuff, she discovered that she was relieved, rather than disappointed. Hufflepuff wouldn't cause friction between her parents; it had no long-standing rivalry with Slytherin. And thank the gods it wasn't Slytherin. That was really all that mattered. Callie's back had been to the teacher's table when she was sorted, and she couldn't see that her father's face also showed relief. Having spent his Hogwarts career in the most infamous house, he didn't wish the same on his daughter. Hufflepuff would make her happy, he was sure.

Ron Weasley sat across from them, and he scowled at Callie. The tension at the table was immediately apparent. Harry was bewildered by the hostility between his two best friends. Ron had stormed into their room early this morning, not bothering to be quiet. His rage was obvious, but he had refused to say a word on its cause. Well, one mystery solved, he thought; it's to do with Hermione. No surprise there; they often argued. But this was more intense than anything he'd ever seen between them. Next to him, Snape's little cousin seemed to shrink in her seat. She could barely eat. Watching the girl out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione's hand take Callie's under the table, and give it a reassuring squeeze. Had Ron met this girl? And why was he behaving as though he hated her? Granted, it was hard to think of liking anyone related to Snape, but Callie seemed nice enough. Something was going on, and he was going to find out what it was.



Hermione invited Callie to tag along after lunch to Care of Magical Creatures. She knew Hagrid wouldn't mind, and she was right. The lesson involved trimming unicorn hooves, a delicate process not only because the unicorns weren't inclined to allow many people to touch them, but because the hoof trimmings had powerful magical properties, and had to be trimmed in a way that didn't damage these properties.

Hagrid asked for a volunteer to help him demonstrate, and Callie's hand went into the air. The girl's enthusiasm delighted Hagrid. No one else volunteered. No one else wanted to risk being kicked, or worse, snubbed by the unicorn.

Hagrid had Callie hold the unicorn's foot while he trimmed the hoof, and she picked it up properly, with due respect toward the animal, and without hesitation. Hagrid was impressed. Girls always loved the unicorns, but often shied away from tasks such as this one. He asked her if he wanted to trim the next hoof, and she did so, quickly and efficiently. She also trimmed the remaining two, placing the trimmings in a box with the others. The unicorn snorted its thanks, allowed himself to be petted for a few minutes, and trotted away.

"Yeh've got a way with animals, Callie," Hagrid said. She beamed; it was high praise, coming from Hagrid.

Hermione left to escort Callie back to Snape's quarters, and Harry grabbed Ron's arm and asked him to take a walk with him. Ron shrugged Harry's arm away and told him to sod off. Harry was stunned. This had gone far enough.

Out of sight of Hagrid's, Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ron. "We're going for a walk, in that direction, now," he pointed away from the school, "or I'm going for a walk in the Forbidden Forest, towing your petrified self along with me. Which is it?"

Ron gave Harry a venomous look, but struck off away from the school, towards the lake. Harry followed. He gave Ron a few minutes to calm down before speaking.

"Why do you hate that girl?"

Ron sat down on the shore of the lake. He pulled a Chocolate Frog out of his bag, ripped it open, tucked the card back into his bag, and threw the Chocolate Frog into the lake. A giant, glistening tentacle broke the surface of the water and caught it.

"I don't hate her. Well, not her, exactly. But she shouldn't even exist."

What the hell? Harry thought.

"How can you say that about someone you don't even know? What's she done to you? And what's Hermione got to do with it?"

Ron laughed nastily. "What doesn't Hermione have to do with it? I thought she loved me, Harry." He stared out over the water, the look on his face the bleakest Harry had ever seen.

"Don't change the subject, Ron."

"I didn't. It's exactly the point."

"Ron, help me out here. Last night, you dragged Hermione off to who knows where for a snog."

"The Astronomy Tower."

"Whatever. Then you come stomping in like a mountain troll with my wand up its nose, won't even speak to me, and this morning you're furious with Hermione, and you wish some girl you've never met didn't exist. I'm a bit confused here."

"You're a bit nosy, is what you are."

Harry looked hurt.

"Well, really, Harry, it's true. You do always have to know what's going on, even if it doesn't concern you."

"Well, fine, if you don't want to tell me, don't. But quit with the martyred act, whatever it's for. You're unbearable when you get like this, you know. You'd think you're three years old sometimes."

To Harry's surprise, Ron grinned. "I'm glad we had this little chat, really. I wanted to say that to you for a long time."

Harry sat down next to him. "Same here."

They sat for awhile, saying nothing, until Ron sighed.

"I'm not supposed to say; McGonagall promised me detention until I graduate. But you'll find out anyway; you always do. She's Hermione's daughter."

"You've bloody gone mad, you have."

"I just might, at that. She traveled here from somewhere in the future. We found her in the Astronomy Tower last night. She's Hermione's daughter."

"Wow." Harry let this information sift through his brain for a moment. "But why can't you stand her? I would think you'd be inclined to like any child of Hermione's."

"Two reasons. First, she's not Snape's cousin. She's his daughter. His and Hermione's." He nodded knowingly at the look of shock crossing Harry's face. "Yep. Exactly. And the second, and more important reason that I don't like her – or the idea of her – is that she isn't mine."

"Oh." The implications of this sank in.

"I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose Hermione, but obviously, I'm going to. And to him, of all people. I want to kill him, Harry."

The tears started then.

"Callie should be mine, not Snape's."

Harry knew there was nothing he could say to comfort his friend. They sat there until the sun sank below the horizon.