Author's Note:

I am currently writing this in Cornwall staring at the very picturesque village of Fowey (pronounced Foy, apparently) on holiday with my parents. Cornwall has really got my creative juices flowing and this seemed the chapter to write while I'm here. In this chapter you get the mechanics of how Hermione came to de-age and sustain it – I've incorporated some elements from other stories which you will probably recognise to make it fit. Hope you enjoy reading it!

DaenerysTargary3n

Chapter Eight:

All hell kicked off between the Snapes as Harry and Morgana spectated, along with Dumbledore whose eyes remained piercing and speculative. Hermione's idea was sound – to shadow The Boy Who Lived as a friend and a contemporary. She had the method (and the madness, according to her fuming husband) to accomplish it. It would take considerable magical power and she would need Severus to act as her anchor. While the spell that Hermione had uncovered in a rare volume in the Spinner's End library, apparently in a Merlinian Grimoire that was from the ancient wizard's dark years, would make her appear younger, such a spell would render her a Squib. It would take her entire magical core to power and maintain the illusion – so for the duration of the spell, as Harry and Morgana understood it, she would have all the magical capabilities of a Muggle. Enter Severus. Severus' own magical core would be shared with his wife – halving his own power so that his wife might maintain a fraction of her natural ability but also giving them the ability to share thoughts, intentions, strength across miles.

As Severus and Hermione bandied words and argued, Harry watched as Dumbledore did nothing. The wizened wizard watched as husband and wife bickered and argued and maligned each other but all because they believed so strongly and were willing to fight so furiously for the world they wanted their daughter to grow up in. Harry wondered, and had done at times over the years, if Dumbledore merely played chess with all of them. He moved a single piece and then made moves and countermoves against Voldemort, sacrificing certain pieces for others. He would do nothing to save the Snapes. He would allow them to set aside their lives and their daughter's life for him, for the greater good.

"Your parents were the bravest people I knew." Harry stated plainly. "There is no doubt."

Morgana smiled, "They were and even though papa right now is trying to guilt mama into letting it go, he was so proud of her later for finding this way to save you."

"I'm glad they came to terms with her plan."

"Despite appearances, Harry, papa supported her every minute as far as I remember. They knew from this Hallowe'en night that in roughly eleven years' time, mama would change for years and the life they knew would end. They crammed as much as they could into my early years so I would understand and so they would have given me all they could of a normal childhood, given the circumstances. They were a single mind, a single heart and a single purpose, I suspect, from the second this argument finished."

"Tell me about it. What it was like growing up with both of them. I've never known that. I would like to know what it might have been like for me if I'd have been an honorary Snape." Harry requested, aware that his eyes were swimming with unshed tears.

"Alright. If you really want to know, but not here. Let's leave them to it. We know how this ends."

With that Morgana grasped Harry's hand, and tugged them from the memory, leaving her parents battering each other with their sharp tongues, full of love in their eyes and fear for each other in their hearts.

They sat together in one of the book-laden alcoves in the living quarters of the dungeon. It was cosier and more intimate than the couch they had been occupying since they embarked on this literal journey down memory lane. There was barely space for two people, but Morgana chose it as her place to tell her story. Harry could visualise Hermione occupying this space, this small cushioned sitting area that had bookshelves on both walls and hidden sconces to provide light to the eternal reader. Afternoons of 'Mione reading to Morgana as a young child while Severus read the paper on the sofa listening and watching occasionally sprang to mind. All the young man could hope was that Morgana would confirm his suspicion in her storytelling of her childhood.

"We lived at papa's family home – Spinner's End – until I was eleven. It wasn't a great house or anything special, as you've seen, but it was our home and we saw very few people. It was like the three of us were something secret and were the only people in the world when we were at home. When I was very young, I didn't understand why but papa was always so insistent that I wasn't missing out on anything by being kept away from other children and I worshipped him. He was always my hero. I spent so much of my life just watching him, trying to be just like him. Papa used to bring Albus to see me too – Albus was my godfather and the only person outside my family who I knew. I could never say his name right though, so, I used to call him 'hammer' because mama always called him Headmaster when I was present."

"So, you couldn't pronounce Headmaster, so you called him 'hammer'?" Harry clarified, giggling.

"I did it once and then it kind of stuck. Anyway, Albus, mama and papa were it for me in terms of other people. I didn't know until later, but the Death Eaters knew about my conception and there was the idea that I would be given to Lucius Malfoy's son, Draco. That never came to pass, obviously, and seeing what I did of him while he was at Hogwarts, I'm glad. Mama and papa knew that engagement would put their plan and my life in more danger when it came out that papa was not loyal to the Dark Lord as the others remained even after he disappeared at your parents' house. So, they claimed I was born a Squib and was 'dealt with'. Albus with his Ministry connections doctored all records to illustrate that a little girl was born to Hermione and Severus Snape on 30th September 1980, was named officially Morgana Eileen Snape on 31st October of the same year but was murdered on 06th December 1983, along with Hermione Jean Snape."

Harry felt the sudden urge to hold her and pulled her the short distance into his arms. "I'm sorry you were a secret. You deserved to grow up with friends and family and love in the open."

"I wouldn't have changed anything in those eleven years." Morgana whispered against his chest.

"What?"

"We grew up differently. You grew up in secret, not knowing who you were, unloved by your aunt and uncle and treated awfully. I grew up in secret and kept away from the world, but I had the full love and attention of both my parents, and I knew that they were special and that our time together was precious. Spinner's End was Fideliused and Albus was the Secret Keeper. We were safe there. I know your own Fidelius Charm was woefully inadequate, but it meant we got nearly eleven years of home and privacy before I had to move to Hogwarts."

Harry winced, remembering his 3rd year when he found out how Voldemort had circumvented the Fidelius Charm when Pettigrew replaced Sirius as his family's last line of defence. "Your parents chose wisely."

Morgana smiled serenely, "Life at Spinner's End was happy. Mama would stay at home and teach me when papa was at Hogwarts during term time. He'd come home in the holidays and we'd be together, often with Albus. Mama and I could never leave the house or its garden without Polyjuice Potion but we were happy."

"What about when you came to Hogwarts? I don't understand how anyone could live in that school as a child and not be noticed by the students or other professors." Harry wondered, enraptured by the tale of her bizarre life.

"Mostly, I kept to the dungeons and Albus, mama and papa would make time to give me my lessons there. The only things I never did were Flying, but I consider that no crying loss, and Divination. Neither mama nor papa cared much for Flying and mama had no patience for Divination. I believe it was her worst nightmare in the curriculum here. They do not offer it at Beauxbatons, you know."

Harry sniggered, recollecting vividly Hermione's outrage during their brief session with Professor Trelawney. Looking back on that time, knowing what he now knew about his witch friend, their 3rd year was probably the closest she had ever come to betraying her true age and life experience. He now assumed the gift of the Time Turner was not truly to allow her time to attend every lesson on the syllabus but to give more time to her family. When she was then faced with "the most difficult of all magical arts" (as its practitioner put it to them), she had rather self-combusted. She might have said during that incident that she was too old for Sybil Trelawney's rantings and ravings and abandoned Harry to his fate of Grims and ill omens.

"I'm not surprised, given her reaction to the two lessons she attended before walking out. Evidently, not even my safety and protective duty could make her suffer a year's worth of Professor Trelawney's Divination lessons."

Morgana's eyes glittered with her returned laughter, "Yes, I remember that. Mama couldn't stand her. She said she'd never come across a bigger waste of time. She railed at papa that he had better speak to Albus and get her out of it. She refused to go back and said such preposterous notions had no place in a school of learning. She couldn't believe Hogwarts taught such untestable rubbish. It was quite funny as a thirteen-year-old girl to watch your mama be so wound up in teenage hormones herself that she basically has a tantrum. I do think that if anything had tried to hurt you in a Divination class, she'd have probably left you to fend for yourself."

Glad that they could joke some about the circumstances of their formative years, Harry led her back to the topic of her. "And your own lessons, when you weren't learning to fly or divine the portents?"

"I had the best teachers Hogwarts could offer. Mama taught me in her spare time Charms, Herbology and Transfiguration. Papa taught me Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Astronomy. He also taught me Apparition this year, though with difficulty. He never could leave Hogwarts for long for fear of what the Carrows would do in his absence. Albus taught me History of Magic, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures – and by that, I mostly mean, feeding Fawkes."

"Did you never have anyone else to know even when they were right outside the dungeon doors?"

She smiled reflectively, "I snuck off to a few lessons when mama first changed. Your first year. I was in papa's first Potions lesson with you. He noticed though within seconds and mama kept trying to keep attention on herself by raising her hand so no one would notice I was quietly in the back. She wasn't a know-it-all at all, really. I kind of landed her in that. I was foolish, but I was alone and…I wanted to see you."

"Me?" Harry asked, mystified.

"Yes, of course. This boy I had heard about my whole life, now was within the same castle as me and I could see you, if not meet you. The Potions lesson was easy to get into – it was on the other side of a door, which you can well believe was heavily warded after my interloping. You do know, though, Harry, if you and Ron hadn't attracted trouble quite so magnificently, I might have had more time with mama."

Harry winced, "I'm sorry. I never looked for trouble. It just always seemed to find me. I really just wanted a normal time at school, you know. You weren't too lonely though, were you, really, while I stole 'Mione away on our adventures?"

Morgana held her own hands and played with the skin on her knuckles, remembering her nights when she missed her mama dearly but she preferred Harry's bedside, her hours left alone because Dumbledore, Severus and her mother met to discuss some new threat or other. "I was, if I'm being honest, Harry. I was lonely. I was an only child and was no one's priority. I was left to my own devices more often than not and taught myself a great deal alongside what mama, papa and Albus taught me. I tried so often to convince papa that I could attend lessons under another name, with another appearance and never give myself away. I could say I was a transfer from America and Albus could have supported it. But, he would have none of it and said such a thing would be too risky, too dangerous considering everything the family was already putting on the line. What if mama slipped up and called me Morgana or sweetheart? What if I called her mama? The height of horrors, what if in a lesson I called the indomitable Professor Snape papa? The first year wasn't so unbearable. We transitioned well, but your second year was excruciating."

"Why?" Harry asked, taking her left hand so he could stroke the offending knuckle in comfort.

"In the winter term, she was so preoccupied with you. When you missed the bloody train, she was frantic. She couldn't find you. For the first time, she thought she'd failed and lost you. Then, at bloody Halloween, you had to tell her you were hearing voices and you found Mrs Norris. She had an accident then, with the sodding Polyjuice Potion. Papa was livid. It took such work for him to put her back to normal. He was drained for weeks – they both were. While she was weakened, the worst happened."

Harry knew before she explained what 'the worst' was. "She was petrified." He chimed.

Morgana could but nod in response. "Yes. And we lost her. For the first time in my entire life, I was truly lonely. Even when she was far away, she was always within in reach if I desperately needed her. She was an owl, a fire floo call or a visit away. She was never out of reach. Until then. Papa was so distraught he could barely get through his lessons. Any time outside them was spent trying to hasten the process for the mandragora remedy. Albus was dealing with the board and the other professors. I was rather left to my own devices and by the wayside. Without her constancy and companionship, I felt adrift and it was the first time I felt the danger."

"I felt the same," Harry confessed with eyes sad with nostalgia, "without her. Even though she'd only been in my life – at least as far as I knew – a year. Even though the end of my 1st year was difficult, it didn't feel as hard as 2nd year, because she was there, helping, pulling me in the right direction. When she was in that hospital wing, I never needed her more."

"I know." Morgana whispered, her smile returning. "I used to sneak out of the dungeons – I found a loophole with the Polyjuice. I'd come up to the hospital wing after dark and sit with mama. So many nights, I found you already there. You spoke to her. You held her hand."

"I did, though I did it as much for myself as for her. She wasn't my first friend, but she was my kindest friend, and I missed her loads."

Morgana sighed, "Me too. It had one silver lining that time, though, Harry."

"What was that?"

"I learnt to forgive you. To forgive you for every moment of loneliness I had suffered because my parents needed to commit their time to you." Morgana moved even closer, so not even a Flobberworm could have squirmed between them. "I also, seeing you up close and alone, without Weasley or mama around you, while you talked to her and tried your best to comfort her, started to truly care for you. You were a kindred spirit – so lonely, so needful of mama, so bound by forces outside your control, as I was and still am. I started to love you, Harry, and I never stopped as we grew up."