This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 2 – A New Life

For two months, Hermione had been living the life of Lucy Troy; a plain simple Muggle, trying to earn a living in the cruel hard world of Muggle-life. She had moved to Liverpool when she had fled; London was too obvious and Edinburgh or Glasgow were too close for comfort. She had briefly considered running to South Wales where she had holidayed a number of times as a child, until the advert for a trainee librarian in a discarded Liverpool Echo had caught her eye. She had gotten off the train in Lime Street and walked to the Central Library with her Muggle 'Qualifications' in hand.

GCSE's and A-levels? She remembered something about them from what her parents had used to tell her when they wanted her to be a dentist, like them. She had a number of certificates with A's on them and she wrinkled her nose in annoyance, Git, she thought, I could have done a lot better than Acceptable, Malfoy! She had looked through the papers a number of times on the train journey from Glasgow to Manchester and then on to Liverpool. As well as ten GCSE's and four A-Level's she had an excellent reference from a Mr M. Draco, a teacher at her 'previous' school, an explanation of her life before she left school – as if I'm following that drivel! – and another reference from a Mr. H. Potter, her previous employer at Defensive Attack Sports Wear – guys, I swear I'm gonna hex you both… if I ever get to see you again.

She had flown through the interview process; by that afternoon, she had a job and by the evening, she had a house share with another young girl who also worked at the library.

The first few weeks were hard on Hermione. Since she had turned seventeen, she had been free to use magic whenever in the Muggle world and had travelled by apparition. Now she was forced to cook and clean like everyone else, and just like everyone else she had to use public transport. She despised public transport. It was unreliable and unkempt; her bus to work was always over crowded and stank of stale vomit and sweat. She hated Muggle life now and was praying for the day when she would see the witches and wizards she saw daily throughout the city dancing with glee and owls flying all over with glad tidings and joy. She hoped that that day would be soon; she missed her wand, which was tucked away safely in its box in her room. As she waited in line to board her bus that morning, she noticed a couple of oddly dressed people. She smiled wistfully knowing who they were, she wished she could go and converse with them, ask them what was happening with the War, but she didn't dare. If anyone knew where she was, it would be her end.

Her bus ride that day was frustrating as usual, no one offered her a seat, teenagers on their way to school smoked and swore, and she was pushed and knocked one way and then the other as people moved off and on the dirty machine. She ground her teeth – something she never did – as the contraption finally pulled up to her stop. She jumped off with relief and took in a deep breath. The fumes from the bus caught her nose as it spluttered and drove off. She coughed violently and her stomach lurched. She hadn't felt well at all the past couple of days and was grateful when she got a smile from the busy receptionist as she took a call, motioning that she would just be a moment. Finally, the call ended and Hermione was greeted with a warm and friendly 'how can I help?'

'I'm here to see Dr Carrado,' she smiled back at the woman behind the glass. 'Lucy Troy, nine am.'

'If you could just take a seat the doctor will be with you shortly.'

Nodding her thanks she walked into the waiting room and picked a chair as close to the corner as possible, away from the majority of the other women. Her hormones had been swinging of late and today she was in a hideous mood – although the bus ride hadn't helped.

Finally, after twenty minutes of waiting, her name was called and she was whisked inside a cheerful yellow room.

'Right, Miss Troy, if you could just pop behind the screen, change into the gown and hop on the bed, thanks.' The doctor cooed sweetly. Hermione did as she was instructed and nestled back against the cool, uninviting bed. The doctor came back and picked up what looked like a funny shaped microphone and smeared it with a clear gel. 'Okay, this might be a little cold,' she smiled as she placed it on the exposed midriff from the gown Hermione wore. Hermione inhaled sharply. A bit cold! My arse! She bit her lip, as the cold made her stomach quiver. Suddenly a noise started from the machine next to her.

'What's that?' she enquired looking at the machine that was connected to the apparatus roaming over her stomach.

'That's the heart beat,' the doctor smiled. 'Its very strong, that's a good sign.'

'No, I meant what's that?' this time she pointed to the screen where a blurred black and white mass appeared.

'That, Miss Troy, is your baby.'

She had walked to work from the doctors, it was cold and wet, but she fought against the wind and rain, wrapping her coat tightly around her and bringing her umbrella closer to her head. Although she had known for a couple of weeks, she still couldn't believe that she was pregnant – three months pregnant, the doctor had advised her. She had to have been Obliviated, or some other form of memory charm had been placed on her and the first name she thought of had been Severus Snape. There was only one point in time that she didn't remember over the last three months and that was the night he had been found out as a spy. She didn't recall any details of their 'original' break up, or the rest of the evening that the 'detention' had taken – four or five hours in total. Although she was worried that she had memories missing, the more perplexing point on her mind was the exact identity of the father of the child. She was a logical person so she would do the logical thing – she was going to find out.

The following Saturday Hermione jumped on a rather nice train to Newport in Devon before catching a lovely airy village bus to Lamerton, where she would have to make the rest of the journey on foot. She began climbing a familiar hill and rested at the top, taking a deep drink of the water she had remembered to bring. She looked around at the beautiful fresh countryside that seemed to reach into the eternities. If it hadn't been for the fact that there were wizarding families in the area who had children she knew, she would have had no hesitation in moving to the area when she had left and certainly none when she had heard of her pregnancy. However, with the Death Eaters on the look out for her she didn't want to run the risk of placing anyone she knew in danger. She refused to perform even the slightest magic in the fear that they would trace it and find her, hence her long and exhausting trip.

After she felt rested and refreshed she merrily continued on her way, following a recognised pathway she ambled carefree through a small wood, across a brook and looked lovingly at the beautiful house before her. She had never been so happy to see The Burrow and longed to venture inside and say hello to everyone, sample Molly's cooking and joke with Ron. However, she couldn't. She was here to see one person and one person only; the others would never even know that she had been here.

She knew that on Saturday afternoons, just after lunch, Mr. Weasley would potter about in his garage playing with his Muggle artefacts; she had brought him a wind up mouse toy that would keep him entertained for days as he watched its behaviour and then pulled it apart to see how it worked. She knew that it was almost a bribe, but she had to do this, she had to know the answers.

Creeping around the edge of the property she found herself at the backdoor of the garage and knocked lightly. After much noise and scrapping a rather dirty looking red head opened the door and was shocked to see a fresh faced, bushy haired Hermione smiling at him.

'Good Grief!' he exclaimed. 'Hermione Granger as I live and breathe, what on this green earth are you doing here? More importantly, where have you been?'

'Hello Mr. Weasley,' she smiled at him, she hadn't heard her own name in over two months. 'May I come inside?'

'Inside this great dirty place? No, no, come over the house,' he started to step outside the door but she placed her hands on his chest, pushed him back in to the dim garage, and closed the door behind her.

'No Mr. Weasley, I can't.' she stared at him soberly. 'I'm afraid that if I do I'll never leave, and then you'll all be in great danger. I fear that I may have already done that, but I had to come and see you. I need your help.' Mr. Weasley looked her over. There was something different about her that much was sure. It took him a number of minutes before he realised what it was.

'-she would just want to keep me here and I can't-'

'Good grief!' he interrupted Hermione's ramblings, 'You're pregnant!' Hermione paled and starred at him open mouthed. 'I'd know a pregnant woman from fifty feet. How… who is… when did…' he stumbled before quietening. Hermione bowed her head so that he couldn't see her face as she pulled herself together. This was not going as she had planned. 'This is why you left?' He finally asked.

'No,' she managed before taking in a deep cleansing breath and facing him again. 'Perhaps we should sit down.' He led her to a stool and helped her take the seat before pulling one up for himself. Slowly she began her tale that led her to this point; remembering to leave out where she had ran to and what she was actually doing. She couldn't leave him with that information.

'So will you help me?' she finished quietly.

'Hermione,' he started, pausing to find the right words, it was certainly a conundrum. 'I understand your right to want to know what has happened to you, but what if you don't want to know? What if, after I remove the charm, you want to forget again? I mean, it might have been you that asked for this, or what you might face might be too disturbing or too much for you to handle. What then? Once an Obliviation has been reversed, it can't be placed back again.'

'I need to know the father of my child.' She stated simply. 'I can't have a child and not know whose it is and the more I leave it the more I desire to know. To me I have never engaged in a physical relationship and I feel that I have the right to know who my first was.'

'What if it was a rape?'

'Don't be silly, if I was raped, surely the Order would know. I would have been under Order protection if Death Eaters had kidnapped me, plus, it wouldn't just be a few hours lost.'

'Not if it was another student who did it and also Obliviated you.'

'Then in that case I really want to know, because then I'd hunt the bastard down and bloody Obliviate him into Oblivion!' She spat. 'I need to know this, Mr. Weasley, for my own peace of mind.'

Sighing Mr Weasley reluctantly agreed. 'You may feel a little bit disorientated as I do this, and you'll have a mighty headache afterwards, but you'll be okay once it passes.' Standing behind her he raised her wand and uttered the spell; 'sensim solvo memoria.'

She felt her head become very warm and fuzzy; a deep feeling of relaxation overcame her and she almost wanted to fall asleep. Shaking her head momentarily the blurry feeling left her, she tried to recall what she had forgotten but it still wasn't there. 'It didn't work,' she moaned as a sudden throbbing started at the back of her head.

'Well of course not, not right away.' Mr. Weasley smiled gently as he sat down again. 'You have to give it time. I used a slower release instead of a straight solvo memoria, which would have thrown you for six. A painful memory can be dangerous if it comes back too suddenly.'

'Oh,' she managed. 'When will I remember?'

'Shortly, it will come to you in bits and pieces,' the man's eyes looked weary, 'I just pray you don't regret it.'

They spent the rest of the afternoon together; she showed him the clockwork mouse and delighted in his sheer excitement and Mr. Weasley informed her of what was happening. Voldemort was slowly creeping upon them, and he feared that soon Harry would have to face him. Both Harry and Ron were trying to live as normal lives as they could before the inevitable battle they would both have to face – Ron would never let Harry face Voldemort alone.

Harry was in Auror Training and was doing very well. He was miles ahead of the other trainees in respect of his spell work, tracking abilities and capture, but he was still lacking in disguising and his paper work was abysmal. She mused that it would be hard for Harry to disguise himself successfully, he was far too well known, and magical scars never fade. A flash of bear shoulder cut through her mind, a deep scar running from the back to the front, barely distinguishable from the deathly pale skin under it. It was so close to the neck, if it had been a few millimetres to the right…

She sat bolt upright. Mr. Weasley looked at her with interest.

'I think its working,' she whispered, 'I think I just remembered something.'

'What was it?'

'A shoulder, with a scar, that was it.' Mr. Weasley didn't comment any further and instead rewound the mouse and let it run across the workbench once more. Hermione stifled a giggle; he looked so much like Ron.

'Do they… I mean-'

'They miss you so much,' Mr. Weasley commented without looking at her. 'Ron searched everywhere for you; he looked here, headquarters, Diagon Alley, absolutely everywhere. He even stormed down to the dungeons and demanded that Snape allow him to search his chambers!' Hermione gasped. 'Severus' face was brilliant according to Harry,'

'How is Se-the professor?' she asked quietly. Mr. Weasley looked her over before answering. He had avoided questioning her about Snape the entire afternoon, even when she had confessed her feelings for him. His stomach had lurched when she told him, not out of disgust, but from fear, fear that the father might be Snape. There were so many things that didn't quite fit into place about how he was discovered, and this would answer many of the questions. He would bet his last Knut that if Snape was the father, he certainly had no idea about it.

'He's... coping.'

'Is he still at Hogwarts?'

'Of course, he is a man of his word Hermione.'

It was touching too close to home for the young witch and she decided that now would be a good time to say goodbye. Mr. Weasley apparated her to the station at Newport, 'Are you sure I can't take you to your home?'

'You know I can't allow you to know where I am.' She sighed. 'Please, remember not to say anything to them about me being here. If they know they'll start looking for me again and they have enough on their plate.'

'I will Hermione,' he gave her a polite kiss on the cheek goodbye; 'take care of yourself, and when you have that child, you will let us know won't you?'

'Of course I will. You had best return before Mrs. Weasley knows you're gone.' He nodded his agreement and with a 'pop' he was gone. She waited for the train before she began to sob.

Severus threw a book across the room; it was actually intended for Draco's head, but the young blond ducked just in time.

'You are not paying attention!' Severus bellowed at the younger wizard. 'How do you expect to cover your feelings if you're off daydreaming?' He threw another book.

'I am not daydreaming; I'm just a little distracted tonight,' came the tart reply from Draco as he dodged the second book. 'You know that tonight-'

'Yes, I remember very well, thank you very much. You've not been able to block it out all night. That amongst other things,' Severus spat back. 'Please really do try Draco; I seriously do not want to see that!' A sneer set upon his lips as he looked down at the boy. 'Now prepare… Legilimens!'

Draco was unprepared this time; he hadn't even thought that Severus would hit him right away; normally he gave him a moment or two to prepare. Harry had always sniffed at this remembering his own encounters with the dark-haired wizard. Although it had paid off. Harry was now on par with Severus in his Occlumency skills and often teased Draco about the way Severus taught him. A flurry of images flashed through Severus' mind;

Draco was withering on a bed, begging for release, his back arching as he reached heights he had never known before… He was looking into the eyes of the Dark Lord, pledging his allegiance... Draco was back in bed, this time grabbing the waist of a slender form and slamming himself into a pert round bottom… He was teaching the first years basic charms in class, watching a few feathers float in the air… He was talking to his father, a satisfied laugh escaping Lucius' lips… He was back in bed, looking into the eyes of-

Snape tore himself away, his head momentarily spinning. 'When did all this happen?'

Draco tried to steady himself; his legs were weakened by the strength of the unsuspecting probe. 'Last- last night,' he stammered, 'we were just talking about the revel tonight and it kind of happened.'

'Damn it Draco!' Severus shouted, 'I told you not to get involved! I explicitly told you that it was far too dangerous! You know what happened to me, and I am a brilliant Occlumens!' The blond looked away. 'Get out of my sight!' Severus roared before storming from the classroom and slamming his chamber door shut.

Draco quivered, mostly from the continuous exposure to the spells his mentor had rained down on him, but there was also fear. He couldn't believe what he had just let his teacher see. He couldn't risk that again; he would have to be so careful from now on.

It had been six months since Hermione had left Hogwarts, Draco had thought it would be easy for his mentor to forget about the brief affair he had had with her, however it was proving to be quite the opposite. The Christmas holidays seemed to be particularly hard on the professor this year. He used to brood over Christmas, stating it was a worthless holiday full of false promises and lies to children about a half giant who made a living from breaking into peoples houses. Last year he had been in a 'better' mood. He hadn't once complained about the holiday, he hadn't praised it either, but it had definitely been a better experience for him. Draco's mind clicked into place. That would have been their first Christmas together.

He sighed and left the classroom, his soul tearing in two as he fought a war between loyalty to a cause and loyalty to a friend, and he felt another piece of himself die.

Severus sat with a glass of red wine in one hand, a book mindlessly cradled in the other. He turned the page absently and took another sip of his wine, the flavour lost on him as he stared at the new page without reading a word. He couldn't concentrate on anything of late unless it was his teaching, and Draco had really screwed that up tonight.

He let a curse slip as he thought about Draco and his young lover. He had seen friendship blossoming between the two, had watched them develop a kinship that no one else knew about except he and Dumbledore and he had warned Draco against getting involved at all costs. He rubbed his free hand across his eyes in frustration. It was all too much for the young spy; he didn't have the experience or knowledge for this situation. Severus had been playing this part since his twentieth year and had continued it for almost twenty years since. Even when the Dark Lord was supposedly gone, he hadn't been able to let his guard down, just in case.

He had tried to counsel his young friend in his new double life; Charms apprentice and Order spy to the light, and Death Eater Reveller in the shadows. However, he felt that he was failing. He couldn't even do one simple thing right.

He turned another page of the book, having not read a single word of the previous and continued in his musings. His mind wandered over the possibilities of the war outcome; when he had first started to spy he hadn't cared who won, if the light prevailed he would be empty from his wrong doings, if the dark won then he would be empty from his failings. When the Dark Lord disappeared, he was slightly relieved, although he still hadn't allowed himself to relax, not with all the other Death Eaters who had escaped. He kept face with them, acknowledging them and showing support to the School without directly voicing support to Dumbledore, although the aging headmaster knew that he had it in abundance.

When the Dark Lord had risen again, he had taken his cross up once more and ran headfirst back into an old familiar and comfortable role. He loved the fear, revelled in the adrenaline of it and delighted at the rush he got. However, things had changed this time around. For the first couple of years of Voldemort's, everything was the same. Secret meetings of the Death Eaters, Order Meetings – again in secret – teaching and showing support in public to neither cause, but then the third year had crept upon them and he had been given an assistant. Hermione Granger had walked into his classroom one evening and had thrown down the gauntlet. She respected him and in return she demanded his respect back. He wasn't going to give in easily though, and he certainly wasn't going to admit that he already had admiration for her. The way she handled him in each of her potion classes… a smiled played on his lips as he remembered how she bit her lip at his snide comments and mustered her Gryffindor bravery to defy him by helping Longbottom.

By Christmas he was in love. They were in the lab on Christmas morning; the silly little girl had gone and bought him a Christmas present, a crystal set of vials. A most precious gift for simply a professor. He had eyed her wearily as he examined each vial; flawless, just like her.

'Miss Granger,' he had drawled. 'I find this gift highly inappropriate, it is far too expensive and elegant a present for a student to adorn on her professor.' He had risen and walked around his desk to be in front of her. 'Especially when said professor has nothing to give in return.' She had blushed profusely at his comments and stumbled in her answer.

'Of course I didn't expect anything in return Professor, I saw them in the Apothecary in Hogsmeade and I remembered you commenting how you had admired them over the summer but felt it a reckless purchase. When I saw them in the sale,' she blushed again, 'I just had to buy them.'

Over the three months they had been working together during her 'detentions' he had grown fond of the girl with her untameable bushy locks and little upturned nose. Her mind gave him someone he could debate with, not talk down to. She talked about matters that were nothing to do with Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort, Harry-Bloody-Potter or the Order of the Phoenix. He delighted in being treated like another human being; like a friend.

And then she had stood there, her hair swept back into a ponytail exposing her flushed cheeks. She had tried to apologise, she had turned her head to look at him and before he could catch himself he had pressed his lips against hers.

He pulled back as if burnt; the moment his lips had touched hers a fire had shot to his stomach, awakening part of him he never knew had been alive. A part of his anatomy had also sprung to life, something that didn't do far too often either. He looked at her as though she had scorched him. Her eyes were wide with surprise, he tried to see if horror was also splayed across her face, but his eyes locked on to hers and suddenly he knew; he saw her laid bare emotionally. A flash of an image flew across his mind, it was as clear as Hermione was before him.

They were on the desk behind him, their glistening naked bodies locked together as he took her. He was above her, his arms on either side supporting his weight; her back was arched in sheer delight, her legs hooked on his hips as she moved her own to meet his rhythm.

He had ripped his gaze away, could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he turned his back on the girl – no woman – who was evoking his more primal male instincts.

'Professor?' she had asked quietly.

'Miss Granger,' he said in a mere whisper, not trusting his voice any louder. 'That was very inappropriate of me; I should not have done that. If you feel the need to report me to the Headmaster, I will not put up a fight.'

He head a soft murmur and felt a slight 'swoosh' past his ear. He turned around and saw her wand out and her gaze concentrating on a point above his head. He looked up to see what held her attention. Mistletoe was hanging above him, just a few inches from his head. It hung with magic, suspended by the thin air that surrounded it.

'Miss Granger!' he exclaimed and stepped from underneath it. The mistletoe, however, followed him. 'Stop this.'

'You know,' she started, 'that you cannot not kiss someone standing under the mistletoe, its bad luck and I think we need all the luck in the world with the War going on.' She smiled as she stepped toward him. He took a startled step back, but couldn't tare his eyes away from her beautiful red lips. 'You know Professor; anyone would think that you were scared of a Gryffindor and a woman to boot. What would your big bad Death Eater friends say about that?' She smiled at him saucily.

'Miss Granger,' he growled as he stepped back against the dungeon. He was trapped. 'I demand that you cease this silly little escapade at once.' Her body was lightly pressed against his, his stomach gave another lurch and his body craved to have hers pushed hard against his, preferably naked. His arms yearned to wrap around her and pull her head back so that he could crush her lips under his. He waited for her next move, but she didn't make one. She just stood there, her breathing a little shallow, her breast lightly brushing his chest. He groaned as his arm snuck around her, grabbing her ponytail to bring her head back as his lips crushed hers in a passionate, electrifying kiss.

Severus shook his head free of the images, his body aching as he thought of his beautiful brave Gryffindor. He wondered how she was, where she was and would he ever see her again. If he hadn't given his blasted word to stay here he would have been out there, searching for her, begging her to spend forever with him.

She had been his downfall and yet his salvation. He now knew how to love someone with passion, willing to risk everything for them. Moreover, he had.

A knock at his chamber door brought him out of his reverie. Sighing he stood and made his way over to it, bracing himself for the berating he would undoubtedly be receiving from Albus for not attending dinner in the Great Hall that evening. During the Christmas break all the remaining professors were required to attend all evening meals, unless they have prior excuse from Dumbledore himself.

The red head of Arthur Weasley was a complete surprise to him.

Arthur Weasley was a man Severus had deep respect for; however, right now he wanted to plant a fist on the man's protruding nose.

'Severus,' Arthur had nodded, as the door had swung open. 'I'm sorry to bother you at this late hour; however this is the first chance I've had in months to get away.' Severus returned the nod and opened his door to his fellow Order member.

'Arthur, how are you this evening?'

'I'm a little troubled actually,' the elder Weasley commented as Severus waved him to a seat and took one opposite. 'I had a visitor a few months ago; I was shocked to say the least at both my guest and their news.' He paused and looked at the Potions Master, he looked drained, and Arthur knew on the best of days Severus found it difficult to have company, but it looked as if his presence this evening was causing physical pain. He kept shifting in his chair, as if there was something sharp sticking in his back. Finally he muttered an angry 'get on with it' before slouching, arms across his chest with an almost pout on his lips. It was almost comical.

'Severus, Hermione visited me.'

The professor shot bolt up right. 'What? When? How is she? Is she okay? Does she…' he trailed off, 'What did she have to say for herself?' he finished trying to sneer at his last comment.

'She wanted me to lift a memory charm. It wasn't a hard one to lift, but I had reservations…' Severus stiffened completely at Arthur's words. 'It had something to do with a missing night. The night you were found out to be precise.' He waited for the potions master to comment. When he made no move to talk or to even look at the man, which in itself confirmed what Arthur had feared, he continued. 'I released the memory slowly, but by now she would have remembered everything – I just hope she doesn't regret what she's found out.' Suddenly Severus was on his feet and had the aging red head by his collar, lifting him clear out of the chair.

'You will keep that nose out of my business.' He bellowed dragging the other wizard across the room to his dungeon's door. 'And if I ever see you in my chambers again,' he opened the door, 'you will be wanting me to Obliviate you!' he threw the man out into the hallway, watching him crash into the wall opposite. 'I trust you'll have a goodnight.' And with that he closed the door. Some friendships just aren't worth the pain, he thought bitterly returning to his bottle of wine and book.

A/N: As always, mucho thanks to my beta Claudia! Without her, this wouldn't be half as much fun to read!

My Spells: 'sensim solvo memoria' Slowly Release Memory
'solvo memoria' Release Memory

We had a little debate on WIKTT Misc as to if an Obliviate could in fact be reversed. After reading the first few chapters of GoF I decided that the reason that Bertha Jorkins was killed was because LV wanted her dead, not because that's what happens when a Memory Charm is reversed. It was decided on WIKTT that Lockharts isn't a 'normal' Oblivate, due to Ron's wand so we couldn't really use that as an example! So I used artistic license and decided that a Memory Charm can be lifted without consequence if its done properly. If anyone care's to disagree, please comment, however, I'm not going to change it so there. lol.