Chapter 2

Revelations

Hermione shrunk the items she thought she would need into the exact replica of her school satchel bag that she found in the Room of Requirement and prepared to journey forward to the future. She had decided on four changes of clothes for herself, not knowing how long she would be in 1998 or how dirty she was likely to get. Thankfully, since these were all clothes generated by the Room of Requirement, she could simply vanish anything she was finished with. There were also a number of snacks and other food items, a few bottles of water, healing potions, muggle first-aid supplies like bandages, and a book she found in the trunk called Medicinal Magic: A Helpful Guide for the Aspiring Mediwitch by Xanthe Bishop-Cook. Making sure these were all shrunk into her bag, she stood up and put her shoulders back.

Hermione sighed. She thought she was as ready as she would ever be. She looked back at the scrap of parchment she had been given by Professor Dumbledore.

8th of September, 1996 to 1st of May, 1998

Room of Requirement to Shrieking Shack

Take what you need to save a life.

Oh right, she thought. I almost forgot.

She walked back over to the marble pedestal and grabbed the leatherbound journal. Picking it up and flipping through it to make sure it was empty, she placed it gingerly into her school satchel. Thankfully, this bag was an exact replica of her regular bag, so the spare quills, ink, and parchment were already in it.

Heart hammering in her chest, she double-checked that her wand was correctly in her robe pocket before lifting the Time-Turner gingerly out from under her white button-down shirt.

Her mind had been whirling around trying to prepare mentally while she had thought of all necessities to pack. Hermione Granger was nothing if not logically thorough. While she meticulously went through items she might need as they magically appeared in the facsimile trunk, her heart ached at the implications of the note.

Take what you need to save a life.

Whose life? Ron's life? Harry's life?

Probably Harry's, she had thought. The Chosen One, The Boy-Who-Lived, of course, Harry being in danger would be something that needed to be averted. Something important enough to travel through time and risk making catastrophic changes.

Now, holding the Time-Turner in her hand and slowly changing the notches like the cogs on a combination lock, she steeled herself.

01.05.1998

00:00:00

The Time-Turner clicked into place, waiting to be spun.

She gathered up her Gryffindor bravery and thought of her friends. Ron, the friend and the boy she'd liked on and off for years. Harry, who was probably the one she needed to save from death.

This was why she was needed for this task. She, who had been helping Harry avert death for years and had already saved a life with a Time-Turner once, was the perfect person for this task. She had already admitted last year, before the Department of Mysteries fiasco- and certainly after- that she was signing up to protect Harry regardless of the danger.

Even unto death, she thought. For that is what true friends do.

And at that thought, she spun the hourglass.

Hermione felt herself thrown forward with a bang as she hit a wall, slamming her right side against it. She groaned and rose to her feet, heart pounding.

What the hell?

She glanced around and found herself in the seventh-floor corridor, outside what should have been the Room of Requirement.

Dragon Shite, she thought. Did it work?

The Hogwarts corridor was quiet and empty, just as it had been when she left. She lifted her left hand up to rub her right arm. It ached from hitting the wall and she was sure she was bruised from the impact. She stretched it a little before reaching for her wand and pulling it from her robes.

"Tempus," she whispered. Huh, she thought, looking at the time and date. It did work after all. Then why am I outside the Room?

It frustrated her to leave that question unanswered for now, but she couldn't let time get away from her. Hermione quickly disillusioned herself and set off down the corridor, making her way slowly and quietly through the castle.

It felt eerie. Hogwarts was her home, but this Hogwarts had a different air about it. True, she wasn't often out in the castle this late, so perhaps it was just the darkness…

No, there was definitely something going on. Many of the portraits were abandoned, and those that weren't had many painted figures huddled together, likely visitors from other scenes. Some were sleeping, but others looked as if they couldn't sleep. Scared or watching? Hermione gripped her wand tighter and shuffled a little faster, not wanting to break into a loud sprint yet.

Somewhere on the third floor, she started to get the creeping feeling she was being followed. A simple lumos would undo being hidden by the disillusionment charm and wasn't worth it. Yet a quick glimpse behind her offered nothing.

Maybe they're disillusioned too? What a comforting thought.

She suddenly changed her mind about how she would get to the Shrieking Shack.

Instead of going through the Whomping Willow, I'll use the passage to Hogsmeade under the One-Eyed Witch and just enter the Shack from the street. She had originally discounted this route as overly complicated and riskier than it needed to be, but she had to shake the person following her. Better that way than getting caught before I get out of the castle.

Hermione quickly flattened herself against the wall and waited, trying to still her breathing.

There. The person following her had stopped too.

She held her position and waited. Slowly, she felt the presence drift away.

After holding a few more breaths, she moved carefully away from the wall and continued down the corridor. The statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor was about 20 wand lengths away now. Almost there, almost-

She was yanked backward. There was a jolt as a silencing charm hit her in the face. She felt her back hit a hard chest, arms encompass her, and a wand tip press sharply under her chin.

"Do you have a death wish?" A familiar voice hissed in her ear.

Hermione felt herself being pulled back into a window alcove and pushed down into the window seat. She looked up at Professor Snape, his dark eyes flashing murderously.

He continued to glare down at her as he moved his wand fluidly, and she felt the hum of non-verbal spells encompass the window alcove. A Notice-Me-Not, some sort of muffling spell…

Merlin's balls. Dragon Shite. Fucking hell. How many minutes into the future did it take for me to get seen? Her heart pounded through her chest and she felt ringing in her ears. No, wait, you can get out of this Hermione. Just remember that next year when you're a Seventh Year, you'll get a really awful detention from Snape for being caught out of bed. Future Hermione will remember this and cover for you and no one has to know about the time travelling. I'll definitely write this down in the journal so I can remember that when it comes to it.

He is taking a lot of time to make sure we aren't disturbed.

"Well?" He hissed, apparently having finished his casting. "Were you seen?" Snape must have only just woken up and dressed quickly. He didn't have his normal cloak or frock coat on. He still looked imposing in just the white button-up shirt and black trousers and Hermione gaped at him, still in shock and wondering what to say.

Does he know about the Time-Turner? How does he know I can't be seen?

She shook her head slowly to tell him no, frizzy curls bouncing. Professor Snape grabbed her hand and yanked her out of the window seat to her feet. She felt his wand hit under her chin again and his body pressed up against her, pushing her into the wall. "Tell me something only Hermione Granger would know." His black eyes glinted at her, face stern and impenetrable.

What? How paranoid is he?

She tried talking but nothing came out. He exhaled, appearing to remember the silencing charm and wandlessly canceled it with his left hand, steadily holding the wand to her chin with his right.

"I was at the Department of Mysteries-"

He snorted. "Common knowledge. You're supposed to be smarter than that."

This is excessive, she thought furiously. He's scaring the living daylights out of me and isn't it illegal to use spells on students like this? Well, might as well go for broke.

"I set you on fire during a Quidditch match in my first year." There, that should shock him enough and certainly proved it was her. Who would admit to that if they hadn't done it? Maybe I can warn him back in detention in 1996 to go easy on me next year. She winced and waited.

To her astonishment, Snape barked out a laugh, removed his wand, and pulled her quickly into his arms, holding her tightly.

What the…

"Hermione." She had never heard her name said with such emotion. His breathing was ragged. He held her with one hand on the back of her neck and one at the small of her back, gripping her protectively. Still in shock, she held herself there without struggling, pleasantly assaulted by the smell of him. Musty, but not in a bad way. Like the wonderful smells of old books or rain-soaked clothes. She breathed in, almost forgetting the strange scenario.

Finally, she pulled her head slowly away from his chest and looked up, only to be greeted by his lips against hers. She gasped in surprise, but that only deepened the kiss. She gave another attempt to open her mouth to speak before his lips continued against hers and she felt him quickly suckle at her lower lip. As he kissed her, she felt the heat rise in her face and her heart start pounding again. She felt like she was disembodied, herself watching from afar as her body moved, no longer able to control itself from panting and kissing him back gently. She was not able to stop his languid kisses and not thinking clearly enough to want to, holding onto him by the front of his shirt for support.

He pulled away from her just as she was thinking of truly kissing him back. "You hesitate."

"I-" What do I say? In this timeline I'm having an affair with my professor! When did this happen? Do I play along with this? If I'm having an affair with him do I trust him with this task? I don't know if I can fake this convincingly.

"I-I need to go." She said lamely, removing her hands from his shirt. That might work for a number of scenarios.

"Of course. How can I be of assistance?" Snape's black eyes shone brilliantly down at her; his raven hair glinted in the moonlight coming from the window. He hadn't moved his hands from behind her, though she wasn't pressed flush against his chest anymore.

Hermione didn't answer, trying to puzzle out what she needed to say. 'I can make it back to Gryffindor Tower myself,' might make the most sense as a Seventh-Year student having a torrid affair with a professor. 'I need to get to the Shrieking Shack,' if he knew about the time travelling.

She believed Snape could be trusted, but she dreaded breaking the timeline in some way by revealing herself.

"I don't need any help."

He snorted amusedly and raised a hand to her face to brush some errant curls away. "If that were true, I wouldn't have caught you." He pressed his forehead to hers and sighed. "Whatever you're doing here, it needs to be done quickly. I can't risk being seen with you and Merlin knows you can't explain any allegiance with me." His dark eyes peered into hers, continuing to keep her unsettled. "Tell me what must be done. I haven't heard the Caterwauling Charm, so you must have taken care of that. Or have you been hiding on the seventh floor with the rest of the students?"

Her brow furrowed slightly. Were there students in the Room of Requirement? Is that why she didn't land directly there?

He couldn't miss her confusion, of course, being so close to her. The fire faded from his black eyes almost instantly. "Hermione," he drawled slowly, pulling back from her face, "how did you get into the castle?"

Hermione couldn't hide the flush or the abject fear on her face. She bit her lip nervously.

Snape snarled and moved his hands from behind her back to her front. They pushed under her robe to her shirt as she gasped. He quickly attacked the buttons on her blouse, unbuttoning them.

What is he doing? Heat soured through her body as he pulled at the buttons. Do I even want him to stop? She was completely red by now.

He got about four buttons down when he groaned and pushed away from her. He put his head in his hands and turned away, facing the opposite wall and sinking against it.

My breasts aren't that small, she thought embarrassedly. Oh, wait.

Fuck. He'd seen the Time-Turner.

"Sir, I'm so sorry," she babbled, buttoning her shirt back up as she trembled. "I swear I wasn't seen by anyone else…and I know you can act without disrupting the timeline…" She trailed off as he let out a low moan. What do I do now? Have I ruined everything? This isn't as bad as being seen by myself, but…gods was this supposed to happen? Have I changed everything now?

"All this time," she heard him say from his seat on the floor. "All this time and it began with me. I hated you for so long, questioned your motives, but it was my doing all along…" He trailed off, not explaining further.

What does he mean it began with him?

He turned back and looked up at her and her heart broke for him, despite not completely understanding. Snape looked like a broken man, raw. His face was an open book of sorrow and guilt. She had seen more emotion out of Professor Snape in the last few minutes than she had seen from him in the last five years. She dropped down to her knees and scooted over to him, wanting to comfort him. This was all so strange, but he clearly cared for her. For future her. After those fiery kisses, she didn't want to object too much.

"Forgive me, Hermione." He whispered. He turned towards her fully and reached for her but seemed to think better of it and pulled away. Before he retreated completely, she reached forward and grasped his hand in hers.

"It was only kissing," she said breathlessly, flushing anew. And I liked it.

He let out a low chuckle, smiling sadly in a crooked grin. "Oh my sweet girl, that's the least of it." Her flush deepened. She suspected that, of course. She resisted the urge to nervously twist her wild hair with her other hand.

She looked at him shyly as he stared back, apparently willing her to forgive him with looks alone. Hermione examined Snape, attempting to take him in fully now that she didn't have to hide her ignorance of whatever had passed between them in the last year and a half. The top two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, and his wiry form clung through the material. His face was pale as ever and his dark eyes were shining with- perhaps with unshed tears, perhaps it was a trick of the moonlight. The deep circles under his eyes seemed more pronounced than she'd ever noticed before. His nose fit his face nicely, prominent to be sure, but distinguished. His dark hair hung down, framing his face. It didn't appear to be greasy. She wondered about touching it. If it wasn't as soft as it looked, if it was greasy, would he let her wash it? Thread her hands through his hair, rub his scalp and-

"Come." He began to stand, still holding her hand, and lifted her up with him. "You came for a purpose and I suspect it was not that revelation." He said the last word with a sneer, and she realized it was meant for himself, not for her. How many of his facial expressions and mannerisms have been self-deprecating? She wondered.

"I need to get to the Shrieking Shack."

"Then, Miss Granger, I shall be your escort." And as he canceled the spells on the alcove, disillusioned them both, and led her down the hall still grasping her hand, she tried to clamp down her next thoughts.

Say my name. Call me Hermione again.