A/N: Hey everyone! Here's a new chapter with a new content warning: this chapter contains adult language, graphic descriptions of bodily wounds, death, and mentions of PTSD and homicide. If any of these topics trigger or bother you, please take care of yourself and either don't read or brace yourself. For those of you continuing on with the story, enjoy!

Chapter 3

Travelers To Be Missed

The moon was getting higher in the sky as the sun set on Hogwarts. It should be a beautiful sight to see, but the rubble and blood spoils the view.

They were hiding in the shack, hidden under Harry's invisibility cloak as the dark figure of Snape flew into the room, and into the presence of Voldemort. He looked worried as he entered the room, and it unnerved her. He simply didn't look worried. It wasn't in him to look worried. What the hell were they up against if Severus Snape, one of the scariest men alive, was even just concerned about something, let alone worried?

Snape and his master spoke in turns, though Hermione was barely listening. All she was focused on was the snake that rolled and coiled in it's protective bubble next to its master. It was eerily human, as if it understood where to strike to make it hurt the most.

"You've been a good and faithful servant, Severus," the evil man's voice hissed through his snake-like face, "I am sorry for what I must do… but it is necessary."

"Please... my lord, I beg you…"

He's begging? When in the fresh fuck did Severus Snape beg for anything? He's too powerful to beg… he's too strong… he shouldn't have to…

And then the snake was there, it's bubble flowing over the current Headmaster of Hogwarts like water as he scrambled backwards, away from it, begging his master to spare him, to spare his life. But it was too late.

No… no it can't be too late...

But it was.

The snake lashed over and over, hitting Snape again and again in the neck. She watched as her Potions professor fell to the floor in a bloodied, poisoned heap, gagging and retching with what little strength he had left. She watched as he scraped to collect the shattered remnants of his life.

Voldemort apparated away without a word.

Snape was stilling, his eyes looking for something, for someone, who wasn't there. Harry made the first move, lifting the invisibility cloak from the trio and standing up so Professor Snape could see him. Hermione would've been the first to do that, but she'd been paralyzed by the Basilisk of a killing that they'd just witnessed.

Weasley...Ron?...Weasley helped her stand and the threesome approached the dying man slowly. Harry was a bit faster than either Hermione or Weasley, and he knelt beside the dark man.

Hermione stood just behind Harry, speechless.

She watched as the scene began to melt until all that was left was the Shack, Snape, and Hermione, alone together. She met his eyes, dark and black and deep…

...Just like his picture, a small unheard voice says…

...and he looked back at her with all the desperation in the world. He wanted something, she didn't know what, and she couldn't force the words out of her mouth to ask. She defied her paralysis and knelt beside him, a first for her, and surveyed the remnants of his neck up close. Then she heard those dreaded words.

"Look...at...me..."

Hermione's eyes instantly welled with tears and an uncontrollable sob threw her head forward and yanked it back again in one motion, and all she wanted was that strong, unbeatable man to get up and walk away.

Tell me heroes exist. Tell me the world isn't like this. Prove to me that you are what I always thought you were. Get up and walk away. Tell me you're alright. Yell at me, scream at me, tell me my teeth are ugly, call me an insufferable know-it-all...please...

Then a hand was on her face, and she looked through her tears to the dark man laying, dying, in front of her, life draining from his face by the moment, "Why the tears, 'Mione?" The voice was his, but the words were his. "It'll all be over soon, try not to worry, love."

"How can't I?" she demanded of the fading life of Severus Snape, "This isn't the way things should be… this isn't what I can...this…please. Get up and walk away. Don't leave me here…"

Her eyes gravitated to the hand that stayed on her face and saw that though it was the Professor's hand, the wrist had been slashed and blood spurted and oozed out of it. She screamed, and the room was suddenly that of the flat in London, with Snape's body propped against the wall, neck and wrists pouring out blood.

"You know how this goes, 'Mione," still the words belonged to him, but the voice was his, and it was garbled with the sound of blood in the back of his throat. She saw it leak out of the corner of his mouth, "You know you'll be okay, don't you? That's the way this works. That's the way this will always work… they all leave..."

She watched as the bodies of Weasley and Snape were thrown on top of each other in her bedroom, and she screamed as they both reached out for her.

They all leave…

"Stop!" she screamed, "Please! NO! Don't leave me here...Please don't leave me!...Pl-"

"Granger!"

She was instantly awake, bolt upright in her bed. Draco Malfoy held her sweaty shoulders tightly, and he was looking down at her with concern. She took in her surroundings for the umpteeth time as she took in an additional, long breath. She was in her bedroom at Hogwarts. She was two, three years away from that night in the Shack, nearly four. Nearly three years away from her flat in London. Her fireplace had burned down to cooling embers, her ungraded papers from the day before lay in a stack on her desk. Her bookshelves were lined with all of her favorite books, academic and nonacademic. She was the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She inhaled deeply again. Her heart rate was lowering now, and she looked back up at Malfoy.

He smiled kindly at her and released her shoulders when he realized she was returning back to her normal self, "Did you start having more dreams only after you set up the wards so I could come save you?" he asked playfully.

Hermione exhaled a subtle chuckle, "Shite, you're onto me."

"Feeling better, then. That's a good start." he lifted himself from the bedside and reached over to the nightstand where an empty glass stood next to her store of potions she would use to help lull herself back to sleep. He whispered a charm of aguamenti into the glass and filled it, handing it to her in the process. She sipped it carefully, realizing, with the coolness of the castle at night, that she had tear tracks down her face. She wiped them away with the back of her wrist in a lame attempt to clean herself up for her present company. She figured she didn't have to, but it made her feel better. She was so terribly sick of crying.

"What was it this time?" Malfoy breathed, waiting patiently for her response. It was the end of April now, and the two had fallen into a supportive pattern regarding her nightmares. He knew she had to process it verbally in order to move on, while she knew that he wanted the camaraderie. He hadn't many friends left after he sided publicly with Voldemort, save for a few colleagues, Hermione, and Miss Hamish. He wanted to belong, and she needed a shoulder for support. Their dynamic worked well.

"It was Snape again, mostly," she admitted, her voice returning to a more normal quality, "Everything was Snape in look, but he started saying things that Weasley would say. He was telling me I'd be alright and not worry, while he died. Weasley came in at the end, while Snape was dying in the flat."

Malfoy inhaled sharply, seeming to hold his breath as he thought, "Have you discussed any of this with Severus?"

Hermione shook her head. She told Malfoy about Snape's portrait and a few of the secrets Snape had revealed to her, except for the time traveling bits which she saved for Snape to tell him. She told him of the threat to the heroes of the war, how Weasley's death was a product of homicide rather than suicide, as they had all originally believed. Malfoy had felt partially responsible, being a Dark supporter at one point. He felt like he had added to a very serious issue, which Hermione agreed to, but had assured him that as long as he was not aiding the new Dark-supportive cause, he had no hand in any of the events that had come of it. He told her he'd help her, if she trusted him enough to do so, to which she took a chance and agreed to accept his help. Now she, Malfoy and Snape's portrait worked together on finding more out about the time turner and creating a plan of action for Hermione to complete when she would go back in time.

"I don't think it would be right to tell him. I know he's a portrait but…" she shrugged half-heartedly, "I mean, he's had it rough enough as it is, hasn't he? He doesn't need another bumbling git to stumble to him asking for his help. He's given enough… even though he's a portrait."

Malfoy shrugged in return, "I can see that. You know it might resolve a little bit of your issue if you did, though? I know it might be hard, but it could give you a sense of closure, potentially."

"Perhaps."

Malfoy grinned wickedly, "What are the odds that he already knows?"

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together. She wouldn't think it was possible, but then again Snape had a way of achieving the hypothetically impossible. She nodded, bobbing her head from side to side, "I wouldn't bet against it."

Malfoy leaned over to the nightstand again and picked out a dreamless sleep, "I don't think you need a calming draught tonight," he handed her the potion, which she downed in one gulp as she settled back into the warmth of her sheets, "Get some sleep, Granger. I'll see you in the morning."

She hummed her affirmation as she pleasantly drifted off to sleep, thoughts of the late Potions Master's intriguing persona guiding her into a peaceful slumber.

~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~

"Finally here, Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor for keeping me waiting."

Hermione had marched into the dungeons a little later than she expected, having had to dodge Peeves in the hall before he could blow her cover. The dungeon classroom had become a second home to her, having spent so much time in it with Malfoy, Snape, and occasionally Dumbledore himself. She waved her wand over the tables and counters near the portrait, where Hermione and Malfoy had left their belongings under an disillusionment charm combined with a vanishing charm to keep their simmering potions and research texts away from their prying Headmistress.

Although Snape had been cordial to her, which was becoming less and less of a rarity, she did not respond in kind. Her day had been long and rough, even though the end of school had already come and gone. Staff were expected to stay behind an extra week up to a month to help prepare their curriculum and the castle for the following school year, as well as to allow for the professors leaving the castle to have time to also pack their personal belongings for their summer hols. The time she usually spent teaching children was now spent with boring paperwork, as well as sending in recommendation letters to the board as to the placement of her students in the years to follow for their Defense Against the Dark Arts education. The majority of her being said that this wasn't necessary, and therefore fought her on doing it since it seemed a wasted effort. She she was going to rewrite history anyways, so why bother? However, she decided not to give in, considering that Snape had mentioned not long ago that there was a chance that the time turner would not work properly when attempting to use it to go back ten years into the past. There were a variety of things that could happen to her if that were the case, and she tried not to focus on any of them, but it had been added to her list of mentally straining things that she had to deal with. She had to prepare for all outcomes.

As was common for her, whenever her stress levels increased, so did the intensity of her nightmares. She'd had nightmares every night for the past week, and she'd run out of Pepper-Up potions to get her through the days, and Malfoy couldn't make more fast enough. By the time she made it to the old Potions classroom, she was mentally and physically drained and overwhelmed. Her eyes had dark circles and bags beneath them, her face was paling again, and she had been developing a throbbing headache since early evening. She grunted a response to Snape and promptly fell into a chair at one of the many worktables, lobbing the satchel she carried over her shoulder on the table in front of her, her limbs heavy and weary from having traveled all the way down into the dungeons.

Snape's joke about taking points from Gryffindor clearly did not have its desired effect. Usually, Granger had much better, and much happier, reactions to little quips of his that reminded her of her schooling- reactions that he secretly had come to enjoy over the last few months. He supposed it reminded her of happier times, since she'd confided to him that his grumbling, sneering professor's-persona had become endearing to her through the passing of time. Though, now, the thought that he had said such a thing made him nearly embarrassed for saying anything out loud… nearly.

"Granger, if you expect me to provide you with care and support I suggest you turn to Malfoy or Potter instead."

Her mouth twitched a bit into the briefest ghosting of a smile, which made his hope for the salvaging of her last night in the castle remerge, even though only slightly. Granger pressed her fingertips to her temples, rubbing them in small circles. She looked horrible, like she did after her nightmares. Even though she'd never truly discussed anything with him on the subject of dreams, he could tell that even Malfoy's help didn't counteract many of her symptoms of post-traumatic stress. He had made an educated guess that Malfoy was helping her, due to the gossip of the other portraits talking about how they had seen Malfoy rush to her rooms in the middle of the night, and how one ballerina had witnessed Granger and Malfoy put up wards on her rooms so Malfoy would know when she needed him. All the portraits who had heard these rumors had assumed that Granger and Malfoy had a fling on the side that they were keeping hidden from the Headmistress, but Snape could tell the truth was quite different. He'd seen Malfoy make an abundance of Pepper-Ups, Calming Draughts, Dreamless Sleeps, and headache-reducing potions in the time where Granger was not with them in the dungeon classroom. He'd also seen the way that the pair would look at each other, much like the way Potter and Granger had when they were in school. It was obvious that the pair were close, close enough to playfully flirt with the other even, but there was no romance between them. That, and he'd managed to catch a glimpse of a picture Malfoy kept in his pocket of a beaming young witch with dark blonde hair, who looked nothing like Granger, holding hands and laughing with the young man. He was clearly smitten with the girl, and Granger had no part in those feelings.

As he catalogued her reaction, she drew her head up to meet his gaze for the briefest of moments before pulling herself up straight, determining her resolve, and run her hands through her hair to smooth the unruly curls. She rubbed her face relentlessly, giving her cheeks a natural pink blush as blood rushed to the surface of her skin, waking herself up. Her determination was to be respected, if nothing else, though Snape also respected her consistent resolve she showed throughout her days in the classroom with him to save those who didn't need to be lost. She wanted to keep them safe, a feeling he knew all too well.

Granger had begun to grow on him, he was loath to admit.

"Have you finished your letter, sir?"

Snape was drawn back from his pensivity to meet her wide, brown eyes once more. She'd had him write a letter to his former self as proof Granger could show past-Snape that she was, indeed, from the future and that she was to be trusted. She'd asked Dumbledore to do the same, and as far as he'd known he completed it, though the old kook had yet to supply it. He lifted the piece of parchment that Granger had magicked into his portrait, now covered in his own spiky scrawl, to show it to her, "Indeed I do. Do you want it now, or before you leave tomorrow?"

"Now would be good, please."

He set the parchment in the podium to his left and hid it from sight as he pulled the curtain over it. Granger chanted the activation charm and promptly pulled out the parchment from the podium across the classroom. Much to his surprise, or perhaps relief, Granger didn't read the letter. Instead she summoned a green envelope from the satchel on the table across the room, folded the parchment and stuffed it inside. She was all business, it seemed, even in the midst of her initial fatigue.

"Have you spoken to Professor Dumbledore about his letter?"

"He assures me it's been completed."

"Excellent. He shan't disappoint, I'm sure."

"Indeed," Snape's voice was cool and calculated, his tone as stern as it had ever been. Apparently his cordiality had ebbed to a stop.

"What should I say to your past self about this letter, sir? Have you thought on it at all?"

He had. He straightened himself, readjusting his flowing robes as he answered, "Say you were given it by myself just before you left. Say that it's proof of your character, and that I instructed you to say so. Make sure I know that you have a similar letter for Professor Dumbledore, as well, and that you will be arriving as a first year come September first. I will not have the roster for my first-year potions classes, only Dumbledore will be privy to that information by that point. It will aid you in gaining my trust of your situation."

"Understood." She was back at her work table, stuffing the envelope into her satchel and pulling out a journal of notes that she'd been accumulating on things she needed to do in the past. He watched her as she scrawled out his instructions, as she did every time he told her something about the mission, even if it was of minor importance. It wasn't unlike her school days, where her notes were organized, articulate, and plentiful. He'd dubbed them to be overkill early in her years, but he kept the similarities he noticed between her notes and his from his own school days to himself. As she sat still, he watched as her handwriting began to slow in pace, from quick and precise to lulled and concentrated. He looked up to see her blinking profusely, fighting to keep her eyes open.

"If you're feeling drowsy, Miss Granger, then perhaps you should rest."

Hermione looked up to her Professor, who's face showed a sneer but his eyes looked almost concerned, "I am in no need of sleep, sir. These last details need to be accounted for."

"Miss Granger, it is of no use to lie to me. I am not a fool."

Hermione cocked her head to the side slightly, her eyebrows twitching into an attempt to knit together, but she stopped herself, keeping her outer countenance cool and gathered, "I have not lied to you, sir. You were the one who told me how important these details..."

"You withhold the truth from me, regardless of details." he cocked an eyebrow pointedly at her, looking just underneath her gaze to the bags under eyes, "You think I would not noticed the way you present yourself on certain days? The way your under-eyes darken and your skin pales? The way you always seem to be in need of a Pepper-Up potion despite your determination to act energetic?"

Hermione felt a wedge of panic slip into her ultimate feeling of having been insulted, "I did not ask to be assessed by your keen eye, Professor."

"I am a spy, it is second nature." he waved her off, "Are you going to tell me the truth now, Granger, or do I have to extract it from you myself?"

She squinted at him, as if to make his motives clear to her by sight alone, "How long have you known?"

There it was. She was beginning to put the pieces together. Such was the mind of a Gryffindor to be so wrapped up in their emotion that they fail to see obvious truths. "Before we commenced meeting down here, I'm afraid." he replied.

Hermione huffed her annoyance, putting one hand mildly on her hip while giving her eyes a slight roll, "Malfoy mentioned to me that you might've known. Did he speak with you?"

"No," Snape replied, "He's been as silent as you." It was the truth.

Hermione began tapping her foot on the stone floor, suddenly aware of the coolness of the dungeon air on her skin, causing gooseflesh to appear on her arms. She brought her cloak up around her shoulders to press it more firmly to her skin, "Luckily for you, sir, it is of no concern to you."

"No concern?" he retorted, "You mean that it is of no concern of mine that you, a girl suffering from the after-effects of a war and the homicide of her partner, are going to go back in time in order to aid Dumbledore and myself in an effort to save the wizarding world from an oncoming war, when you can't even manage to get a proper full night's sleep?"

Hermione felt her blood begin to boil, "With all due respect, sir, if you doubt my abilities perhaps you should enlist the help of a more suitable candidate? I'm sure Malfoy wouldn't mind an opportunity to redeem himself, or perhaps Harry would like to…"

"It must be you, Granger. I've told you this before, and I do not like that I've had to repeat it."

Hermione leveled a glare at him that mimicked his own, her anger letting loose her tongue before she could stop herself, "Then perhaps you should quit whining about the inevitable and learn to embrace it. You can't complain constantly while knowing that something is unavoidable and not look like a complete git."

Snape fumed in his frame, though he could not deny her point. Perhaps becoming a portrait had made his stubbornness flexible, or perhaps looking at the girl with her pale face and a sneer to match his own made him reflect upon himself and his choice in a time-traveling candidate. He felt his face begin to relax in the silence of the moment as Granger looked to him with wide, fiery eyes for an answer. He couldn't explain it, but his opinion of her was changing, and with it, the only thing that was suddenly on his mind was Lily. He was confused for a moment, and was careful not to show his confusion on his features for Granger to observe. Yet he had realized in the silence that perhaps Granger could prove to be his equal, a good match for his personality, just as Lily had once complimented him so well. He would also soon realize that perhaps where her stubbornness was concerned, she would match him in a way Lily did not. For a brief moment, he envied his past self for the turn his life was about to take. But the moment came and went without any knowledge of his thoughts passing to the young woman in front of him.

"Miss Granger," his voice was low, but the venom of his inflexible attitude was missing from his tone. Hermione picked up on it, "Why is it you have nightmares of me?"

Hermione was stunned for a brief moment, her facial features freezing in place while she processed the notion that Severus Snape had just asked her something personal- as if he wanted to know. She looked away from his portrait, reminding herself that this was not, in fact, the same Snape she had known in life but only an echo of his former self (perhaps some details had been lost in the translation of his personality to his portrait? Perhaps whatever force had created him made him more sympathetic than he was in the flesh?), and pondered if she should answer his question or just ignore it.

He bothered to ask you, a small voice in the back of her head mentioned, Perhaps you should give it a chance. Not like you'll be here for much longer.

She took a deep breath and called back the memories of her multiple nightmares, remembering the moments that differed between Snape's actual death and the dreams that had plagued her afterwards. She held her breath in her lungs, her chest puffed outward as she gained the courage to show one of the most insulting men she'd ever known a piece of her most vulnerable past. She prayed that she would not pay for it later in scathing remarks.

"Your death, sir," she began in small voice laced with growing confidence, "It… unsettled me. You became something that night that you never were before. I… couldn't make sense of it, I suppose."

"What ever do you mean?" So it had begun- the very quips she was afraid of. She summoned her Gryffindor courage, reminding herself that she would have to put up with a much less tolerant version of the portrait subject in front of her, and continued.

"You grovelled to Voldemort, sir," she forced the words out of her just as she forced her eyes back up the shrewd gaze of her former professor, "And I am under the impression that you do not grovel."

Snape looked over her, taking in her affirmative stance and determined look, absorbing the way she faced him with resolve and just the slightest hint of fear in her eyes, only detectable due to his years of searching for fine details. Malfoy had asked him in private a few weeks back why he had not asked him or Potter or anyone else to go back- why he had chosen Granger for such an arduous task. His reply had been simple, her wisdom and knowledge was enough to tell her when to be afraid, yet she chose to be brave anyways. Potter knew how to be brave, but he barely understood when to truly be afraid; too gung-ho. Malfoy, as cunning and clever as he was, would run in fear at the slightest notion of a threat. Any other person he'd considered landed somewhere on the spectrum between Potter and Malfoy, but nobody had found a perfect balance like Granger had. She was unique in that sense, much like himself. He knew, as he looked into her determined eyes, that he had chosen the proper candidate to travel back in time. He let Hermione continue.

"I watched you be helpless to a man who had no regard for your life," she stated formally, "I watched you be killed in one of the worst ways I'd seen, even in the midst of a bloody war. You were…" she trailed off, her eyes leaving his and settling on a spot on the stone floor before continuing, "not the person that I had relied on you to be. It unarmed me."

His eyebrows came together at her statement. The person she had relied on him to be? What was that supposed to mean? She lifted her gaze back to his and took in his look of confusion. She saw that he did not understand, or perhaps could not understand, just how firm of a figure he was in her life.

"You were always someone I could count on to act rather than talk," she continued, hoping to clarify her feelings lest he misinterpret her and rake into her, "I held great respect for you in that you were a strong person, one who did not bend for another, even if you had let yourself be ruled by them. You are…" she searched for the right words, "Strong. Courageous, even- though I didn't fully realized that until after your passing. You are the type of person who remains constant in their demeanor. You always treated Gryffindors a certain way, you always taught your classes with clarity, you always understood in intricate detail whatever it was you spoke of, and you were always logical, and you always carried yourself in such a way as to radiate power and control. To see that consistency become crippled in the face of someone I didn't know if we could defeat or not," an involuntary shiver ran up her spine, "I wasn't so sure we could do it. There were already so many dead, but your death had been my breaking point."

Snape didn't know how to react. His stern countenance had faded as she spoke. It was almost as if she had respected him to some degree, even though she believed him to be a Death Eater. Snape was, for the first time in years, shocked.

He inhaled, checking his tone so it was as soft as he could bear it to be, "I… don't exactly know how to respond."

"You don't have to, sir," she tried for a smile as he watched her shove down the raw emotions that the conversation had brought to the forefront of her mind, "I'm glad I get to go back. I… don't want to leave you alone in a time where you need people around you that you can trust. I could see it in your eyes, you know," the look on her face was soft and kind, "I saw that you knew what was going to happen. I saw that you wanted someone to truly be there for you, so you wouldn't have to die alone." she cleared her throat, "I would've been that person, but I thought you were a Death Eater. And I was shocked at the situation…"

"You do not need to babble about it," Snape interrupted, though his tone was not accusing or rude. He was letting her know, in his own brisk way, that he understood, "I know what you mean. I…" he looked around at the borders of his frame, hoping their crafter had inscribed the words he needed to say next on its edges, "I am lucky to have someone such as you to aid me. It is reassuring to know that you… understand something of my life."

Hermione warmed at his words, feeling like she had finally made proud a teacher that had impossibly high standards. Perhaps, she had.

They spent the rest of the evening continuing to prepare, both secretly happy that they had, somehow, gained the trust of the other.

~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~

"Tell me the plan, once more now."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Malfoy quizzed her for the umpteeth time that week, stuffing the red envelope that sealed Professor Dumbledore's letter to himself inside her beaded bag with her undetectable extension charm. She, Malfoy, Snape, and Dumbledore were all in the dungeon classroom that night. It was dark out, and the school was still. Even though the anxiety she was dealing with made her impatient with Malfoy's constant hovering concerning her preparedness and her well-being, she was grateful for it. One could never be too prepared, especially when she was about to skip backwards in time by twelve years into a world that wouldn't know her. Besides, it showed her that Malfoy cared, and the thought gave her the ambition to succeed.

Dumbledore and Snape watched from the portrait while Hermione huffed and began to recite, as if by heart, "I'm spinning the time turner ten times to go back in time by ten years. Because the positioning of the day and time, Snape's calculations claim that I will be sent back in time to the night of August fifth in 1991, to Harry's first year. I'll be in Snape's quarters at the time. My first action will be to down the potion you'll give me to stabilize my magic and my molecules, so my existence isn't stretched over the time-space continuum. Then I will confront Snape and give him the letter that he wrote for himself, then ask to see Professor Dumbledore, who I will give the second letter to." Hermione rummaged through her beaded bag as she spoke, finding the invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map she'd borrowed from Harry, as well as her research texts, books for reading in her spare time, her clothes and her toiletries. He made room deep in the back of her bag for the potions and magical items Malfoy would be giving her in a few minutes, once she finished her checklist of things to do for the final time.

"Then," she continued, "I'll be given my own room, where I'll unpack and prepare for the road ahead, then ward my door so no one can enter without my password, just like the Headmaster's office. I will be enlisted into the Order and provide aid when necessary to stop the rise of Voldemort. I will also be Horcrux hunting while school is not in session in order to get a head start on Voldemort while acting as an additional bodyguard for Harry," she set her beaded bag on the table and picked up the time turner. It looked just like her old time turner, two gold rings on a gold chain with a small hourglass in the middle with a special potion of Snape's own discovery in the hourglass instead of the usual sand. She looped it around her head, holding it carefully with one hand so it wouldn't spin on its own and send her to the wrong time, "I will also be aiding Professor Snape while he works as a double agent for the Order, in order to best maintain his cover. As we've mentioned, my goal, aside from assisting his spy-regimen, I will also be acting on making his life more comfortable by helping with school assignments and student care, as well as making sure he is fit so Madam Pomfrey will not know about his being a secret agent." Snape had told them that he had been responsible for treating his own wounds during the process of Voldemort's reincarnation, which had made Hermione's heart ache. She had insisted that she help the Professor with issues pertaining to his health, to which portrait-Snape had reluctantly agreed to, though she did have more plans than that in store for her time in the past.

"My main goal will be to preserve Harry's life, kill all the Horcruxes, and work for the Order as a secret agent." she finished at long last.

Malfoy nodded his affirmation of her being correct, yet again, on the chain of events that she would stick to, "Now here's your potions," he said, motioning to the counter and showing the multiple phials that he had filled with various potions, three bottles per potion save for one slightly larger phial with black liquid inside and an opaque vial no longer than her pinky. First, he handed her the three phials filled with pink liquid, labeled in his handwriting with the words Careful Dosage, "This is the time-stabilizing potion. Drink the one whole phial the second you stabilize in time, then half a phial each day for four more days to ensure your stability in the time-space continuum."

Second were the phials with a deep green liquid, "Polyjuice." he announced, handing her the potions as she reached out for them, putting them into their designated spot in her bag.

"Calming Draughts… Dreamless Sleep… Headache Reliever… Blood Replenisher… Essence of Dittany… Draught of the Living Death… Pepper Up potion…" Malfoy listed off each potion in rhythm to Hermione's packing. Some of the potions were temporary stores, but Hermione had packed her Appendix of Potion Recipes that she'd made for herself, with Snape's help, so that she'd easily be able to replenish her stores as needed.

"Finally," Malfoy held up the two final bottles up in each hand, "These two are very important, so be careful with them," he held up the slightly larger bottle of black liquid labeled with an HP in Malfoy's elegant script, "This is the Horcrux potion for Potter. He's going to have to drink the whole thing and be under medical supervision for three days. The process of removing the Horcrux should be rather quick, but the pain during and after the removal will be… extreme." Hermione took the phial and set it in her bag with the the invisibility cloak to ensure it wouldn't get smashed in the process of time travel. Snape had told them he had invented such a potion when Dumbledore had first told him that Harry was a Horcrux, under the idea that if he could give it to Harry before he died at Voldemort's hand, he could be guaranteed to live. However, by the time the potion had been invented and properly developed, Harry was long gone from Hogwarts and was on the run, while Snape was under the constant supervision of Voldemort while he ran Hogwarts- he never got a proper chance to give the potion to Harry. Now was the time that his brilliant potion could finally go to good use. Hermione was determined that his effort would not go to waste.

Last, Malfoy held up the small opaque bottle and set it gently in Hermione's hand. Upon closer inspection, Hermione saw that the opaque quality of the phial was not the phial at all, but in fact the potion which was an opaque, churning gold. Malfoy tapped the phial with his index finger, "I went ahead and made Felix Felicis for you as well," he recited, a small smile of pride beginning to grow on his mischievous looking face, "For emergencies."

Hermione looked up into the gray eyes of her friend and smiled brilliantly before tucking the Felix Felicis into her bag carefully, "Thank you, Malfoy. I promise I won't waste it."

"I know you won't," Malfoy informed her, "Conservative little swot that you are."

"You arse," Hermione giggled, clipping her beaded bag shut with a quick snap. She turned to the portrait to face the two former Headmasters with a beaming smile, though the moment itself was melancholy. Dumbledore smiled at her with an infectious grin punctuated by the typical twinkling of his impish blue eyes behind their half-moon spectacles. Snape, on the other hand, looked nearly indifferent to the whole affair. He leaned nonchalantly onto the podium in the frame, looking as bored as he ever could be, but he wouldn't meet Hermione's eyes.

"Good luck, my girl," Dumbledore told her, nodding towards her respectfully, "You will do a splendid job, I am certain. You have done so well. It has been my honor to know you, and it will be again." his grin widened.

"I will do my best, sir," Hermione chimed proudly, her body alive with giddiness at the Headmaster's obvious pride. She looked at Snape then, hoping for some kind of reassurance from him. As cordial as he had become comfortable being through the last few months, any good nature towards her seemed to had vanished, only to be replaced by his typical scowl that she used to find him wearing, similar to the night they had first met, face to canvas, in the dungeon classroom.

He looked up at her briefly before casting his eyes towards Dumbledore in an accusatory stare. Dumbledore saw it, grinned, and briefly left the frame, the edge of his robes still visible from the edge of the frame. Hermione neared the portrait, hopeful that Snape would see this as a chance to say goodbye. Just as she had hoped, he did.

"I'm afraid, Miss Granger," his low voice was reminiscent of her time spent in his classroom as a student, "That you may just have the makings of someone who will become… close to me." he seemed to wince as the words left his mouth, and Hermione's mouth stretched even further as her smile grew.

"I certainly hope so, sir." she whispered in return, causing his eyes to quirk back to hers and shimmer with an almost hopeful sparkle.

"You were always a smart student, you know," he admitted, deciding it was best to lay all his cards on the table while he still had a chance, "I can only hope you will remain as bright in the past as you are in the present."

"I'll do my best."

He nodded knowingly, "I know you will," he murmured. His stern countenance had yet to shift, but his voice had become soft, softer than Hermione had ever heard it before. "I… must express my gratitude to you for taking on this project. I know it is not exactly optimal, but I knew you would be the one to handle so big a job as this."

Hermione's chest swelled from the inside with pride, but tried not to let it show, lest she be reprimanded, "Th-thank you, sir."

"I only hope that you will… learn to trust me in turn."

She saw a look of fear in his eyes, something that would've gone undetected had she not had a keen eye for detail herself, and her heart melted for the man, "You want to know a secret, sir?" she whispered in an even hushed tone than before, as she leaned towards the portrait, covering her mouth so Malfoy would not see her lips move, "I already do."

At this, Snape's mouth twitched at its edges in what Hermione assumed would've grown into a smile had he let it, but he was far too protective of himself to allow it. She added quickly, "And I am only too honored to able to assist you, sir, both now and then." She watched as Snape lifted his head by a fraction as she stepped away from the frame, queuing Dumbledore to return to the portrait. "I'll see you both soon!" she called as she joined Malfoy near the door of the classroom, feeling the dungeon's brisk air bite her arms as she joined him.

"Farewell, Miss Granger," Dumbledore called, waving.

Snape inclined his head in the first sign of respect that Hermione had ever received from him, "Good luck… Hermione."

Hermione's eyes shimmered as she met the dense eyes of her Potions Professor, who gave her a small, unknowing smirk. Unbeknownst to her, he saw her face beam with light and pride at his call to her, and he drank it in for one last time.

"Thank you, Severus." she said without thought. She turned around as Malfoy opened the dungeon door for her and stepped out into the hallway, the last look on her Professor's face burned into her memory in the sweetest branding she could ever bear, leaving the two Headmasters in the classroom as she and Malfoy traveled to Professor Snape's old rooms.

They walked in silence for a number of paces, both of them unsure of what to say to their newfound friend. "I think you'll be brilliant, Granger," Malfoy eventually informed her with a smile as the cool air gave them both gooseflesh on their trek to their destination, "You and Severus seem to have a good dynamic. You'll help him a lot, if he lets you."

Hermione gripped the time turner, feeling the potion slosh around in the hourglass with every step she took, "I hope he does," she sighed, melancholy filling her as she remembered she had just left the Snape who already knew her only to go join a much younger, more untrustworthy Snape who would most likely berate her, on his good days, for the foreseeable future.

"Gra-...Hermione," Malfoy said, a slight waver to his voice as they approached the door to Professor Snape's room at the end of the corridor, she flashed a smile to the floor, realizing that two very untrusting men had just called her by her first name tonight, signifying their relationship to her. He turned to her as he set his hand on the door handle, "I want to thank you. For giving me a chance to be your friend, and for trusting me," he scratched the back of his platinum blonde hair, clearly uncomfortable, but also making a physical effort to inform Hermione of his thoughts, and she loved the blonde git for it.

"You didn't have to trust me or even try to talk to me, especially after all that happened in school and the war, but you did anyway. And I'll…" he choked on his words, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. His face began to go blotchy and his voice quivered as he finished, "I'll always be grateful for that, Hermione. I hope that, no matter what happens, you turn out the better for this. And I hope that no matter the outcome, that I'll see you as a good person."

Hermione's eyes began to well with tears at her friend's emotional response. She held out her arms and wrapped them around her friend, holding him close as he clutched her to him, "I'll never forget you, Draco," she said over his shoulder, losing his last name in favor of his first, just as she had done for Severus, "You are such a good friend, and I'm so glad to have gotten a proper chance to know you again." She pulled away from him and patted one of his shoulders affectionately, "I'll miss you."

He sniffled, clearly trying and failing to hold back tears as they sprung from his lashes to his sharp cheekbones, "I'll miss you, too, you wanker."

Hermione smiled as Draco opened the door to the musty chambers using a disarming spell that Snape had told them to use. Draco waved his wand and the lights turned on. The whole place was covered in dust, but left nearly untouched since the Potions Master had lived there. They had walked into the sitting room, furnished with a couch and two armchairs, the same kind that had been painted into Snape's portrait in the Headmistress's office, in front of a cold and blackened fireplace, above it was a clock that had stopped working. On either side of the hearth were two bookcases, situated side by side, and filled with a plethora of books. There was a coat rack attached to the wall opposite the fireplace, which was hung near a table that had random trinkets and papers. Some were littered on the floor, which Hermione attributed to thieves rummaging through a dead man's belongings. There was a hall past the bookcases furthest from the door, which Hermione saw had three doors. They were all open, allowing Hermione to give a slight peek into a bathroom and a study, making the last room she couldn't see into, at the back of the hall, the master bedroom. She could smell, underneath the grime and mothballs of the years passed, a distant smell that reminded her of him and triggered old memories of her Potions classes. It was the scent of old paper and black tea, she decided after a split-second debate with herself. She was lucky she liked the combination, as she was going to have to get used to it very soon.

"You know," Draco said, having composed himself as they stopped in the middle of the sitting room, "I don't think you were telling the truth to Snape, earlier."

Hermione grinned mischievously, "You don't say?"

"What's your plan, really, Hermione?"

Hermione looked at her surroundings more, in the dim light it looked like something worthy of a horror movie, "Not much different from the original plan, really."

"No?"

She nodded, grinning at Draco like she'd won a prize, "The only thing I plan on doing that's different is having a different living situation."

Draco paled, if it was possible for him to pale more than he already was, "Oh, God, Hermione. You can't be serious."

She nodded vigorously, "Oh, yes I can. Besides, it's more cost-effective."

"Here?" he demanded in disbelief, "You expect me to believe you'll be living here?"

She nodded.

"With Snape? My old cuck of a godfather, Severus Snape."

She nodded again, her mouth becoming sore from smiling so much.

"Won't Dumbledore have to approve of it?"

"Won't he want his most importance spy safe and taken care of?" Hermione raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Draco shook his head is disbelief, his eyes wide, "Merlin, Hermione, I wasn't aware you had a death wish."

"Oh, he won't do anything," Hermione waved off the comment like a fly, "He'll know my purpose and won't mess with it, you know that… He might hex me, but-"

Draco threw his hands into the air, "I can't believe you. You Gryffindors always bite off more than you can chew." he sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides, "I just hope you know what you're doing."

She nodded, "I have confidence. But the only way to find out is through in-practice study." She lifted the time turned up from her neck to look at it. Draco looked back at her, a small smile playing on his lips, partly happy for the adventure his friend was to embark on, and partly in mourning for losing her in the process.

"Stay safe, Granger."

She nodded, "See you on the first, Malfoy."

And with that, Hermione spun the time turner carefully ten times, and her surroundings blurred around her as she was violently shot backwards ten years worth of time.

~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~

August 5th, 1991

The world stopped spinning after what felt like a ten minute roller coaster, and Hermione lurched forward, grabbing hold of the back of armchair to steady herself. Her vision was tilted and swirling, her ears were ringing horribly, and all of her limbs felt as if they had fallen asleep. She looked around at her surroundings, and to her pleasure, they were different. The dust and grime was gone, the papers on the table in the back were stacked neatly and a two black cloaks hung on the coat rack opposite her. The lights were on and warmed the room in a homey and inviting way, and a fire crackled and popped in the fireplace behind her. The scent of his rooms was more pure and no longer masked by the smell of the grunge that had accumulated there. Instead, she smelled nothing but that old paper and black tea, as well as ink and even the fresh scent of some kind of soap. The couch and armchairs were not musty and full of holes. Instead they looked plush and well taken care of, comfy enough for her to plop down and fall asleep on. However, she knew that sleep was a ways off. She turned around and looked at the clock, which was ticking, and saw the time was 10:46. She'd made it.

She rummaged through her bag, remembering Malfoy's strict instructions, and pulled out one of the phials of pink potion that would stabilize her physical form in time. She downed the potion which, much to her disgust, tasted like three-years-expired pumpkin juice, and instantly began to regain feeling in her limbs while the ringing in her ears began to ebb away. That was when she heard the running of water in a shower coming from down the hall, and her whole body went tense.

Professor Snape was taking a shower.

Fuck.

Her mind began to race. She knew how some men were after showering, especially if they were alone. Weasley used to simply walk out of the bathroom in the raw, completely uncaring as to whether Hermione would see him or not. She didn't think Snape could be similar… she prayed that he wasn't. Hermione wasn't entirely sure what to do. She didn't know if anyone or anything (Peeves was the first to come to mind) was out in the hallway, she couldn't bloody well stay in the living room and wait for him to find her in whatever state he was in. Would she hide in the study? No, it would scare him. The bedroom? Oh Merlin have mercy, no. She couldn't live with the embarrassment if she went that far.

Her blood ran cold as she heard a faint squeak followed by the silence that followed the water being shut off.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…

She looked around the room looking for a place to hide when she remembered she had Harry's invisibility cloak. She could've slapped herself for not thinking of it sooner. She ripped open the clasp of her beaded bag and began to rummage through the many things she had packed. In her time and panic-addled mind, she couldn't find the cloak. First she pulled out an old jumper, then a shirt, then a blanket. Ah, yes! There it is!

She nearly had a stroke as she went to throw it over herself in her panic, but stopped mid-motion, dread filling her suddenly frozen limbs.

She was too late.

There in the front of the hallway, clad in nothing but a small towel that barely covered the bottom half of his torso, stood a very tall, very menacing, and very angry Severus Snape.

~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~

A/N: hehehehe *taps fingertips together mischievously* xD I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I had an especially good time writing that last bit… Thanks to all of you who have favorited, followed and reviewed! I've been reading every review and am THRILLED TO BITS that you all are liking it so far! We've now come to the point where the real story begins. For those of you concerned about the intricacies involving time travel and all of that, have no fear! The next chapter will explain all the lovely little details surrounding Hermione's true plan as well as how she got to 8/5/1991 in the first place. I'll be back soon with chapter four, where we finally get to meet the Severus of the rest of the story! Leave a review and tell me what you guys think!

Happy reading, y'all!

-Cherry