Chapter 3

Waiting

Through his capable hands, they had made it down through the great doors (a better plan than the One-Eyed Witch passage), across the grounds under the moonlight, and through the secret passage under the Whomping Willow. Having travelled carefully and silently through the passageway and into the Shack, Hermione emerged from the passage ready. Wand out, she cast a presence revealing charm, and finding nothing but the two glowing lights representing herself and Snape, she sighed.

"I'll be waiting here for a bit," she told him. "I'll be alright. I have plenty of supplies. I can transfigure some clothes I brought into a blanket and I have a book."

"Undoubtedly you came here in the middle of the night for the quiet reading space." She turned around to look at him and saw a smirk on his face to go along with his raised right brow. She grinned. I'm not used to Professor Snape being cheeky, she thought. It suits him.

She remembered the last time she had been in the Shrieking Shack. "Yes, well it beats running from a werewolf, sir." The smirk fell quickly from his face. She felt the air stiffen with him and her grin fell as well. She realized too late that this had been far too familiar of a reference. "Sorry sir," she flushed, looking down. See, I pushed it too far. Clever aren't you, Hermione.

Hermione turned away from Snape and looked for a place to settle in. She found a quiet, dusty corner that would do well. It had a good view of the opening passage as well as the stairs and it appeared to be uninhabited by spiders. As she pushed her back against the wall and lowered herself to sit, she was surprised to feel Snape doing the same and sliding down the wall slowly to her left. He sat casually with his legs bent at the knee and an arm resting over them. His right arm fell down to his side, next to her. She wondered if he wanted to hold hands again. I wouldn't object.

"I'm here now, you don't need to stay."

"I prefer it."

"To sleeping?"

"I don't sleep much now." She looked over at him, catching his profile as he stared straight ahead. He did look haggard. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked paler than she remembered, if that was possible.

She felt her heart ache to help him somehow, comfort him. After all, even if she weren't ready for a torrid romance now, apparently it couldn't be too far ahead. But she wanted to comfort him, really, even apart from that. Hadn't she always defended him when Harry and Ron disparaged the 'greasy dungeon bat'? 'He is our Professor!' and 'It's Professor Snape, Harry.' As for the appropriateness of it all, with some sort of affair going on and her having time-travelled from the past…

She was bursting at the seams to ask a few things though, so they could start with talking.

"Can I ask any questions? About what it's like now?" He continued looking ahead, but his lips pursed slightly.

"I have a few questions myself Miss Granger; however, it would be unwise to ask them all." Great, it's back to Miss Granger now. Well, you did call him sir.

He glanced down at her. "Let us both tread carefully and use discernment as to what should be divulged."

"I don't have any information you wouldn't know about."

"No? What time are you from exactly? What is your mission here? Have you been to any other times or are you going to any others after this? None of these are answers I have."

"I don't understand though, why couldn't I tell you that? You are ahead of me chronologically, so it should just be telling me things that shouldn't be allowed, right?"

He sighed tiredly. "Granger, you're assuming time is a loop and inalterable. You are operating on the assumption that there is no way to truly change the past. If it is a loop, that would correct. If it is alterable, if there is such a possibility of altering the timeline and splitting outcomes into new varied dimensions, then perhaps our conversation here would affect your knowledge or behavior in the past once you return to it. That may, in turn, affect my own previous behavior or the behavior of others and alter this present we find ourselves in." He sneered and put his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "Though it is fairly fucked at this point, so why not?"

She ignored the last comment, too curious about time theory. "What's your opinion? Is time inalterable?"

"I have no way of knowing for sure as of yet."

She looked at him thoughtfully and they sat in silence for a few moments. "But you already believe something that happened now has affected the past," she said slowly and quietly. She bit her lip before continuing. "You told me it all started with you… and you meant the you here tonight, don't you? This future you- I mean the present for yourself…. That is..." She waved her hands and pointed at him. "You said that the you here in 1998 started something that already happened. That was what you were saying, isn't it? I don't know what you mean by that."

Snape turned to face her fully now. "When are you from?" It seemed he had decided to ignore the time-altering implications by asking that question.

"1996. Start of my sixth year."

"Is this your first time using a Time-Turner?"

"No. I used it in my third year." His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. She took a deep breath and looked down, playing with her hands a little. "I was using it all year to go to extra classes. Then at the end of the year, Harry and I used it to go back a few hours. We helped Sirius Black escape the dementors and keep Buckbeak from getting executed." His eyes closed.

"Albus didn't tell me the exact details. I suspected Potter was involved somehow and with his approval, but that does explain the course of events that night."

"That's all of my Time-Turner experience before tonight."

He opened his eyes then and looked at her. His dark eyes were penetrating. He simply stared for a full minute and she felt herself turning red. Finally, he appeared to relax and sat back and turned away. "Keep it that way, Granger. Get back to your own time and stay there. Then we can test the hypothesis about time being a loop." She nodded.

This was strange. He was acting familiar with her…of a sort. Here he was, sitting next to her on the floor of the Shrieking Shack in the middle of the night, almost scandalously dressed compared to his regular attire, and answering her questions about time and being…polite, really. It was all very un-Snapelike, but it was also stilted. It was different than it had been not even an hour ago in the third-floor corridor. He's acting like this for me, she realized. He knows I'm not the Hermione he was expecting, so he can't kiss me or hold me…but he's showing me that he's friendlier than just the normal Professor Snape.

"The uniform is out of place, you know." He gestured to her attire, raising an eyebrow. "You should change when you get the chance. Not that you would be foolish enough to let yourself be seen by anyone else."

"Yes, I was meaning to ask about that. Why is it out of place? It's still the school year, isn't it? You said before that I shouldn't be in the castle. The Easter hols can't be this late in the year, can they?"

Snape looked away. He paused for a few beats before replying. "You aren't here this year."

Hermione's jaw dropped. She flung herself forward, curls bouncing. "Am I dead?" She cried.

He whipped back and stared at her in shock. "What? No! Gods, I should hope not!"

"Well, why else wouldn't I be here? Of course I would be at Hogwarts in my seventh year! How else can I take my N.E.W.T.S?" Her face paled in horror and realization. "Something terrible must have happened! Oh my goodness, are my parents ill? Is that why I'm gone? Are my parents dead?"

"Hermione," Snape said firmly. He had his hands on both of her shoulders, jolting her back to reality. His eyes were locked on hers. Those beautiful dark obsidian pools calmed her. She breathed in deeply, then exhaled.

"These hysterics are beneath you." He's right, she thought. She wasn't even offended. "You are here, no doubt sent forward in time by Albus for some purpose. You are fighting in a war. You are no longer a child, Hermione. It only gets harder from here." He looked at her pointedly. "If you haven't thought through all the options of what must be done before now- which I sincerely doubt knowing your obsessive knack for planning- then it would do well to contemplate scenarios on your return."

She nodded, chagrined. She had started to think of what would be necessary in the coming conflict, she only hadn't fully admitted to herself that it would be so soon or so drastic. When she returned, she would finalize plans- safehouses, supplies for being on the run, perhaps a plan for her parents.

"I'm sorry. You're right." She lowered her head, sending bouncing curls in front of her face to hide. "I swear I'm not that immature most of the time." How mortifying. He's a man and I'm clearly still a girl.

He lowered his hands and shrugged his shoulders. Gods, he keeps staring at me.

Heat flooded her face as she peeked out from behind her hair to look back at him. He raised his right brow and his lips turned up slightly at the corners. "You go through a lot. You mature." He held out his hand towards her. "Come. You should rest. I will stay here until dawn."

She complied, scooting back against the wall to sit next to him again. They sat in comfortable silence for a bit before she started to get sleepy.

After some time, she found herself nodding off against his shoulder, but he didn't pull away. She didn't want him to.

When Hermione awoke, Snape was gone and there was a faint light coming through the boarded-up windows of the Shack. Casting a Tempus charm, she was surprised to discover it was past 10. I guess it's hard to get a lot of daylight in here.

Hermione took Snape's suggestion of changing clothes, at least since her uniform wasn't the most comfortable thing she had. She changed into jeans and a comfortable blouse, keeping a jumper nearby in case it got chilly. Then she rummaged in her satchel for something to eat and drink. It was a light breakfast of snacks and water, as she wanted to save some of the high-protein fuel for the mission. After all, what if she had to save someone from dying of hunger or malnutrition? Unlikely, but it was better to be prepared.

She settled down to read her book, Medicinal Magic: A Helpful Guide for the Aspiring Mediwitch by Xanthe Bishop-Cook. She was pleased to find out that Ms. Bishop-Cook took a lot of inspiration from muggle healthcare and life-saving techniques. Hermione was fascinated that she hadn't learned any of these concepts before, but it made sense that wizards would have equivalent first-aid replacements for concepts like Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation (an adapted bubble-head charm plus a spell called Velox Incutio to pound the chest with), intravenous fluids (creating a cut in the vein, inserting the tip of the wand, and incanting Salimenti Tarda) and blood transfusions (blood replenishing potion). It was all so fascinating!

She was already half-way through the book and was starting the section on removing dark magic from the body (there seemed to be some professional disagreement as to whether it was best to start fluid replacement before or after performing the counter-curse) when she heard a crack.

Leaping to her feet, dropping the book quickly, and drawing her wand, Hermione prepared for the worst.

"Hello, Miss."

She looked down. There was a house elf at her feet.

"Oh!" She lowered her wand and knelt down. "Hello, how are you?"

"I is fine miss. Headmaster sent to see if you has eaten yet miss."

"He did?" She was puzzled. I suppose Professor Snape told Professor Dumbledore I was here. Either that or Dumbledore remembers sending me forward and knew where I would be. "Thank you, I would appreciate some lunch…er…What is your name?"

"I is Beppy, Miss."

She smiled brightly. "Thank you, Beppy. Just a sandwich and some fruit would do."

"Oh no, Miss. Headmaster says, give Miss more than what she asks for. Headmaster knows you is hungry Miss."

Beppy popped away and was back in another few seconds with a tray of grilled chicken, a small salad, a cup of creamy chicken soup, tea, and a small round strawberry cake. Hermione thanked the elf and tucked in. She was glad the house elf left her in peace to eat because she was famished. She ended up eating the entire meal and was even glad of the cake. She found herself appreciative that Dumbledore had the foresight to send so much food.

She picked up her book again and continued to read. The first half of the book introduced the different healing spells and how they compared to muggle methods and interacted with the body while the second half of the book was more about how to put the spells into practice. While the book wouldn't make her a mediwitch simply by reading, it was a very thorough overview. She thought she could at least skim the major points and finish the book by mid-afternoon before rereading the more relevant sections in depth.

Hermione was a very quick reader, and she ended up being right about her self-imposed timeline of mid-afternoon. She had just finished reading through the concluding points of each chapter and was circling back to focus on Poisons and Spiritual Possession before moving on to Injuries from Cursed Objects or Creatures when another crack interrupted her thoughts.

Jumping to her feet again, wand drawn, she gaped as she found the source of the noise.

There he was again, this time in full Professor Snape regalia. His black cloak billowed around him as the velocity of apparition faded. He looked powerful and terrifying and his expression only enhanced that impression.

"Granger! Is there a reason you are not disillusioned?"

She gulped, lowering her wand. "No, sir." She whispered. Then she had a thought and forgot about being cowed. "Wait, sir. I thought you couldn't apparate into the Shrieking Shack…since it is warded as part of the Hogwarts grounds…that is unless…" She remembered the question she had asked Dumbledore before entering the Room of Requirement. One of the few benefits of being the Headmaster.

She gasped. "You're the Headmaster! What happened to Professor Dumbledore?"

"Not now, Granger! I am pressed for time and I am not at liberty to satisfy your curiosity. This is urgent."

Snape scowled, then billowed away from her. He began to pace back and forth around the small room as he spoke, seemingly to himself but at a volume she could hear. "Lucius and Bellatrix were imbeciles to keep everything to themselves until today. The capture…the Manor…yet they couldn't hide a bloody fucking dragon rampage from the Dark Lord." He looked up at Hermione then, meeting her eyes before he continued to pace. He spoke directly to her now. "Tell her I must speak with her. I must speak to Potter, truly, but she can be present or even a go-between if he is unable to keep his temper leashed for long enough to listen." He paused, both in speech and in stride, thinking. He nodded once, then continued pacing. "Definitely the both of them and Weasley as well if he is with them."

"I- I don't know what you mean, sir."

He whipped around to face her. "Surely you are in touch with her by now, as you are still here. It is vital that I speak to her and to Potter."

She bit her lip and almost stammered like a first year. Last I saw him he was so different! He completely upends me with this back and forth. What persona will he be next? More of Professor Snape or…my lover?

His face contorted and he snarled, answering her unspoken confusion. "YOU! The Hermione in this time has already done this before, correct? She knows you are waiting here, and she can explain your presence to her nitwit companions as she has already lived through it. Or she can pretend the information comes from another, Merlin knows they won't question her inconceivable ability to solve all of their dilemmas without them lifting a finger. Whether you are in touch with her currently or you simply remember this conversation two years from now, know that I must meet with them as soon as possible!"

He was breathing heavily through his nose, trying not to show it. His fists were clenched, and she saw sweat running down his brow. He's afraid, she thought.

She didn't answer for a bit, waiting for his breath to calm.

"Then time is a loop, sir? It must be if I'll remember this."

He scowled and turned his head, but she saw one corner of his tight lips jerk upward. Almost like it's a weakness to show he's laughing.

She smiled at him, glad to lighten the mood even a little. "I'm not in touch with her- with me- but I'll remember what you said." She looked at him attentively, concerned for his worry. "Is there anything else you need me to…pass on?"

"Yes." Snape came close to her now, standing before her. He was so close she could smell him. He smelled fresher this time- he must have showered this morning. Less like the smell of old books and more like the smell of new, crisp parchment. She loved both smells.

She looked up at him. His black eyes were flashing. "I swear to you," he whispered softly, his voice dark, low, and smooth, "I had no knowledge of what occurred over the last few days until now. If I had, I would have been there, I swear to it. I would have protected you, no matter the cost. The school, the Dark Lord, even Potter and Albus be damned." He said the last piece in a low, melodic rumble. He's so passionate. Fervent.

Her eyes widened. "I don't understand," she whispered. "What has happened?"

Snape closed his eyes, his brow pinched. "Things are coming to a head now. The timing of your mission is exact, as expected. The Dark Lord is infuriated and will not let his followers sleep until you, Potter, and Weasley are captured or killed." He opened his eyes, meeting hers. "What remains to be seen is who will be victorious, but there is no doubt that there will be…a culmination. Pray it is a battle rather than a slaughter."

"How soon?"

"Days, if that. Perhaps hours."

She nodded, a lump in her throat. Be brave, Hermione.

"And you know your mission?" He said quietly.

She nodded again. No use in telling him how vague the note was. That will only make him worry.

"Good." Snape raised his hand and cupped it to her cheek. She pressed her face back against it, having grown accustomed to his touch over the last day. She had missed him earlier, in fact.

Her eyes were locked on his as he spoke softly. "Remember that I…that I have always…"

He grimaced as if in pain and looked away. "Damn."

"It's alright," Hermione said gently. "You don't have to say it. I'll remember."

He looked back at her. His thumb rubbed against her cheek and moved to her lower lip. He traced it tenderly. She felt herself slowly flush, but knew it wasn't from embarrassment. She wanted to kiss that thumb, move her head and kiss his hand, lift up to him and kiss his lips…

She wasn't sure how it would be received. I'm not the right Hermione, she thought bitterly.

Slowly, he removed his hand from her face, dropping it so that it stroked some curls lightly on the way down. No longer touching her, he breathed in and exhaled deeply. He stepped back a pace and nodded to her.

A crack and he was gone.

I can't believe it, she thought. He loves me.

A/N:

*Velox Incutio = Swift Pounding

*Salimenti Tarda = basically a corruption of Aguamenti, only for a Saline solution, Sal meaning salt/saline and Tarda meaning slow

I have looked up the HP timeline for May 1, 1998 and I believe I have the events in line, for the most part. This is an attempt at canon compliance minus epilogue.

I have no idea about the apparition into the Shrieking Shack thing, but it makes sense to me.