A/N: This is one version of three; the others will be posted on A03 within the coming weeks. This one just so happens to be my favorite!

Full info at the end, written for THC.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended; HP and co belong to JKR and WB.

Beta Love: Copper's Mama, Datura_Rosier, Charlie9646

Severus Snape knew that he would not survive the second coming of the Dark Lord. He'd known that since his Dark Mark began growing darker, when the return was mere whispers in the wind. In actuality, he was surprised that he had survived until the final battle. Paranoia and violence had become a daily threat throughout Voldemort's reign; those who remained in the inner circle were either fanatical in their worship or very good liars. He happened to be a fantastic liar.

The snake had been an unplanned complication, as was bleeding out on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. A special poetic justice, he thought, that he would actually die where Black had planned for him to be attacked by Lupin when they were sixteen. The universe was laughing at him.

Severus' eyes widened as he saw the mark on Miss Granger's collarbone, the one that matched his own. All of his life he had waited to see that mark on another; of course he would finally see it when he was dying, bleeding out on the floor in front of the woman that magic deemed to be his soulmate and her dunderheaded companions. It couldn't have been anyone else that he would have been free to pursue a relationship with, it had to be a student who believed him to be a complete and total git. The universe really was laughing at him.

Even sadder was what still had to be done to end the war. "Look at me," he croaked at Harry, pushing forward every memory that the boy would need to put the end into motion, hoping that one of them would be smart enough to identify and collect the memories to review in Dumbledore's pensieve - carefully curated memories that would convince the boy to do what he needed to do, to be the pig for the slaughter that Dumbledore had intended him to be. Silver leaked from his eyes, ears, and nose in rivulets, streaming toward the blood-soaked floorboards. It was unnerving, seeing that much of his blood outside of his body.

His vision was failing, limbs tingling, respirations depressed. Blood loss and Nagini's venom were taking their toll on his already abused body. Miss Granger had started life-saving measures, but Severus knew those measures were pointless. Without antivenin he would succumb to his injuries, and the only antivenin available for Nagini's venom lay in a locked vault at St. Mungo's. There was no hope for him. All of the Dittany she was dumping in an effort to staunch the bleeding, the blood replenishing potions she was forcing down his mangled throat, the potions that acted like adrenaline to keep his pathetic heart beating… It was all for naught. She should have been saving those potions for those who could truly be saved.

Why did she have to keep staring at him like that?

The mark on her collarbone became his anchor; his eyes stayed on it as she did everything she knew to do in order to save his life. He could hear her chanting spells, barking orders at the two stunned boys, but it sounded like she was shouting underwater. That mark, a simple line that resembled a stirring rod, was the last thing he saw before he allowed the darkness to wrap its arms around him like a long lost lover and carry him away.

When Severus opened his eyes again it was daylight. He blinked rapidly, trying to get his bearings. He was outside, obviously. He could feel the grass under his body, plush and fragrant. An occasional car driving by could be heard, the gentle babbling of flowing water. A deep breath filled his nostrils with the smell of smoke and smog, grease from the chippy on the corner, waste from the factories along the river.

Cokeworth. For whatever reason, he was back home, on the riverfront near the playground about two blocks from his home on Spinner's End and it made him smile.

"You're here because it's a place that made you happy, once upon a time."

Severus bolted upright and sought the source of the voice. There, just as beautiful as she was when they were in school, was Lily Evans - no, Potter. Lily Potter, with her perfect auburn red hair and green eyes, freckles and bright smile. He had truly died, then. "Lily?"

She shook her head. "No, unfortunately. The one you call Lily is happily spending her days in Elysium; I've just taken on a form that would be of comfort." She walked over to where he sat and plopped onto the grass beside him. The look-a-like scrunched her nose and then, with a pop, changed into Sirius Black. "Imagine waking up to this face, or," more nose scrunching and another pop, "this face." Albus Dumbledore stood, staring at him.

"No, Lily is better. Please."

Albus closed his eyes and scrunched his nose, then Lily popped back into existence in his place. "That last one felt awful - remind me to never do that one again." She grimaced. "He felt... tainted."

"You've no idea," he muttered, chuckling. "So, I'm dead."

"A heroic death if I do say so myself, and I do because I'm am Death and I call the shots." Death grinned and pointed finger guns at Severus. "You have a couple options. As you died a hero's death, you will be allowed to waltz into Elysium and spend the rest of your unlife in your own personal paradise."

Severus nodded, though he was surprised that paradise was even on the table.

"Or, since you've worked so hard to redeem yourself and stopped Tom Riddle, you can return to the land of the living; there are some terms and conditions, though."

"I'm intrigued," he said, eyebrow raised.

"I knew you would be!" Death winked. "They usually are, you know, the newly dead. Not ready to give up life yet, all that. Anyway!" Death clapped their hands and continued, "You will be born again, in the same world, just a different timeline."

"Come again?"

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to live a normal life? One where you could just be a kid, then grow up to do whatever you wanted, where the only master that you serve is you." Death leaned back and lay in the grass. "Just imagine, Severus Snape, free agent. You could be a baker, if you wanted, or even an astronaut!" They looked over at him. "Wouldn't that be smashing?"

"Not quite what I would choose for an occupation, but I do appreciate the suggestions."

"Well? Does that seem appealing to you?" Death asked him.

"Can I choose where I am to be placed? Or do I have to return to having shite parents that cannot decide whether they want to ignore me or beat the magic out of me?"

"As a hero you've been granted that right." Death rolled over onto their belly and propped up on their elbows, face in hands. "Tell me more, Severus."

"I discovered the one who bears the twin to my soul mark as I was meeting my demise," he explained. To demonstrate, he pulled aside the collar of the shirt he was wearing to reveal a small pink line on his collarbone, shaped like a stirring rod. To the uninitiated, it simply looked like a scar.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that, Severus. Sometimes life just isn't fair." Death kicked their feet a bit. "Always hits us at the worst of times."

Severus glared at Death. "I learned that when I saw Lily bore a mark in the silhouette of a stag's horns, while mine happened to be upon the body of a child in my care."

"No need for bitterness, friend. I'm giving you a chance to be reunited with Lily if you want or get to know the girl who has the mark matching yours by growing up alongside her. There is another option, should you choose to go back."

"Yes?"

"Return as if you had never left, had never died, and pursue the girl as your present self, even if you are a bit of a git, as you say. If she is as kind as your heart says that she is, then she may give your old arse a chance."

"I'm self deprecating enough as it is, I don't need it from you, too." Severus leveled Death with a glare that would have made any of his students cower in fear.

Death held their hands up in surrender. "I meant no harm. So, what would you like to do?"

"I may regret this, but the third option. I do not have to reestablish myself in a new career, and if the Wizarding World is not receptive to my reentrance I can always disappear in Muggle Britain. Possibly even go to the Continent."

"I think I can pull a few strings on your behalf," Death said. "Is that what you wish to do?"

Severus nodded. "Yes."

Death simply smiled. "Done!" With a clap of hands, Severus's world went black.

Ever since she'd heard Lavender and Parvarti squealing about them in second year, Hermione had been intrigued by the idea of a soul mark and finding a soulmate. She had read every book that she could find on the subject so she knew what to look for when looking for her mark, how she'd feel if she met the one with her mark, what would happen if he or she accepted that she bore their mark's match. She felt that she was prepared for every eventuality.

Had she been prepared to see her mark's twin on her grumpy Potions professor? Not at all. When she had stripped open his shirt to access the wounds on his throat she hadn't paid any mind to anything but the job at hand: stabilize the injury enough to get him to safety. Get him to the people that could heal him.

Essence of Dittany. Blood-Replenishing Potion. Both Antidote to Common and Uncommon Poisons. Potions that mimicked adrenaline for the two times his heart stopped while she was working. No matter how hard she worked, the wounds simply refused to close. There was so much blood. Entirely too much.

She refused to give up. She shouted orders at the boys and they followed the best they could. In the end she finally had to stop. Continuing would be a waste of resources that they simply did not have. She shooed Harry and Ron out of the Shack, urging them to go view the memories in Dumbledore's pensieve, that she would be behind them after she gathered her things.

"Really, Hermione, cleaning up? We're at war!" Ron barked at her.

"He deserves some dignity, Ronald. I cannot just leave him here, thrown away like a rag doll."

She paid no mind as the boys left. She concentrated on gathering her jars and vials, arranging Professor Snape the best she could. Using the foolish wand-waving that he seemed to hate, Hermione cleared the blood from his body. She carefully wrapped his throat with his cravat before moving to close his shirt and coat. It was then that she noticed the little pink line on his right clavicle and her world stopped. There he was, the one who had her soul mark.

It made sense, she supposed, that having a mark that looked oddly like a stirring rod would tie her to a Potions Master. It had appeared the night of the welcoming feast her first year, she noticed it while changing into her pajamas before bed.

Her stomach sank. That meant she would never have that magic that her friends had experienced; the joy of planning a life with her soulmate had been taken from her. Yes, she would be able to have meaningful relationships, but would any of them even compare to what could have been? Would she ever be as happy? Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were the perfect example of what a soul bond could be; their happiness was something Hermione had aspired for in a relationship, the closeness and acceptance. Would that ever be something she would find?

Ronald was right. This was a time of war. This was no time to mourn what may or may not have been; she would have plenty of time for that later.

Two Years Later

Severus felt like he'd lost his mind. He stood in front of Twelve Grimmauld Place with his hand raised to knock yet he was unable to actually make the final motion of bringing his hand against the aging wood. He knew Hermione lived here with Harry. For two long years he'd kept tabs on her through word of mouth or through the newspapers, following her movements and silently cheering her on from the shadows. He'd watched her leave Hogwarts after returning for her seventh year, then take on an arithmancy apprenticeship at the Ministry. An offer from the Department of Mysteries would be forthcoming, he knew - he was the one who put the idea into the head of Unspeakable Bones. Hermione would be a true asset to their department, to the Time Room.

Death had deposited him in one of the Malfoy safehouses after their conversation. Apparently, it had been weeks. Lucius claimed that the reason he was alive was not the intervention of Death, but the intervention of one of the Hogwarts Elves saving him. The "conversation" had been a fever dream, and he was a complete moron for thinking that some mythic being saved him and not good old fashioned magic with a side of good luck. His name had been cleared thanks to the efforts of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, aided by his memories and some of his writings that had been discovered in the Headmaster's office. It was then that he felt safe enough to make his presence known in small circles.

Once Madam Bones had caught wind of his miraculous recovery she had immediately hunted him down for his talent. The fact that he had actually conversed with Death was infinitely more fascinating. It was that one encounter, more than all of his years of experience with Potions and the Dark Arts, that she was interested in. Their first meeting she had offered him a position in the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable, a position that he happily took. An Order of Merlin was nice, and his vault at Gringotts had accumulated a hefty amount over the years of having little to no living expenses while he taught, but he couldn't imagine not having a direction in life. Being an Unspeakable gave him the perfect opportunity to continue his personal experimentation, all while having the clearance to explore the knowledge of the Department of Mysteries. Overall it was quite the dream come true.

There was only one piece of the puzzle missing.

That was what led him to standing on Harry Potter's stoop with his hand raised to knock. It was what filled his stomach full of butterflies and left him feeling like a schoolboy at the ripe old age of forty.

When the courage to knock finally built enough momentum to drive his hand forward, it fell through open air and lightly bopped Harry Potter, who had just opened the door, on the shoulder. "Mister Potter," he said, dumbly.

"Uhh," Harry replied, just as dumbly. "Good evening, sir. Happy Christmas?"

"Oh, is it Christmas?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "It is."

Silence reigned, awkward tension heavy in the air.

This was not going as planned.

Severus cleared his throat. "Is Miss Granger available?"

Harry stared at him in shock and then nodded. "Yeah, come in, sir. I'll go get her. Go on to the kitchen, she'll meet you there. Something tells me she'll want to make tea."

Severus made his way to the kitchen. The old Black home had changed a lot since he'd last been. Harry had created a warm home in place of the cold, and almost creepy, atmosphere it took on when it was the home of the Order. The warm smells of Molly's cooking was absent, but the feeling of coming home wrapped around him. This place was definitely full of happy memories. He sat at the table and waited.

"Professor Snape."

He turned to the doorway. She was just as lovely as she appeared in the papers. In the two years since the end of the war she'd regained her health, though lacked the sparkle in her eyes that he always remembered. The mark on her clavicle glared at him from under the strap of her vest top. "Miss Granger."

"Are you here because of this?" she asked, pointing at her mark.

He tugged aside the collar of his shirt. "I am here because of this," he replied. "When did you figure it out?"

"As I tried to save your life. I've been mourning for two years, you know." She marched up to him and smacked him on the arm. "Two bloody years, Severus Snape! You could have said something, you know! Hello, I'm alive? Something?"

"I wanted you to learn, grow; find your place in the world before I swept you off your feet," he chuckled. "Who was to say that you would want to be with a man twice your age? An old teacher?"

"Who are you to make that decision for me?"

There was that spark. The one that had disappeared.

In a leap of faith, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. He was pleasantly surprised when she relaxed in his embrace and returned it. "Is this something we are going to try, then?" he asked, nuzzling his nose into her riotous hair. "I asked Death to return me, you know."

"You truly know how to sweet talk a girl, Severus Snape."

"Is that a yes, then?"

"Obviously."

THC

House: Gryffindor

Position: Muggle Studies

Drabble/Standard: Standard

Prompt: Time Travel + (Trope) Soulmate Marks

Word Count: 2972

Triggers: Character Death (temporary)