Author's Note:
The Houses Competition (or THC)
House: Hufflepuff
Class: Astronomy
Prompt: 1. [Action] Running, 14. [Word] Deep-Purple Sky
Word Count: 2,982
Disclaimers/triggers: Descriptions of Severus' bad childhood. Minor injury. Time angst. SS/HG-romance only happens when everyone's an adult.
Beta Love: Thanks to Ti and Vee for betaing my story! :)
Additional Notes: Well, I guess it's time to break out the tissues again.
Moments in Time
"Get back here, boy!" His father's furious voice knifed through the air, and Severus pumped his scrawny legs as hard as he could.
The dying light of the summer sun turned the sky a deep purple around the dark form of the boy in an oversized coat. The summer was still holding on, but the cold came more quickly once the sun dipped below the horizon. Severus gritted his teeth and pushed himself forward until his side burned. It was only when he was surrounded by the cheerful calls of thousands of crickets that he allowed himself to stop, falling to his knees on the grass.
It was nearly dark when he finally turned back to look at the lights winking in the distance. They looked so cheerful from far away. He clutched at himself, hating the tears that stung his eyes.
A golden light grew in his periphery, and Severus turned quickly, pulling a folding knife from his pocket. It was a small, dull thing, but it'd work in a pinch. His legs still ached from running, and he didn't have the energy to flee.
"Who goes there?" he squeaked. He was only eight years old. Hogwarts was still years away, and his mum wouldn't let him touch her wand without supervision.
"Hello there. It's a bit dark out to be all alone so far from town," said a pleasant voice.
The golden light resolved into the figure of an elderly woman with long, silver hair that bunched around her face in wild curls. She wore brown robes that billowed gracefully around her in the wind. His emotions wavered from excitement to fear. What if she was there to take him to Azkaban? He'd cast accidental magic earlier when his father had thrown a bottle at him. It had exploded against an invisible wall, and bits of glass and whiskey had rained down on the drunken man's face. Perhaps, though, she was something even worse.
"Are you a ghost?" he blurted out.
She laughed, warm and bubbly, as she shook her head. "No, Severus. I'm here because you need me."
"I'm not an idiot," he said, growing suspicious, "I know not to go with strangers." He'd heard of strange men snatching kids. Rumor was that they sold kids to companies to work in the places down the mines where adults couldn't reach.
The witch straightened up and fixed him with a kind smile. "I know. I wasn't sure if this was going to be the first time we met or not."
That seemed like a strange thing to say. Then, Severus realized that she knew his name. "What, exactly, do you mean?"
"This might be the first time you are meeting me, but it isn't the first time I've met you," she replied, and though Severus tried to remain suspicious, his curiosity grew.
"You're bleeding," the woman said, her eyes full of concern.
She pulled out her wand and pointed it at his skinned knee. He hadn't noticed the pain until she pointed it out, but now it ached terribly. He watched, transfixed, as she held her wand tip near it and with a whispered incantation, his knee scabbed over.
"You'll still need to take it easy," she said sternly, "but now it won't get infected."
"Thanks," he mumbled, feeling suddenly shy.
"I'm Hermione," she said, holding out her hand. "It seems unfair that I know your name, but you don't know mine."
He hesitantly took her hand and shook it. "Thank you for fixing my knee."
He desperately wanted to know more about her, but it felt impossible to open his mouth and ask.
"You're welcome. I'd say more, but I don't think I have much longer." She pulled out her wand and conjured up a floating lantern. It spun in the air, casting a warm glow in the darkness. "I'll see you again soon."
As though on cue, she began to glow until her form was indistinct and golden, and before he could say anything, she was gone.
Hermione showed up nearly ten times before Severus got his Hogwarts letter. She appeared when he was alone and always in a time of great need. He learned little about her, but she was kind, and she listened to him, using her magic to mend his wounds or bring him a treat. She was like the gran he'd never had. Once he got his wand, she helped him practice and even provided him with a few tips on how to improve his spellwork that weren't in his books.
She never asked him to keep her a secret, but he did anyway, and he delighted in knowing she would be there when he needed her.
Once he was at Hogwarts, Severus began to research time magic. Unfortunately, there wasn't much, and Severus finally had to petition Slughorn to request access to the Restricted Section.
"Why would you need to read those, my boy? You're a first-year student." Slughorn had said patronizingly.
"I am working on an independent study project," Severus replied. "If I find something interesting, it would only be because you provided me with this opportunity."
Slughorn considered this and then nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
With access to the Restricted Section, Severus learned about the theories surrounding time travel. Most were cautionary tales. The concept of something called a "Time-turner" was discussed briefly, but there were no pictures, and Severus concluded that the object must be either theoretical or highly guarded by the Ministry. There was no way that they would allow a student to use one.
Severus was nursing a split lip and aching ribs over by the stables after a fight with Sirius Black. He'd fought back, but the pathetic scratch he'd dealt had only made Black angrier.
"Tough day?" Hermione asked, appearing next to him. Her hair had darkened, and he had to struggle not to ask her about it. Instead, he just nodded and let her heal him.
"Those two—Potter and Black—they hate me," he groused. "But I don't care. I hate them back."
"Does hating them help you?" Hermione asked.
Severus thought for a moment. "Not exactly," he finally said, "but when I get mad, I stop being scared."
"Perhaps that's how it seems," Hermione replied sagely, "but you might find that your anger lies to you. The fear still remains. And, if anything, with anger, it grows."
Severus tried to put it out of his head, but her words haunted him for a long time.
"You're getting younger," Severus remarked when Hermione materialized as he stood out by the Black Lake. He'd been contemplating jumping in and letting the frigid water and Grindylows do the rest.
"In some ways, yes," she replied. "In others, not at all. It's a matter of perspective, Severus."
"Time," Severus recited from memory, "is a direction in which you can travel, but the effects of time on your own body are internally consistent. Which means I don't die today because you're from my future."
"Technically," she replied cryptically, "but you need to understand that the me who you've known is a me that I haven't yet been."
Severus shivered.
"Aren't you cold? I brought something for you," She handed him a thermos full of hot cocoa, then pulled something from her robes. It was a thick, dark cloak.
"I can't take that!" he protested, "it's far too nice!"
"Don't worry," she insisted, "It's nearly Christmas anyway."
Gently, he ran his fingers over the fabric. The lining was soft and plush, while the exterior felt somewhat tacky.
"It'll keep you dry when you need it to," she explained.
"Thank you," he said, overwhelmed by both gratitude and an odd disgust, as though her generosity was insulting. "But won't it change something in time?"
"I can't explain it, but no. I've tested it. Nothing big sticks. You'll see...later...because it's earlier for me, but anything localized and easy to fold into the flow of time, like food, clothing, or small trinkets, seem to work as long as they don't affect the larger flow of events."
"For what it's worth, it means a lot to me." The warmth soaked into his skin.
"I know it seems like a bit much," she said, her cheeks rosy, "but you're very important to me, Severus."
She winked before she faded away again.
By the time Severus was in his last year at Hogwarts, he couldn't deny it any longer. Hermione had de-aged so significantly that she looked more like someone's mum.
"So," she said, her eyes sad as she twisted the silver band on her index finger, "Any plans for the summer?"
He knew what she thought of the Dark Lord and his ilk, but Severus was getting desperate to find a profession before graduation. He'd been trying to curry favor with Lucius Malfoy by tutoring his betrothed, Narcissa Black in Potions, and it had paid off. He planned to meet the Malfoy patriarch over the summer holidays, and Lucius had heard whisperings that Severus could be of great use to the right sort.
"I'll be fine," he said, "I've been told there's an opportunity opening up in my field."
"Please…" She took his hand gently in hers and then gently ran her fingers over his forearm, all the while looking sad. "Be careful."
He resisted the urge to pull away in anger. She had no idea what it was like...or did she? If she was from the future, then she must know at least something of what would come to pass.
"Can't you tell me—" he started.
"You know, you remind me of someone I know. Someone I hope you get to meet one day." She smiled sadly.
"I'm not sure what that has to do with anything!" he snapped.
"I'm sorry," she replied. "Even if I did tell you, it wouldn't stop any of it from happening. All I can tell you is this; keep your eyes open, and listen hard. Protect yourself. No cause in this world is worth dying for."
Two years had passed without a single visit, leaving a raw spot in Severus' heart that would not heal. He'd spent the time making bad, then worse choices, but this one had to be the mother of them all.
The new Mark burned down to his bones. Severus gritted his teeth in agony as he wrapped it in salve, but it only muted the pain to a dull roar. His whole body felt sluggish with suffering, his forehead slick with sweat as he lay on the floor of his tiny flat.
"Severus!"
His head whipped around, and there she was in a voluminous cloak, running to his side. Something was strange in her gait, but this barely registered as a sharp lightning bolt of pain shot from the mark into his magical core. It was embedding itself into him like a parasite, drawing from his power. For the thousandth time, he cursed himself for his hubris, for thinking that the Dark Lord had been an opportunity, and not a trap.
"Am I going to die?" He grit out the words as she gently eased him up onto the bed.
Her body pressed strangely into his, and some part of his mind registered what was different, but the pain was still too great to think clearly.
"Not from this."
It was one of the first straight answers she'd ever given. She pulled something from her robes. Something was written on it in a familiar hand, and he felt relief from the pain as she spread it over the raw, bloody Dark Mark.
"But I'm going to die?" he asked, looking up into her eyes with terrified eyes.
"We all die eventually, Severus," she said, smiling sadly and holding his gaze with her own. Her nose was nearly touching his, but she didn't pull away.
Something wild and strange bubbled up through his belly, and he closed the distance between their lips, stealing her gasp with a kiss.
Her belly pressed against him as he pulled her to him with his good arm, and he realized finally what his mind had caught upon earlier.
"You're pregnant?" he gasped in shock.
At this point, she seemed only somewhat older than he was, and he couldn't imagine himself ever becoming a parent, not in this time of war and death.
She drew back and sat at the foot of the bed, her face growing both fierce and slightly bashful.
"Who's the father, then?"
He was somewhat embarrassed and angry himself, especially considering that his first kiss had been with someone who had apparently already gone much further with someone else.
She gave him a look but didn't say anything, and a strange realization flickered in his belly.
It hadn't been someone else.
"How?"
His pain seemed to vanish as he sat up, and pressed his hand on her belly and felt the butterfly motions of movement under his fingers.
She let out a bark of laughter. "The usual way."
"When?" he asked, seriously.
"Not long, now, for you at least," she whispered, her eyes soft and happy as he kissed her cheek.
"At least I know why you didn't visit," he said, adding, "and for good reason!"
"How long?" she asked, her voice soft.
"Two years." He leaned into her, breathing in the scent of her hair and realizing that every moment he spent being a git about it, the less time he could spend with her. "That was my first kiss, you know."
"How about another, then?" Her smile was bittersweet and hungry, and they kissed again.
When it got worse, when people were going missing, Severus had one nightly secret that kept him sane.
The next time she'd appeared, he had given her a small silver band, which she placed on her index finger.
"I know we can't do more officially," he said, kissing her hand, "but in all other ways, my heart is yours. It has been for some time now, and I suspect it will be for as long as I live."
Her eyes teared up, and she nodded, embracing him tightly as he marveled at the minor swell in her waist. She wasn't very far along, but he already knew what was to come.
"Thank you, Severus," she whispered, and they made the most of their time in the darkness.
The Dark Lord had fallen, Lily had died, and Severus knew that the Aurors would likely come for him in the morning. And, just like clockwork, as he reached his quarters, there she was, the light dissipating from around her form.
He kissed her deeply, then drew back and whispered his intent in her ear.
"Are you sure?" she asked giddily when he pulled away.
"You will soon know just how sure I am," he panted in reply.
"You're so tiny!" he exclaimed, pacing back and forth in his quarters after the Sorting. "How?! How is it possible?"
"I've been in two places at the same time before," Hermione mused, sipping on the tea he'd brewed for her.
He shot her a look. "I'm not sure I want to know."
"Have you seen her yet?" Hermione asked.
"I was just telling you—"
"It's fine," she replied, "you'll see her soon. I've seen her a few times already. I think you'll like her."
Of course, he wanted to know more, but she silenced his questions with a well-timed kiss.
Severus found it ironic that the first time he kissed Hermione wasn't his first time kissing her. By now, he knew exactly what she liked, from the pressure of lips to the way he tangled her hair in his fingers to kiss her neck. She leaned into him with a sigh, and he felt his heart soar and wither at the same time, knowing that soon, everything would be at its end.
He saw the other Hermione—a student and nothing more—getting older as his Hermione grew younger, as he knew more about what they had shared, and she knew less, slipping into a nervous manner of interaction instead of familiar and loving.
He grew bitter and angry with the other Hermione in classes even though he knew she didn't realize that her very existence was a cruel reminder that a definitive end was on the horizon. He had already come to the conclusion that whatever happened after would not end well for him.
His Hermione had never given him a clear answer, but he was certain that there was no reason why she would have flung herself back in time over and over again to be with him if he lived to the end of what Albus was certain would be a second war. Severus did not want to live if it meant that he would never have met Hermione back in his time of need. He would not have survived without her.
She came to him for the last time just before the final battle, and he remembered her warning all those years ago. She'd grabbed Severus by the wrist and tried to portkey him away. The universe shifted and suddenly, the portkey wasn't in her hand any longer.
"Please, sir! You've got to—" she cried, the words dying in her throat.
"You can't tell me things about the future directly, you silly girl," he replied curtly.
"I won't give up!" Her eyes filled with tears.
He placed a hand on her shoulder and fixed her with a gentle look. "You've spent a lifetime with me already, Hermione. You're the reason I've made it here. I don't regret what will happen."
The deep-purple sky outside the Headmaster's office signaled that the end was near.
She threw her arms around him, sobbing into his robes as she began to fade.
"I'll see you again soon," he said softly, not letting go until she completely disappeared.
