Hermione didn't know how she ended up curled in an armchair in Professor Snape's quarters, sipping earl gray and telling him her life story, and yet there she was.
It all started when Hermione chose to stay in the Great Hall when the envoy of Gryffindors escorted Harry up to the common room.
She had good reasoning for staying behind, she had reasoned. Harry seemed to be in good company, as they were very indignant that someone had put his name in the goblet without his permission. Ron, in his usual boisterous manner, told anyone who would listen that Harry hadn't put his name in, oftentimes to someone who already knew. She preferred to let things unfold, and hopefully Harry would be able to make a few allies without her interference. Instead, she ambled off to her abandoned classroom, intent on relaxing after her long day and perhaps brewing some burn potions.
Just as she was about to open the door, however, someone grabbed her arm.
Hermione whirled around, immediately drawing her wand. The hand stayed quite tightly on her left arm, and she was sure she would bruise. The figure was shrouded in dark, the torch down the hall not supplying enough light to identify her assailant.
"What do you want? Who are you?" Hermione said quickly.
The grip on Hermione's arm faltered for a moment, and she broke free.
Lumos, she thought, and the angry face of Severus Snape appeared in front of her. "Snape? What do you want?"
"Tut tut, Miss Granger. Out after curfew, attacking a professor. Someone may get suspicious of your intentions. What exactly have you been doing in this classroom, hmm?"
Hermione kept her face blank. "The Gryffindor common room was too loud. I just wanted to get some peace and quiet."
"Do not lie to me, girl," Snape said darkly, "I have seen you entering and leaving this room for months, and the wards are stronger than any student should be able to cast."
Hermione quirked her lips. So he hadn't been able to get past her wards? "This is no laughing matter. I saw your occlumency shields, and I saw you, just now, cast silently. You've been acting abnormally enough that I'm not the only one who's noticed. Someone in this castle put Mr. Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire, and right now you are the most suspicious person in the school.
"That is saying something indeed, considering all of the questionable characters we are hosting. Now tell me, who are you?"
Hermione gaped. He thought she was being impersonated. "What do you mean, who am I? I've been your student for four years, Professor, surely you remember me?"
"Lacewing flies, boomslang skin, all sorts of ingredients have been going missing this year. And you've warded this room quite well, but you forgot to ward against smells. It takes more than a locked door to hide potions from a potions master."
If the situation weren't so dire, Hermione would laugh at the conclusions Snape came to. They weren't really that illogical, but they were quite far off nonetheless. She decided that continuing to play dumb was her best move. "Listen, Professor, I don't quite know why you think I'm to do with all of these things, but I'm really just Hermione Granger. I wouldn't steal from a teacher, and I have absolutely no clue why you think I'd endanger my best friend."
And maybe it was the fact that she hadn't slept for around thirty-six hours, maybe it was the darkness of the corridor, or perhaps even her battle-ready reactions were slipping. Either way, when Snape threw a silent pertificus totalus, Hermione went down like a ton of bricks.
With a muttered mobilicorpus, he started levitating Hermione, presumably to the dungeons. "I don't know who you are, but I will find out."
She fought against the spell, closing her eyes – the only part of her she could move – and trying to regain the use of her limbs. But it was useless, and soon they were entering Snape's office. Once inside, she was tied to a chair tightly, but released from the body bind.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Severus Snape?" Hermione screamed, struggling to escape from the ties. They seemed to be imbued with some sort of magic she hadn't come across.
"We have exactly a quarter hour before your Polyjuice wears off, so if you don't want me to kill you on sight when you change into whoever you are, you will start talking. Now."
Hermione stared him down angrily, mindful of the wand pointed directly at her. "As I told you before, I am Hermione Granger."
"Impossible." Snape scoffed. "Hermione Granger acts nothing like you. She is an outspoken know-it-all, and has no occlumency shields like you."
Hermione tried to think of a better explanation – anything, besides the truth, but she had no idea how to convince Snape that she wasn't a threat. It might actually be worse if she waited and she didn't transform at the end of the fifteen minutes; there was no way she could pass for a fifteen-year-old Hermione anymore, especially if he decided to use legilimancy, now that would be a disaster.
She ended up explaining a modified version of the truth. "Here me out, Snape. I am Hermione Granger. But- no, let me finish- I'm much older than the Hermione Granger you've known." He looked at her quizzically, lifting a single brow, so she continued, "I've been using a time turner to take as many electives as possible. And don't give me that look, Dumbledore did it too, so it's allowed. What they don't know is how much extra I've used the time turner."
Snape considered her words, then shook his head, dismissing them. "It makes little sense, still. You can only travel back twenty-four hours with a time turner."
"That's true, but there's actually no known limit on how many times one can go back and relive the same twenty-four hours." Hermione replied. She hoped this was enough, he could accept that she'd learned much more than she was supposed to know because she had abused the time turner. She knew there were a few flaws in that explanation, however. It wouldn't act as an answer, but if she could get away long enough to craft a better story, or obliviate him-
"This makes no sense. Unless you have a natural affinity for occlumency – which I know you do not – that still does not explain the skills you've learned in the mind arts. That method cannot be self-taught; I know, because I use it too. I'm weary of this foolishness. Reveal yourself, whoever you are, or I will find it for myself."
Hermione glared at him, honey brown eyes meeting dark obsidian. "You really want to know? Do you? Come and look, then."
Hermione lowered her occlumency shields, just enough for Snape to get past, and she felt the uncomfortable presence of another in her mind. The last time she had felt this was with Draco, as he was teaching her. She gave him what he wanted: her memories.
Millions of moments flashed through her mind. Hermione, seventeen, swore to help Harry find all the horcruxes and destroy Voldemort once and for all.
Harry, defeating Voldemort with the elder wand. The celebrations, the tears over their lost comrades – Remus, Tonks, Dobby, Snape – their dead bodies all flashed before her eyes as she cried into Ron's shoulder. Grief, mingled with the relief of victory.
Her absolute horror when, instead of a wedding, she went to Harry's funeral. Realizing Voldemort had returned once more.
Meeting Draco for the first time since Voldemort's third return, her skepticism, her eventual trust in him; the icky feeling of learning occlumency, the hours and hours of practice they spent helping one another learn skills to survive.
Fighting Voldemort, again, face to face, screaming her revenge and throwing curse after curse.
Figuring out how he survived, yet again. The white face of Draco as he realized that the monster who had killed his parents had split his soul into a thousand pieces; their plans to travel back in time to first year, to start over, make things right –
Draco, laying in the Veil, stuck in the future; her pain over losing her friend, the realization that she had returned to the wrong year.
And sadness. Overwhelming, unending sadness that she was alone, and she was the only one who knew how to defeat Voldemort.
Snape recoiled sharply from her mind. The whole exchange had taken mere seconds, and Snape was only just processing Hermione's true history. His face was more expressive than she'd ever seen it; horrified, a little fearful, and angry all at once.
"This is our future? The future of our world?" He said shakily.
"It was." Hermione said gently. "It has already been altered more than you'd imagine."
Snape seemed to be at a loss for words (a first, she noted), so Hermione expanded on the impressions he'd gotten. "You're right, I didn't learn occlumency on my own. Draco taught me three years ago. I learned that and warding out of necessity, and two years of battle. The resistance was dwindling – it was barely a hundred people, when Draco and I left."
"And what of the Dark Lord? How did he return to life twice?"
Hermione sighed. She had a lot of explaining to do, it seemed. "Could you untie me, first? And perhaps some tea? This will be a long conversation."
AN: I have been waiting for this chapter for so long, so you lucky ducks get two chapters in a day! What do you think of Snape? Do you think Hermione made a bad choice?