Chapter Four

With Anger and Honesty...

Hermione's felt her face flush as she realized exactly what kind of a situation she was in. After a brief moment of initial shock passed between them both, they simultaneously launched into action. Hermione dropped her wand and the cloak onto the floor, raising her hands high above her head to show she was unarmed. Snape, on the other hand, let go of his towel with one of his hands and shot out the opposite appendage towards the bedroom, where his black wand came soaring towards him. Instantly, the wand was in her Professor's hand, and was being pointed directly at her, at which point her eyes were kept trained on the tip of his wand until he spoke.

His face wore the most aggressive sneer she'd ever seen on him, and when he spoke his voice was low, dangerous, and dripping with absolute revulsion and hatred, "And just who in bleeding Merlin's hell are you?"

Hermione cleared her throat, her body still gaining feeling from her jump back in time, and replied with a husky voice, as though she was in the process of losing it, "My name is Hermione Granger, sir. I'm not a threat." she winced as those last words escaped her mouth, though in hindsight she couldn't blame herself- Snape looked positively murderous.

"How did you get in here?" he demanded, his voice was cold and unforgiving. She wasn't entirely sure he wasn't going to hex her just for being there. She hated to think what he'd do if she were noncompliant.

"I came here via time turner, sir," she looked down at the time turner around her neck and back up at her Professor, who she was now beginning to get a good look at. He was pale all over, to such an extreme that he nearly looked gray. His form was sinewy, but not unfit, with lean yet developed muscles stretching over the bones in his arms and legs. She could see marks and scars lacing around the majority of his frame, as well as sparse hairs smattered across his ever-slightly defined chest. He seemed to be a good balance between elegantly lean and strongly built. His shoulders were broad, his stomach flat and textured also with a small trail of hair…

Her eyes snapped up to his again, her face blanching at realizing what she was just thinking. Sure, it had been a long time- not since Weasley, in fact- but she hadn't dubbed herself to be that desperate. Instead of focusing on her inappropriate thoughts, or the slightly raised eyebrow that had risen on her Professor's face, which made him look a cross between fuming mad and slightly curious, she decided to continue her sentence for further explanation, "I came from the future to…" she swallowed, images of her lost partner and the very man in front of her bleeding to death on the floor of the Shrieking Shack had suddenly occupied the front of her mind, "...Save those who don't need to be lost, sir."

"Speak plainly, witch," Snape's voice was still dangerously low as took a step forward, gripping his towel around his waist with a fiercely balled fist as he twisted his wand in its place while his sneer grew to bend his face into a nearly inhuman snarl, "I will not ask again."

Hermione straightened both her spine and her resolve as she responded, "Voldemort will soon be on the rise again, sir. I've been sent back to aid in the anti-war effort."

His eyes flashed with something akin to shock, but his eyebrows made him look like he'd finally found some lost piece of evidence that he could use to lock her away in Azkaban, "You lie!" he shouted.

"No, sir, I promise I'm not!" she raised her hands up higher, as if that could possibly defend her, panic beginning to reign supreme in her mind as he became more and more stubborn against her, "There's a note in my bag! In a green envelope, it's a note that you wrote for yourself to read, sir. You knew you'd doubt me, so I had you write proof that I wasn't lying. Please…"

She was close to cowering as he bored into her, weighing whether or not she could be telling the truth before flicking his wand with a barely audible, "Accio." Her bag snapped open and the green envelope soared from her bag and into his waiting hand. In order to open it, he had to lower his wand, which gave Hermione her first glimpse of the Dark Mark imprinted into the inner forearm of his right arm. It was only a brief glimpse, Hermione remembered how portrait-Severus never showed or mentioned the Mark on his arm out of what she deemed to be self-hate or guilt. He didn't like to show weakness, and he seemed to view his Mark as one. What she did see, though, before he pulled his arm into his abdomen, was a portion of the snake that looped around the skull near the bend in his elbow. He opened the envelope with the flick of his fingers- Hermione saw exactly how dexterous his hands were from years of dueling and potion making, to hold a wand, catch an envelope and open it all with his right hand alone- and pulled out the letter from inside with his teeth. He was still gripping his towel with one hand, which she knew he could not be enjoying, while his other hand reached to grab the letter from his white but crooked teeth, looking over it as he brought the parchment down from his face. His eyes flicked back up to her, where she looked upwards to her hands and back to him, nonverbally cueing him that she was not about to move. Then he began to read.

Hermione had decided to not read portrait-Severus's letter when the parchment had reappeared in the podium. She saw it as a breach of privacy in one way, and an utterly dumb move in another. For one, Severus was a very private man. He didn't let anyone into his mind or life without a rigorous background check that likely never ebbed to a stop, so why would he ever have reason to trust Hermione, whom he had barely started to like in his portrait form, if she didn't respect his privacy? Second, if the Snape who stood before her now were to have used Legilimency on her after having read his letter and saw its contents in her mind, he would have reason to assume it to be fake or been given by force. Snape was clearly a very cautious man- cautious bordering on paranoia. If he caught one glimpse of the contents of that letter in her mind, she could give up on her mission to help him now. However, none of these thoughts trumped the utter curiosity she felt at watching his face react to the words he read.

At first he looked at the parchment with scrunched eyebrows and a critical glare. Then the further he read into the letter, the more relaxed his body became, but his eyes told a different story. He was controlling some raging emotion, she could tell by the way his face went slack but his features froze in place right after relaxing. She'd seen that very reaction several times on the very man in front of her as well as his own portrait. She'd tried to explain it to Malfoy before, when he had told her he never saw the details in his godfather's reactions to things, and described it as the churning of his agitated and anguished soul just beneath the surface of his skin, rolling around in the cage of flesh it was contained to. She had considered it one of her more poetic moments, though now she was reminded of how true her words had been.

But then something shifted his entire demeanor as he shifted his thumb from the middle of the letter to make way for his wandering, trained eye. His gaze seemed to clear of that coiling emotion behind them as his gaze wandered from one side of the page to the other. Briefly, though only for one barely detectable moment, Snape's eyes wandered upward to hers, assessing her gaze like she was another part of the note before him, before flipping the parchment over and finishing the letter. At long last, though Hermione could have watched his controlled reactions for the remainder of the night, he let his arm fall to his side with the letter still in his grasp.

"What did you say your name was?"

"Granger, sir. Hermione Granger."

"You were a Professor here? Gryffindor?" he gestured to the small lion that hung on a chain around her neck.

"Yes, sir."

"Potions?"

"No, sir. Defence Against the Dark Arts." he was testing her, but he was being too easy.

"What year are you now?"

"At this moment in time, sir, I will be a first year starting on the first of September."

"Who will you walk in with you when you enter the Great Hall?"

She thought for a moment, "I will be walking behind Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley," she felt the name roll off her tongue but it didn't stop her stomach from falling to the ground and leaving a pit in her abdomen. "I won't be walking with anyone in particular… I believe it was Susan Bones or someone that I was talking to about Hogwarts, A History… I won't have many friends until Halloween night."

"And what happens Halloween night?"

"A troll enters the second floor girl's bathroom, sir. Though Professor Quirrell will announce practically to the whole school that it was seen in the dungeons. He will be lying. I will have been in the girl's bathroom by myself when the troll gets me stuck inside. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley will hear me and attempt to save me. You, along with Professor Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall will finally find us all with Harry and Weasley having taken care of the troll."

Snape's eyebrow raised with every word that left her mouth, making it stop practically on the border of his hairline by the time she was finished. He regarded her with silence, looking her up and down one final time before saying in a drawl, "Indeed." Hermione waited for more questioning.

"You become friends with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley." he stated, as if wanting clarification.

"Yes, sir."

"Hmph. To be expected of a bloody Gryffindor, I suppose. Befriending random individuals merely because they saved you from some threat, whether truly dangerous or no."

Hermione closed her eyes, rolling them under their lids, before opening them again to her crotchety professor. It didn't escape her notice, however, that his last statement showed, only in the slightest, that he was believing her so far. She inwardly sighed in relief.

"What class will I be teaching you?" he questioned further.

"Beginning Potions. I will be in the Gryffindor-Slytherin class on Fridays." She adjusted her arms in their sockets, they were beginning to ache from being lifted for so long.

Snape regarded her with an attitude to rival a fourteen year old girl. He did everything but place a hand on a cocked hip. "You will wait here until I've dressed. Then we find the Headmaster."

"Excellent, sir. I have a letter for…"

"I know," he spat, cutting her off bitterly, "Sit, and be silent, Miss Granger." He motioned to the couch that stood directly behind her before waving his wand, placing a set of temporary wards around her, cleverly separating her from her wand. She could see the line, like the age line Dumbledore had placed around the Triwizard Cup in her fourth year, glow slightly for a moment in the air before settling into the ground below it, absorbed by the carpet. She sat down on the comfortable sofa, pulling her robes against the backs of her legs to keep the atmosphere formal. She watched as he stomped from the room, towel still covering what little it could. He looked like his already-stressful night had been made worse by her appearing in his sitting room, which she would bet was the actual case anyways, though she did manage to notice how that stress didn't seem to show on his countenance. He carried himself strongly, with such confidence and control that she could feel it coming off in waves so overwhelming, so much so that she felt a similar fear of him that she did when she was in school, but the rush was different. First of all, she was old enough to view him more as a peer rather than a superior, which already made things odd. Second, however, was the growing realization that she was meeting a man who, on one hand, she had witnessed die in the Shack seven years into the future, and on the other hand, had never met her a day before in his life. There would be no memories for him of calling her an insufferable know it all, nor would he remember remarking savagely about the shape of her teeth, or even just snapping at her in class for helping Neville. He had no idea who she was, really. He had, in his own time, literally just met her. The notion boggled Hermione's mind slightly, but no more than she had prepared for since before she'd left her own time. She heard footsteps in the bedroom and saw Professor Snape march out of the doorway and back into the sitting room, now fully clothed in what she recognized to be his regular teaching robes. He'd dried his hair with a drying charm but it was rushed, as the ends of his hair were still bunched together with moisture and his hair looked frazzled. The scowl that had been on his face since she first saw him was still etched into his features as he bent down and scooped up her wand and cloak, stowing them away in an inner pocket of his robes while he removed the wards he'd placed around her with the flick of his wand. Roughly, he grabbed her upper arm and tore her away from the couch.

"If you've been here before, lead can us to the Headmaster yourself." he demanded, shoving her in front of him. She glared at him for his roughness before straightening herself and her robes and marching out of Snape's chambers.

She led them practically by muscle memory from the dungeons to the Headmaster's office. She even caught a glimpse of the classroom Snape would soon be teaching her and her fellow Potions-classmates in. The light was off, but she could tell just from the state of the door that the room was in use, and the thought of it no longer being the desolate dungeon she, Malfoy, Severus, and Albus had been working in made her heart feel light. She could tell Snape was watching her carefully and scrutinizingly from the moment she stepped in front of him, but she didn't waver. She knew she could trust him, in the long run, and the similar notions of his being more of a peer than a teacher considering their shrunken age gap made her trust and her comfort level increase with the brooding man stalking behind her.

Many staircases and hallways later, she found herself in front the gargoyles that would lead up into the Headmaster's office. She turned to look at Snape, who looked as equally pleased as he did displeased as he stopped behind her.

"According to Harry, the password was 'lemondrops', but I'm not sure if that comes into effect later in the year or not."

Snape peered at her through the corner of his eye while he neared the gargoyles and stated, "Lemondrops." And the staircase revolved to meet them. Hermione's mouth twitched into a grin as Snape motioned for her to enter the staircase first.

"You've met the Headmaster before?" Snape presumed as he followed her up the stair.

"Yes. I worked with the Order starting after my fourth year. And I managed to find trouble every year of my schooling which Dumbledore couldn't help but notice was centered around a pattern."

"Indeed."

"I can explain more in Dumbledore's office, sir," Hermione supplied, stopping in front of the door to the Headmaster's office, waiting for Snape to knock. "I don't think you'll appreciate me repeating myself."

He regarded her with a brief, but tempered, snarl, which she supposed meant that she was right, as he moved next to her to knock on the oak door. They waited in silence as she heard shuffling on the other side of the door, followed by the opening of another door inside and the sound of footsteps towards the door in front of them.

Dumbledore opened the door to the pair of them, and his blue eyes visibly showed shock at the sight of Snape standing behind a beaming young woman he had never seen.

"Good evening," Dumbledore said to her with a smile. He looked to Snape, "Severus…?"

"We have a situation, Headmaster," Snape drawled as he pushed past Hermione to get inside the office. Dumbledore let him come in, then stood out of the way to allow Hermione to enter the office. She entered quietly with small nod to the Headmaster and went to stand in front of the desk on the opposite side of the room.

Dumbledore shut the door behind him and strode over to the desk. He was wearing a set of purple night robes which dragged along the floor as he approached his desk, as well as his typical pair of half-moon spectacles that were perched on the end of his nose.

"Well, as I already know who Severus is, and apparently so do you," he motioned politely to Hermione as he sat down in the Headmaster's chair, still smiling widely, "Perhaps introductions are in order?"

"My name is Hermione Granger, Headmaster," she stated plainly, opening up her small beaded bag and plunging her arm into it until it was buried up to her upper arm and pulling out the red, thick envelope that the portrait of Dumbledore had sent her with, "I have a letter for you, from yourself."

"Ah!" Dumbledore practically danced in his seat as he reached out for the letter, "Time traveler, then? Been a moment since I've dealt with a good time traveling case."

"Your future self told me to tell you that this would explain my situation," she added as she sat down in one of the chairs in the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore tore open the envelope as she realized she was sitting in her typical chair that she'd occupy in meetings with Minerva, and that Severus was going to sit in the other chair, where Malfoy usually would sit. She closed her bag as Dumbledore's eyes roved over his letter. Unlike Snape's letter, which had been one one foot-long piece of parchment with his cramped script on both sides, Dumbledore's was two pieces of two-foot long parchment pieces written only on one side. He knew he had wanted to make as much as possible obvious to his former self to better prove Hermione truthful in her story of being a time traveler.

As the Headmaster read, Hermione fingered the time turner carefully, looking down at the magical object. It was the usual gold but with a potion in the hourglass instead of sand. She wondered how Snape had managed to create a potion that would work inside a time turner to replace the time travel sequence from hours to years. As she studied the potion inside its small glass container, she became aware of a dark pair of eyes that had become fixed on her and the time turner. She looked back over to him, briefly meeting his scrutinizing gaze, as if to say I'll explain later, and turned her eyes back to the time turner and the potion that sloshed around inside it. A few moments later, Dumbledore cleared his throat and both Hermione and Snape looked back up to him.

"Ten years into the future, then, Miss Granger," he smiled as he pulled open a drawer in his desk and brought out a long scroll, which he unravelled down to the ground. He looked over the top of the scroll at Hermione, who was waiting patiently, "You don't mind if I fact check some things, Miss?"

Hermione shook her head, a smile on her lips. She watched as the Headmaster ran a finger down the list until it settled on something fairly close to the top. "Severus," Dumbledore looked over to his Potions Master, "Did Miss Granger or your own letter mention her classes that she will be taking."

"Beginning Potions with Professor Snape," Hermione responded before Snape could, "Beginning Defense with Professor Quirrell, Beginning Charms with Professor Flitwick, Flying Lessons with Madam Hooch, Beginning Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall," Hermione shrugged, "Shall I continue?"

Dumbledore was nodding while scanning over the scroll as Hermione spoke, and after her question instructed, "No, Miss Granger. I've seen proof enough." he rolled up the scroll and put it away, "So, Miss Granger," he laced his fingers and put his folded hands on the desk, "Was my portrait much like myself now?"

Hermione smiled again, "He was much like yourself, sir," she replied, looking between Professors Snape and Dumbledore as she continued, "Both of your portraits were very much like you both, it seemed to me. Though, you were obviously restricted in your actions because of the nature of your portrait belonging to the Headmistress and the simple fact that you were both portraits…" she trailed off under the increasingly heated stare of Professor Snape and folded her arms over her chest and finishing her thought with enough confidence to at least make her sound unfased, "You both made suitable enough companions."

Snape scoffed at her remark, sitting back in his chair, but Dumbledore merely nodded, "So it would seem." Dumbledore stood up and walked to one of the bookcases behind him, peering at the various knick knacks that accompanied the books on the shelves, "Miss Granger, would you mind humoring a much less knowledgeable old man by telling me a bit about the rules of your traveling back here? I am aware of the rules of time travel, the way it can be seen as common to us, however, simply by being here and speaking to us, while admitting you are a time traveler from years into the future, you are breaking those very rules. Given the fact that I've obviously condoned such behavior makes me wonder what your rules are… if you don't mind."

Hermione straightened a little more as she responded, "Actually, sir, it was Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape who established the rules of yearly time travel. Due to the excess of time, time enough to make mistakes or become known, one can travel back in time, but only under the establishment that the future ought to be changed."

"Hmm," Dumbledore brought a finger to his lips, tapping them gently, "Go on."

"I have come here to deliberately change the future, which is only possible when one travels years rather than days, or even months back into the past. That said, I still cannot let my identity be known by many people, especially not myself from this timeline. Only the people capable of holding a secret of this weight and who can keep it from this timeline's version of me can know, thus why the two of you are in on this."

"And why choose us?" Snape asked, his low voice now more curious than vengeful, "Why choose anyone?"

"I thought I made that clear to you, sir," Hermione replied kindly. "I'm here to save lives." She turned back to Dumbledore, who was listening intently, all charismatic charm replaced by seriousness, "Voldemort begins his return this year, as I'm sure you know…"

"How are you sure?" Dumbledore suddenly asked.

"You sent Hagrid to find Harry and take him to Diagon Alley on Harry's birthday, the thirty-first of July," Hermione responded quickly, "There, Hagrid withdrew a package that contained the Philosopher's Stone from a Gringotts Vault, by your orders, and brought it here to be guarded by Fluffy and array of other puzzles created by the Professors of Hogwarts. That was five days ago." The murderous look was back on Snape's face, and she knew that his trust in her was already fading from the amount of information she knew, "Harry, Weasley and I break into the third floor corridor that was locked off at the end of the school year in an attempt to take the Stone before Voldemort and his servant can."

"His servant?" Dumbledore was very concerned now.

"Quirrell," Hermione replied back, "Professor Quirrell encountered Voldemort on his travels and was seduced into becoming a Death Eater. He will give his body to Voldemort and the pair of them fight Harry in the final room as one ."

"I told you, Albus!" Snape was suddenly on his feet, glaring daggers at the Headmaster, who merely blinked up at him in response, "I told you he reeked of lies! That ridiculous stutter! And that turban-"

"Enough, Severus," Dumbledore lifted a hand up to silence Snape before turning a soft gaze back to Hermione, "You risk much in telling us this, Miss Granger."

"I know, sir," Hermione agreed, "But it's the truth."

"Do you think it best to act now?"

Hermione stared at the Headmaster, incredulous, then looked down as she pondered her many thoughts on the issue. Finally she looked back up, knowing what should be done, "Not yet, sir." she told him, "Voldemort doesn't appear in Quirrell's body until later in the school year, and even then Harry is still able to defeat him. I think for the sanctity of my mission to end the war as a whole, we should let this year play out as it normally would."

Dumbledore stroked his beard with his long fingers, rocking back from his heels to his toes, "Then that is what we shall do." he decided, sitting back down at the desk, "I take it you become friends with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, then?"

Hermione nodded, discomfort lacing her stomach, but she pushed it away, "Yes, sir. In October."

"And what of your memories?" Dumbledore pushed, "You risk changing your own past, does that not effect them?"

"No, not entirely, sir," Hermione had prepared for this, "When one travels back years, the potion used to stabilize their bodies into the past also stabilizes their minds as well. It sort of a paradox-cancelling potion. That means that even though I am changing an overall timeline, I keep the memories that I had in my original time and will eventually absorb the altered memories of my younger self."

"And how will that be accomplished?"

"I was instructed by Professor Snape that there is potion that I could brew that would allow for my past self, in an act of ordinary time travel, to merge with my current self," she took a deep breath, "The potion would have to be slipped to my younger self without her knowing what it is. She would have to drink an entire dose, then travel at least an hour back in time within the following twenty-four hours after drinking it. The potion, which destabilizes the drinker's form in their time, would then take full effect in the time-space vacuum, and my current self would merge with my younger self, memories and all," Hermione looked between the contemplative stare of Albus Dumbledore and the baffled expression that Snape was giving her, "After my fused selves are stabilized, I could continue on with the rest of my life as I normally would."

Dumbledore looked quite impressed, though Snape looked positively baffled. "There are potions that effectively take you back in time, stabilize you and allow you merge your past self with your present self." he drawled out, as if he wasn't impressed.

"Well, the initial time traveling potion and the fusing potion both must be combined with a time turner to some extent, but for the most part you're correct."

"And I made them?"

Hermione stared at him, his eyes, as dark and brooding as they always seemed to be, were starting to look more like those of a lost boy who had just found his mother after being lost in a supermarket. His shock was not at the notion of the existence of such potions, but at the fact that he had created them.

Suddenly a thought dawned on Hermione, and she felt a fool for not having thought of it sooner.

Lily.

He had wanted to go back and save Lily.

And by the look on his face, Hermione realized that's what he was wanting to do in that exact moment, too.

After a moment for her thoughts to rocket around her skull, she nodded in response, "Yes, sir. You came up with the idea. Professor McGonagall assisted you, though you died before you were able to finish your project. Professor McGonagall finished it with the help of your portrait, but she wanted to hand over the time turner to the Ministry for 'better' use, which you didn't agree with. So, without her knowing, since her knowing would cause her to instruct you to stop and therefore halt all other plans that we had made, we worked in the dungeons in your Potions classroom after curfew. Malfoy worked on the potions and research into what potion should be used and for what purposes, I worked on strategy on where I would go and when, as well as researched Voldemort's behavioral patterns to better understand countermeasures he might make after we stop his original plans. You helped with both time travel theory and potions, since you are obviously very accomplished with potions and you worked with Voldemort, while also assisting with strategy. Professor Dumbledore also assisted with strategy concerning my future at Hogwarts and keeping myself under cover while I live here, considering that I'll be here indefinitely." Hermione finally stopped to take a breath. Snape, on the other hand, couldn't decide if he was angry, impressed, or confused.

Dumbledore looked perplexed as he absorbed the information that Hermione had to say. Finally, he took a breath in, held it for a moment while he considered a thought, and then spoke, "Severus… would you mind giving Miss Granger and I a moment? I'd like to discuss this plan she's mentioned. If you don't mind, Miss." he added to Hermione. She shook her head in allowance.

It didn't take much to get Severus up and out of his chair, and he quickly left the room, shutting the office's door behind him. With that, Dumbledore sat forward in his chair, a very serious expression on his face, "Miss Granger," he started, "By what I have seen in this letter and the information you've relayed to me, my trust in you is established. It is still a fledgling of a thing, easily breakable, but still in existence- not to worry, " he clarified for her, and his reason was sound, "But… this letter mentioned something to me that I'd like to clarify with you."

"Of course, sir." Hermione readied herself.

"You are also here to care for Professor Snape, yes?"

"Yes, sir. He will need help while he's a spy."

"Naturally. A pity he didn't have it in your original timeline," Dumbledore concurred, "When do you wish to move into Professor Snape's quarters, exactly?"

Ah, there it was- the question she'd been waiting for. "As soon as possible, sir." She responded.

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled as a smile broadened his features, "I thought so," he chirped, "Do you know why I asked, Miss Granger?"

Hermione already knew, the moment the second question was out of his mouth. She nodded, "I believe so, sir."

"My letter says, here, that you wished to move in with Severus once he becomes a spy for the Order," Dumbledore looked into his spectacles to peer at the letter again, "Yet it continues to add that that my portrait self believes this to be a statement built for the use of a technicality, since he was a spy for the Order starting before the end of the first war against Voldemort. Am I to presume this notion correct?"

There was no point in lying to who was probably the smartest wizard alive, "Yes, sir."

"Hm," he gave a small, quick nod to the parchment as he set it down, "In confidentiality, Miss Granger," he leaned forward once more, lowering his voice slightly in the process "This letter also gives me reason to believe that it will be beneficial for you to move in with Severus immediately also, so I am inclined to grant your request. Though we will have to persuade Severus into this scheme as well."

Hermione wiggled in her seat, "Of course, sir. But may I ask," she looked down to the letter and back up to twinkling blue eyes, "On what authority do you agree with me upon?"

Dumbledore twinkled at her again before answering, "Upon my own, Miss Granger. Though, it seems, my portrait's opinion was based on evidence that Severus's own portrait gave to me. So I may have had some outside influence."

Hermione gave a slow nod in response, her mind reeling from Dumbledore's answer. After another quick moment of silence, the Headmaster called Snape back into the room, who swept in, robes billowing as always, and stood behind the chair he had sat in, looking between the Headmaster and Hermione.

"It's been concluded, Severus," Dumbledore announced, "The girl moves into your chambers tonight."

"What?" Snape sounded as though he'd suddenly grown nauseous, "What one earth is the meaning of that?"

"She needs to be monitored so that our trust in her can be fully manifested," Dumbledore supplied quickly, "I also have it on good faith that it would be beneficial to you, sooner rather than later, to have her living in the same space as yourself."

"Those are my private chambers, Albus!" Snape snapped savagely, "I do not want them invaded!"

"Miss Granger will stay out of your personal space. A bedroom has already been prepared for her."

Hermione was confused at this, but Snape's face only paled further, "That extra room is my study, old man! If you screw with…"

Dumbledore held up a hand to still Snape's tongue and replied calmly with, "I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Severus. I command this castle, which also happens to be enchanted to do as I bid it. You should be pleased to realize that a room has been added to your chambers, Severus; a bedroom meant for occupancy by Miss Granger."

Hermione was slightly impressed. She didn't remember Minerva ever pulling stunts like that, but Snape merely scoffed in disdain before sweeping away angrily towards the door. Hermione chanced a glance at the Headmaster, who winked at her with a nod, before turning back to follow Snape. Before she could reach him, he whipped around so suddenly that Hermione flinched, hopping back a step as Snape leveled a sinister glare at Dumbledore, then pointed a bony finger at him, "We have just met this girl. If I see anything or even suspect her allegiance is with the wrong side, I will not be held responsible for the consequences."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement, "Of course, Severus."

"If she becomes more of a burden than a help, she'll be sent to you. I will have no part of her scheme thereafter."

"As you wish."

Snape lowered his finger, turned his glare from Dumbledore from Hermione, who nodded her understanding, then billowed out of the office to the staircase. Hermione caught the heavy door before Snape could slam it on her, and walked out, taking a deep breath as she began to descend the staircase herself.

Snape left her in the dust. She could see his form far ahead of her once she got to the bottom of the staircase and the gargoyles shifted to guard it once again. He was practically running back to the dungeons, which she supposed would help him burn off some steam- God knew he needed it. Hermione wasn't sure how she was going to be able to live with the man if he was this angry all the time. She hoped he had good days, but she yet to ever see him have one… except when he was a portrait. The thought of how radically different the portrait of Severus Snape had been compared to the man stomping at full speed back to the dungeons. The Severus she knew from the portrait had good days, at least. He'd managed to be cordial to her, he'd ask her about her day, even going as far to ask about her nightmares- to nearly care about her and the way her life was going- he'd even managed to sneak in a first-name-basis with her before she'd gone back in time. As for the Snape that had just indirectly threatened her in the Headmaster's office… well, she didn't expect much. She stiffened her resolve once more as she descended the last set of stairs that would lead her to the dungeon hall, feeling the temperature drop the deeper into the castle she walked. She knew she was here to help him, and he would need it. Within the next few months, Snape would be attacked by Fluffy in the third floor corridor, and he wouldn't see Madam Pomfrey about it either, judging by how excessive his limp was and for how long he'd had it. She didn't want to get in his way, and she needed to make sure he'd know that.

She opened the door to Snape's quarters tentatively, not wanting to startle him if he was in the sitting room. She didn't see him in the sitting room as she walked in, so she closed the door behind her quietly. She devised that he had retired to bed, too worn out from his day and from the night's events to bother saying goodnight or to even wait until she returned. Yet as she turned around from the door to walk down the hallway, she was ambushed.

So he hadn't gone to bed.

He grabbed her by the collar of her robes and crushed her into the wall next to the door, knocking the wind out of her lungs. The snarl on his face was certainly not friendly, though it didn't seem as severe as the snarls she'd been getting from him thus far. That had to be a plus. However, he was only a few inches from her face and had lifted her far enough into the air that she had to be on tiptoes so she wouldn't be hanging from his hands alone- he was much stronger than he looked. She could feel his warm breath, a shocking contrast to the cold, sharp air around her, as their eyes leveled with each other.

"Listen here, Miss Granger," his voice rumbled ominously, "I am not nearly as trusting as the old man, nor do I take lightly to your ambush into my life.' Clearly, Hermione thought, "I don't want my space invaded, I want you to keep to yourself and not consistently interrupt my thoughts or bother me while I'm working, is that crystalline clear?"

Hermione nodded as best as she could.

He gave her a fresh shove against the wall and added, "And I do not care about whatever kind of relationship we had in your timeline," he sneered, but his comment made Hermione's eyebrows knit together in confusion, "This is my timeline. I do not want it to be meddled with by some ignorant girl who walks in here and thinks she knows how to 'help the anti-war effort', as you so delicately put it, and I certainly do not need you doting over me just because you have watched me die, is that also clear, Miss Granger?"

Hermione felt the blood leave her face as she forced another muted nod. He let her drop to the floor, which she did with a huff. How much did he put in that letter? Her mind was whirling as much as Snape's robes were while he stomped into his bedroom and slammed the door shut. She heard the click of a lock from the hallway as she prayed that Severus hadn't written about her nightmares. She shook herself out of her state and walked down the corridor to her bedroom, which was a newly added door at the end of the hallway on the left, next to the bathroom. When she walked in she found it was quite similar to her room that she'd shared with the girls in her year when she was a student, only with all the space to herself. She had a luxurious king size four-poster all to herself, with two bedside tables, a dresser, vanity, and a closet. There was even a bookshelf on the opposite wall to the door, and beside it stood a desk, prepped and ready for use. She wasn't sure what she'd be using a desk for anymore, she wasn't a teacher or a student any longer, but she knew she'd find at least one good use for it.

As she opened her bag and began to unpack, she thought back on something Snape had said to her before he mentioned his death: And I do not care about whatever kind of relationship we had in your timeline. What on earth had that meant? Relationship? As far as Hermione was aware, she had only managed to become friends with Professor Snape, and even then the use of the word was flexible. She certainly had cared about him, to the point where she was going to miss him now that he was no longer at his disposal, but she had only been on a speaking basis with Severus's portrait for about two months- there hadn't been much time to develop any true kind of tight-knit friendship. The way Snape had spat the word made Hermione think that he thought they had been close, and that he very clearly did not want the same kind of connection with her.

Pity, though, Hermione thought as she put away the last of her belongings, It nearly seems inevitable, since he is, after all, nearly the same man.

With that, Hermione put on a clean pair of pyjamas and went into the bathroom to clean herself for bed. She settled into bed that night feeling the weight of slumber settle dreamily onto her eyelids, lulling her into sleep… The thought of taking her usual cap of Dreamless Sleep having completely slipped her fatigue-addled mind.

~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~SSHG~

A/N: We've finally gotten a look at Severus! I've taken a little time out of writing this fic to do some research on Severus in the original books and some movie clips to make sure I felt comfortable enough writing him, though I doubt I ever truly will, but I'll be doing my best to pay proper tribute. I'm starting in on finals week at my university, so no updates for the rest of the week, however I'll be free for the summer afterwards and regular updates will commence! As for the balance between Hermione and Severus, for those of you interested: this is going to be a slowburn, if you haven't guessed yet. Snape wasn't ready for Hermione to drop into his life as she did, so he's going to need some adjustment time. Not only that, but being as finicky as he is, it's going to be a bit of challenge for Hermione to befriend him as she did his portrait. Also, their relationship, as I've started to set up a lil bit, is going to be respect and honesty based, as well as a product of choice rather than circumstance. The reason behind his anger will be a lead into why this is an angsty fic, in case any of you are concerned about him being too stubborn to her in the future. I want them to grow together as people rather than they just blindly fall head over heels and have it somehow turn out alright. That said, I'm glad that a lot of you have liked the set up for them in previous chapters, so keep me posted on how you're liking it now! I read all comments and reviews, and I'm so thankful to everyone who's taken the time to let me know what they think! It's given me SO much drive to continue.

Last thing: extra HUGE thanks to all of y'all who got me to 69 follows on 4/20. Honestly… it made my week xD

Have a good day, enjoy some snacks, stay hydrated, and happy reading!

-Cherry