Hermione retreated to her bedroom. She changed her clothes one more time into soft pajama pants and a thin strapped camisole top. She removed her earrings, the only jewelry she wore every day, and placed them on her white vanity top. She climbed into bed, grateful that it was the weekend and she didn't have a shift the following day. She knew sleep would be elusive, or, unsettled at best. Draco had stayed another hour with her.
"I think I saved him."
Draco's eyes had widened at her. Then he shook his head, and Hermione had regret at expressing her thought. She drew in upon herself, curling into her body on the end of the couch she occupied. Draco had chosen to look at the floor, shoulders slightly slouched, fingers clasped together in the space they hung between his legs. "I don't think that's possible. It couldn't have been you."
Hermione knew this was true; but she had been feeling responsible for Severus Snape's fate for almost three years now, and she couldn't ever completely accept it. As she had knelt on the floorboards of the Shrieking Shack that night, she had tried in vain to stem the blood flow from his wounds and searched her beaded bag for any potion that could have helped him. But she had failed to summon anything to her hand, except the empty bottle Harry requested, and watched the silvery tears roll down Snape's cheeks. He had stilled, and Hermione had left, leaving him behind. She had been trying to find a way to change that almost ever since. "I know. You're right. But someone did, Draco. Someone had to have helped him."
"How? How could someone have done that? There was so much chaos during the battle, and no one knew where he even was until it was all over. And even then," he paused to square up to Hermione. She saw him working the problem. "There was still too much happening. The only people that wanted to know what had happened to him were the Aurors and Order. They had my family identifying the Death Eater dead, asking questions, accusing…I don't remember being asked about him, though. Maybe my mother was asked, we became separated at one point. But it still doesn't explain how someone would have been able-or willing-to help him. To the Order, he had betrayed them, and for the remaining Death Eaters, they were far too concerned for their own well-being."
"I know. I've thought of all of this too." Hermione relaxed, thankful to have Draco to sound off against. "It couldn't have been another Death Eater. And Harry didn't clear Snape's name until days later, which would have been too late. We discovered that his body was gone that night when we went back to get it. All I do know is that Andromeda is helping him now, and she's not talking."
He was nodding at her, following her thoughts with ease. She inhaled and spoke one more time, "Plus, there's the actual 'how' of it. I don't know any spell that can transport someone through time or put them in two places at once. The only way to do that was with a Time Turner, but they were all destroyed at the end of fifth year. And they only worked across hours, not days."
Draco reached a hand out, hesitatingly resting it on her leg. Hermione swallowed thickly at his behavior, it was unlike him to initiate any physical contact with her, but it seemed to have its intended impact for her eyes immediately locked on his. "Severus Snape was a powerful wizard-more advanced that most people knew. Hell, he had me fooled almost my entire life. And he was equally as secretive. The man never slipped; it was how he had managed to survive the first and-apparently-second wars. He must have found a way to save himself, Hermione."
When Hermione awoke the next morning, it was after an unproductive, short sleep. She laid in bed and replayed her conversations with Malfoy, trying to glean new insight to how Severus Snape had truly put "a stopper in death". But Hermione was struggling to make sense of the "how". He could not have acted completely on his own, and Hermione began to turn her focus to the list of potential accomplices he could have used. Andromeda wasn't possible, she wasn't involved at the battle. Members of the Order were out, as were the Death Eaters. Malfoy was right about that-there wasn't an advantage to either side saving Snape. But it had to be someone with skill and means. Someone with a personal attachment to the man. Hermione rose from her bed and began crossing her room, her eye catching a shimmer in the muted glow of the morning.
It was sitting on her vanity top. It was not sitting on the plain white surface the night before; she would have noticed when she removed her earrings before climbing into bed. But it was there now. Small, gold glinting in the early light through the window. It was unmistakable, and her fingers had a slight tremble as she tentatively reached for it; the list of questions forming behind her wide brown eyes. It was smaller than she remembered, and as her fingers clasped its smooth metal, it settled in her palm with a lightness that betrayed the heavy weight of its power. She looked back to the vanity surface where it had sat. A small slip of parchment, writing she recognized: Severus Snape resides in Thistlebook House, Edinburgh.
Suddenly, Hermione Granger understood the Time Turner in her hand. Malfoy's words rushing through her mind with a velocity it almost caused an ache. "They had my family identifying the Death Eater dead, asking questions, accusing…I don't remember being asked about him, though. Maybe my mother was asked, we became separated at one point."
A/N: It's not a long update, I know. But this story has reached over 50 Followers and I wanted to drop a little something as a token of my appreciation. As you can see, we've come full circle to the prologue. Thank you all for keeping with this little story. Please continue to share your thoughts with a review or message.
-Archer
