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Chapter Four: Mourning

Hermione watched her husband's face, savoring the moment. There were so few times in their married life that she had actually managed to render him speechless and the combination of incredulity and horror on his face was priceless. Hermione couldn't help it; she laughed.

He glared at her, which only made it funnier.

"I do not find this situation at all humorous. Obviously you have lost what little wits you were born with but I can assure you I am no one's husband, least of all yours." The temperature of his voice lowered to freezing as he delivered this last barb. Hermione fought to compose herself and finally managed to stop laughing, but she couldn't wipe the silly grin off her face.

"If you are quite finished..." He raised an eyebrow. Hermione gestured at him that she was. "Good." He stood up.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"As you have obviously lost your mind, I find I must seek outside assistance in answering my questions. I will ask Dumbledore."

The grin slid from Hermione's face. "Severus..."

He wasn't listening to her. He had already made his way to the fireplace and taken a pinch of floo powder from the carved box on the mantle.

"Severus wait!"

He threw the powder into the fire.

"Severus, Dumbledore is dead."

He turned slowly, his whole body stiff. "What did you say?" He asked quietly.

"Dumbledore is dead. He died three days after the battle. I'm sorry..."

Her voice trailed off. Snape's face had drained of color.

"What was it for?" He asked and his voice was full of bitterness and pain. "What was any of it for? He killed Dumbledore… He won. He won!" Severus seemed to shrink into himself with every word and he sank down onto the sofa and buried his head in his hands. Hermione hurried across the room and pulled his hands away, taking his face gently in her hands and looking him in the eye.

"Severus, listen to me. Voldemort didn't win. He didn't kill Dumbledore. Dumbledore did it himself, or more appropriately, he created the spell that killed him." She sighed. "Harry can explain this a lot better than I can. He'll know what to tell you and what not to..."

"I think, Miss Granger, that you better tell me all of it."

She studied him for a moment. The anger has gone out of his voice and he was now looking at her levelly, something he had not done since he had come here.

But how did he come here? She wondered. It's obvious that he somehow moved forward in time. But what can I say to him? How do I know that what I say won't change everything?

"You've already told me enough to change things." He said as though he had been reading her mind.

Wouldn't put that past him, she thought. In truth she and Severus communicated that way much of the time.

I wonder... Hermione reached out. Yes, she could feel him right there, on the edge of her consciousness. She pulled back, knowing that probing further would be unwarranted and unwelcome. Severus Snape, in this time or any other, was a private man.

"Alright." She said finally. "Alright, I'll tell you. But what I say to you…a lot of what I'll tell you has been kept secret from the Wizarding world, and with good reason. It could mean Harry's life if the truth ever got out, and not just because there are Deatheaters still at large. A lot of what happens seems pretty unbelievable, even to me. And I was there…" She trailed off. Snape made a gesture that was unmistakably will-you-get-on-with-it.

"Okay." Hermione said. "Okay. Let's go."