The letter landed on Severus' lap very softly. He looked up to see Clitios, one of the family ravens. At least his family had enough sense not to use owls as messengers. Owls were so messy. Looking around at his fellow students he could see some of them picking the letters from the bowls and glasses. Monica Rowling had to dig her letter out of the middle of an apple-pie.
Severus loosened the black ribbon his mother used to tie her letters with and two pieces of parchment rolled out. One was from his mother. Another list of potions she expected him to master and another list of books she required him to memorise. Nothing unusual. She had thought Professor Monday to be a barely qualified teacher and Severus had to agree with her opinion. He finished his Potions education when he reached his fourth year in Hogwarts and there was nothing more Professor Monday could teach him. These days Severus was acting as Monday's assistant and, sometimes, as a substitute. Cornelia Canetti-Snape, however, wasn't going to let her son's education stop at this point. You want something done, do it yourself, was her motto.
It was the second letter that surprised him. He recognised the ornate handwriting in an instant, although he rarely had a chance to see it. Severia. She never wrote, unless something very important was up. In fact it was only the second time she had ever written him. The message was short, more of a note than a letter.
Severus,
I need you to practise intensely. During your Christmas holidays I would need you to gain certain information from one of my kind. Not sympathetic to our cause and very suspicious, but a relatively young one. It will be your unofficial initiation; do not disappoint me. Your parents and I hope you will prove yourself worthy of all the trouble we all went through to prepare you.
Severia.
Of course Severia, he thought bitterly. What else do I live for than to do what you have prepared me for? He looked briefly at the teacher's table where Professor Andermin, the Head of Slytherin, was calmly eating his vegetables. The thought of rebelling against Severia and his parents crossed his mind, but it was gone in an instant. After all it was supposed to be an 'unofficial' initiation. Just gathering information. Not receiving the Dark Mark yet. He met Professor's eyes. The Professor nodded to him, and Severus discreetly raised his glass in a silent toast. His last Dreaming was very successful, although he wasn't sure if the Professor would be so glad knowing that he had used the Scarlet Elixir afterwards.
He noticed that Professor McGonagall was absent. Strange, she was always there, next to Professor Andermin. Something must have happened to make her miss the first glimpse of the day on her precious Gryffindors.
As if hearing his thoughts, Alicia Wilkes, sitting across the table, commented, "McGonagall is gone. Wonder if there is a chance that Gryffindors would lose some housepoints."
At this Severus shot a hateful look at the Gryffindor table. Just yesterday Sirius Black caused him to lose twenty points from Slytherin for hexing Pettigrew's owl at breakfast. He was set up; Black knew that Severus' instinctive response at being startled was hexing. The students knew better than to try sneaking around Severus Snape. The owl ended up as the legless, wingless, and headless body right under Professor McGonagall's nose. It took some effort to find the rest of owl's body-parts and put them back together.
Black was grinning like an idiot, reading the letter he received, and saying something to Potter. Probably another admirer was inviting him to Hogsmeade for a weekend. Dark circles under his eyes, however, were showing that Severus had done a thorough job in his Dreaming. The sight of Potter, cheerfully bantering with Evans, took away the rest of the appetite Snape still had after reading Severia's message. Potter had no right to be cheerful, while Victoria was dead and cold!
Robert Lestrange nudged him, trying to get his attention.
"What?" Severus snapped.
"Easy, Snape, no need to be jumpy. I heard that we're going to have a new student. A transfer. I heard Professor Flitwick say that he hopes she would be sorted - "
"Fascinating," Severus cut Lestrange's speech short. "Anything else that's going to change my life forever?"
"You're no fun, Snape."
"And I suppose you are?" Severus gave him an ironic look and then he transferred his gaze at Monica, raising an eyebrow. Robert and Monica were inseparable and, generally, they sticked to each other, not allowing anybody else to share their inner jokes and pleasures. Severus wondered why Lucius Malfoy had chosen Robert Lestrange as his spy-boy, since the only thing Robert seemed to have eyes for was Monica.
"Aren't you curious at all?"
"I am curious about many things, Lestrange, but whatabouts of yet another student is not one of them. I know some four hundred students and I dare say it's four hundred too many."
"Should I be offended...?" Robert asked, not sure how to take Snape's words.
"By all means, Lestrange. If this would stop you from nagging me."
"Oh, leave him alone, Robert!" Monica cut in. "Better tell me what have you planned for today, are we going to Hogsmeade?"
Robert shrugged and turned to more pleasant subjects. Severus decided he had enough socialising, but then his eyes fell on the letters he had in his hand.
He should practice. Since the beginning of the year he didn't do it, all his partners having graduated. Somebody new would have to be found. The thought made Severus wince with dislike. There just wasn't anybody suitable. The Slytherin girls in his year were out of the question -- he had to spend with them too much time; his secret would be out and he had no desire to become the subject of that kind of gossip. Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs would be too troublesome with all this attachment issue; discretion was not their biggest advantage either. So either younger Slytherins or Ravenclaws. He looked towards the blue-and-bronze decorated table, sizing the older girls up. Unfortunately, like on every Saturday morning (eleven hour on Saturday was still considered morning) there wasn't many of them at the table.
It was that moment when his train of thought was broken by two figures passing along the Ravenclaw table up to the head of the Gryffindor table. It was McGonagall, escorting the new student. Severus didn't catch the girl's face, all he could see was long, dark brown braid, as she was being introduced to Lily Evans, the Head Girl. Nothing very interesting. Snape returned to his contemplation of Ravenclaw girls.
"Lily, this is Hermia Rogers; she was transferred to Hogwarts from Maori Institute and sorted into Gryffindor, sixth year. I hope you will make her feel welcome."
Hermione was still slightly shocked by everything that had happened in the last three hours. She had found herself twenty years in the past. First five seconds after she had been told the date by Dumbledore in his office she had spent cursing herself for that cursory glance she had given the Time Tuner before she had pushed the starter. Next time she would have to not only check if everything was set, but if everything was set correctly.
Next ten minutes she had spent staring numbly at the wall, after being stunned with the information that the Time Tuners didn't exist in this time at all. She should have known, though. She had always been given experimental items.
Then she saw possibilities of the situation and tried to speak to Dumbledore about Voldemort. Only to have her efforts dismissed with a grave shake of Headmaster's head. He forbade her to speak about the past... that is, the future... He refused to listen. 'Destiny works it's own ways, Hermione. There is no way you could change the destiny, so leave everything as it is. No matter what you say, no matter what you do, the outcome will be the same. It might be achieved in a slightly different manner, but it will be the same nonetheless. We are but mortals, it is not up to us to challenge the Fate.'
So here she was, standing with a strained smile in front of Lily Evans, Harry's mum. She had a new name (kind of) and a hastily cooked-up story about her transfer to Hogwarts and she was facing the prospect of spending an indefinite amount of time in the past. Until they figure how to send her back. Or rather forward. Or whatever.
While Professor McGonagall, looking no less stern in her younger years, was making introductions, Hermione was making an effort not to stare at Lily and not to compare her brilliantly emerald eyes to Harry's. They were exactly the same! When McGonagall left, Hermione felt so depressingly desolate that some of her feelings must have come to her face, for Lily hugged her.
"Don't worry, Hermia," she said. "It will be all right. We will have you installed in no time, you'll see. There is seven sixth-year girls in Gryffindor, you will find new friends! And you can always come to me if something is wrong..."
Hermione collected herself and smiled at Lily, trying not to notice the stares of other people around. It was so embarrassing!
"I'm sorry, I guess it's because of stress," she apologised. "This... transfer... was rather unexpected. Everything happened so quickly." She sat next to Lily, at her invitation.
"First let me introduce you to those..."
"I'm Sirius!" Hermione saw an outstretched hand right before her eyes. Looking up, she met the face she would have never recognised. Sirius looked very differently from his older self. It was not only the matter of age; the attitude was something completely else. He was devilishly handsome with his short, wavy dark brown hair and tanned complexion. Self-assured, grinning, mischievous glint in his blood-shot eyes (probably long night, Hermione thought amused), he reminded her of the Weasley twins. She shook his hand, unable to withhold a grin too. Sirius' good mood was contagious.
"Hermia Rogers."
"Nice to meet such a beautiful lady..."
"Slowly, Sirius," another voice interrupted. "You will scare her with your, ahem, attitude." Hermione saw a face so much like Harry's that it was weird. She knew already who was that. The words "Potter. James Potter," were only a confirmation.
James looked like Harry, thin, messy hair and all, but his behaviour was not much like his son's. He was much more sure of himself -- there was no hint of Harry's shyness behind the round glasses. It was clear that James was popular and handling his popularity well.
"What you see now is only a half of the wildest quartet in Hogwarts," Lily informed her. "If you feel up to it, we can take you to Hogsmeade to meet the rest, there is this wonderful shop..." Another little fact to remind her how out of place -- or rather out of time -- she was. She pushed the starter of the Time Tuner on Tuesday, but she landed on Saturday. Hermione idly wondered how many years it takes to complete the week cycle. She had never thought of counting that.
"Ah, I think I will pass," she replied to Lily's question. "I'm a little bit confused about everything," and that's the understatement of the century, "and I'd like to, um.. look around, you know..."
"Sure." Lily stood up, ready for the action. "We shall go looking for Mary Bale, she's the sixth-year prefect. I think she hadn't left for Hogsmeade yet. She would be the best person to start with, since you want to get settled in... So what school do you come from, again?"
"Maori Institute." She stood up also and followed Lily to the exit of the Great Hall. Sirius and James were right behind them.
"Er... and that is...?"
"In New Zealand."
James whistled. "Pretty far away!"
"Hey, don't monopolise her time, Lil!" Sirius exclaimed, sounding a little disappointed that she wouldn't be going with them to Hogsmeade. "We want her too! She would be such a lovely companion on our raid on Zonko's..."
"Sure you want her, Sirius." James laughed. "C'mon, Laura just asked you to meet her in front of Zonko's... be more mature, buddy!"
"Oh, and you are the adult one..." Sirius sniggered. "Just a month ago Lily thought she was - "
"Shut up, Sirius!" Lily got angry, all of the sudden. "This is not a laughing matter!"
Hermione was watching the exchange with interest, but didn't feel like asking what was this all about. James saved the moment by kissing Lily lightly on the mouth.
"It just shows how childish Sirius is, Lil. We would have got along with whatever fabulously. We are mature enough."
The realisation dawned upon Hermione and she went crimson. Did they really...? Wow. She had never seriously thought about it, her 'relationship' with Viktor Krum being over before it even started. She knew Parvati and Lavender liked to experiment with boys, but she didn't think they were that far... but then Lily and James were seventh-years, so...
"Potter mature?" Somebody's cold voice brought her back to reality. "It's an oxymoron."
Hermione swirled around, surprised. There, leaning against the wall, with his arms folded across his chest, stood a vaguely familiar figure. She was racking her brains trying to pin the face down to the name.
"Sod off, Snape." Sirius almost spat. Hermione almost gaped. Before she came down to the Great Hall, she was aware that she would meet Lily and James and their friends, but she had totally forgotten about Snape. Probably because it was hard to imagine that Snape could have ever been a teenager. Seeing him now was the most strange feeling she had ever experienced in her life.
Hermione shivered when Snape's black eyes brushed over her, evaluating her. She felt like a bacteria under microscope for a moment, before Snape broke the eye contact.
"Temper, Black." His voice was almost like she had remembered it from the Potions class. Soft and rich. Velvety, yet sharp, vibrating with sensual undertones. "What is it? Didn't sleep well?" He drawled maliciously.
Sirius eyed him suspiciously. The tension could be cut with the knife, and Hermione squirmed. She cleared her throat, attempting to distract Snape. The strategy worked and their eyes locked again. This time Snape held her gaze for several seconds, making her throat go dry. Just like in the Potions class, she was suddenly aware of every inch of her skin, of her disorderly braided hair with the ends brushing her neck. But unlike in the class, he didn't look away.
"What are you staring at, Snape?" James snapped.
"Something more interesting than you, Potter." Snape narrowed his eyes, glancing at James. "You can't stand not being the centre of the attention, can you? Go ahead, bed another Slytherin girl and get her killed, perhaps then your ego will - "
Lily raised her hand as if to slap Snape, but James stopped her. He was pale and ready to erupt, but Sirius was first to voice his anger. Hate beneath the words was unmistakable. This war was way beyond the one Harry and Ron had with Draco Malfoy, Hermione thought.
"One more word, Snape, and we will think up something more incriminating than this owl, yesterday. You will never know what hit you and you will be out of here, you greasy - "
"Yes, yes, yes. Try to be more inventive with your threats, Black, you're repeating yourself." Again, his eyes drifted to Hermione. "Who are you?"
Hermione had to overcome the dryness in her throat first. "Hermia Rogers. Transfer from New Zealand."
That seemed to catch his interest. "Maori?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"I heard they have the best Potions Master in the world teaching there, Hiroshi Asada. Did he teach you?"
Hermione's brain went blank; the name told her nothing. She recalled Professor Dumbledore referring to Snape as the best Potions Master in the world, so she nodded again. After all she was taught by the best, so it was only a half-lie.
"Well, what a shame."
She blinked. "Why?"
"It will be wasted here. Professor Monday is nowhere this level. In fact, he's - "
"Snape, don't you have some lizards to skin alive?" Sirius hissed. "If you don't get your sorry arse from here this second - "
"Threats again, Black? And you're surprised the girl prefers to talk with me? Where's the rest of your pack anyway, you won't be able to pull anything on me on your own." This time Snape didn't even look at him, still observing Hermione. He snapped his fingers. "Ah, where are my manners? I am Severus Snape." He hold out a hand. Hesitantly, she shook it, feeling an electric impulse go down her spine. His grip was firm, but slightly cool, as though he was outside in the cold weather. She took some time to regard him.
He was almost as tall as his older counterpart, and just as lean. His Hogwarts robe, with a silver-and-green prefect's badge pinned to it, was unbuttoned and hung around his stark-black garments with fluid grace. His face was pale, with an aquiline nose and rather sensual lips. How come she had never before noticed he had sensual lips? The contrast between the paleness of his skin and the blackness of his long, hanging past his shoulders, limp hair was even more accented when his face was so young.
Feeling incredibly stupid, Hermione withdrew her hand. She saw he was ready to go and couldn't help but be a little irritated at Sirius' rude interruption of their short conversation. Hearing about her new Professors certainly qualified as getting to know the school better than him trying to talk her into going to Hogsmeade.
"I would warn you about fraternising with that lot, Rogers," his tone indicated great contempt for the trio that was just opening their mouths to tell him where to get off, "but since you already are a Gryffindor, I guess you won't have much choice, even if you wanted to avoid them. More the pity."
He turned around and went out of the Great Hall, not sparing them another glance.
James and Sirius looked after him angrily, but Lily shook her head in amazement.
"He talked to you civilly," she noted, and began to play with the sleeves of her robe nervously. "Hermia, stay away from him. I mean... really stay away. He's dangerous."
Sirius and James nodded in agreement.
"He's the biggest slimy bastard in school." Sirius informed her. "A Slytherin prefect. You know what he did to Peter's owl just yesterday? He relieved it of the head and the limbs. Just because it bat it's wings too loudly."
"He loves making us miserable," James finished.
"But you know what?" Sirius grinned. "We love making him miserable too."
Hermione rolled her eyes, refusing to be scared off by Snape's reputation. "Men. Everywhere the same."
"Aren't they?" Lily laughed. The heavy atmosphere vanished, replaced by original merriment. "I'll take you to the dorms... no boys, it's the way for girls only. Go to Zonko's or something. Bring Remus and Peter along."
Hermione was ushered to the corridors she knew so well, but ones she found disconcertingly unfamiliar. Well, all this situation would take some time to get used to. And maybe it wouldn't be that bad.
Chilly air on the top of Astronomy Tower was cooling Snape's head, as he was waiting for the drops of rain to fall. What had just happened? Why did he feel compelled to come here, wishing for the calm of the rain to soothe him? Why wasn't he heading to his room instead, where the thin book, 'The Alternate Reality of the Dream', for which he begged Professor Andermin for so long, awaited him?
Severus clenched and unclenched his right hand. His skin where he touched this Rogers girl was tingling. What the hell had made him approach them? Well, he had to rub those content smiles off Black's and Potter's faces, but there was something about this new student...
At first he saw nothing interesting about her. Than he noticed how rigid her back was when she was being introduced to the Head Girl. She didn't relax immediately under Evans' charm, which was rather unusual. Evans' smile seemed to melt the biggest icebergs, even some of the Slytherin ones. Then he saw her laughing at that clown Black.
She was attracting his attention every couple of seconds until he could no longer measure up the Ravenclaw girls. So he quit and went over to the object of his interest.
She had the most amazing eyes he had ever seen. Chocolate brown. Deep. Sparkling with raw intelligence. She didn't escape his gaze; she hold him captivated with the strength he couldn't explain. As if she had known something about him he wasn't aware of himself. Most peculiar.
Pity she was just a Gryffindor.
He had more important things to think about. Mother's and Father's expectations. Letter form Severia. Developing his skill in Oneiromancy. His addiction to Scarlet Elixir.
She was just a Gryffindor.
