Chapter 6: Parting Gifts

"Where are we?" Hermione asked as she looked around at the quiet suburban street they had just landed on with a crack that echoed off the run-down houses.

"Spinner's End," Snape told her, still holding onto her hand even as he began to stride towards one of the many identical brown houses on the street, tugging her along behind him as he opened the gate and strode up the path. If she hadn't been feeling sorry for herself over the fact that she would never see her parents again, Hermione might've taken a more detailed note of her surroundings and of the fact that the heavily warded property sported an untended lawn and an overgrown garden that did not share the everyday weeds of the muggle gardens in the surroundings houses.

"I thought we were going back to Hogwarts?" Hermione said to her teacher even as he tugged her through the front door and into the house.

"I need to retrieve a few things before we do that," Snape told her, leading her into a spacious and nicely decorated living room.

"This is your house?" Hermione asked curiously even as he led her over to an armchair where he proceeded to push her into the seat.

"Yes. Do you need a handkerchief?" He asked briskly, clearly uncomfortable with the way she tried to rise from the chair to peruse his extensive book collection that lined every wall. He made it obvious that he didn't want her snooping when he pushed her back down into the seat as she tried to rise.

"Why would I….?" Hermione trailed off when he ran one long, bony finger down her cheek and held it up in front of her, showing her the wet tear drops.

"I didn't realise I was…." He cut her off before she could finish by handing her a handkerchief that was embroidered with the initials E.P. followed closely by a glass of whiskey.

"I don't drink," Hermione protested even as she watched him take a liberal mouthful from his own glass.

"You can't risk death and addlement without at least getting a little tipsy just once," He told her seriously and Hermione was amazed by how certain he seemed on the matter. "Now, sit here and drink that while I find what I'm looking for. Do NOT go snooping through my things. There's more whiskey in the decanter if you want it."

With that he swept out of the room and headed for the stairs Hermione could see in the hallway. She itched to get back to her feet and peruse his book collection, curious about the many titles she could see on display, but given his penchant for rage and his stealthiness, Hermione didn't trust that she could get back in her chair before he came back with whatever he was looking for. Instead she mopped at her face, drying away the tears she hadn't realised she'd been crying and took a gulp of the whiskey he'd given her.

It was smoky and made her throat burn, instantly warming her insides in a way that she couldn't decide if it was disturbing or comforting. Figuring that Snape had a point, Hermione took another gulp. After all, she might very well be dead before morning so it made sense that since she was unlikely to lose her virginity or tick off any of the other things on her bucket list, she at the very least had to get drunk just once. Even if she was getting drunk alone. In Snape's house.

When she finished her glass and reached for the decanter for another, Hermione spotted a precariously stacked pile of books by her chair and she smiled as she reached for the topmost book. It was a textbook on the creation of spells and Hermione realised that he truly was interested in creating spells. He'd earmarked several of the pages and had written on even more of them with titbits of information from other sources that related to the topic of each page.

She became so immersed in the text and in trying to decipher his tiny, spiky, cramped handwriting that she jumped in surprise when she felt him touch her ankle.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded, staring at him in confusion when she found Severus Snape kneeling in front of her armchair and fiddling with the hem of her left pant leg, his cool fingers brushing against the inside of her ankle.

"Giving you something and making sure you won't be able to remove it," he informed her coolly, without looking up. Hermione leant forwards, trying to see what he was doing and she raised her eyebrows when she realised he'd wrapped some kind of material around her ankle and was using his wand to fasten it in such a way that she might never be able to remove it.

"What is that?" Hermione asked, not even really noticing the fact that in order to see her face was right next to his.

"It's made from unicorn hair, braided together and imbued with a potion I invented that circumvents the effects of Veritaserum," Snape informed her, his wand still aimed at her ankle.

"You invented a potion that makes Veritaserum ineffective?" Hermione asked, feeling a little awed by the very idea.

"I'm a spy for the Order against the Death Eaters. Do you really think I rely entirely on luck and the chance that the Dark Lord will simply trust me and not demand that I prove my loyalty and demand the truth in a way that he believes to be infallible?"

"So why are you giving one to me?" Hermione asked him even as he leant back a little, staring into her face.

"I warned you that the teenage version of me is likely to give you Veritaserum. You really don't want to see the results if the teenage me finds out why you're there," Snape told her, his voice soft and serious as he peered into her face with those unfathomable dark eyes.

"Well, thank you," Hermione murmured, wondering if it was simply the effects of having had two full glasses of straight liquor that had her staring into those black eyes and feeling a little like she was going to fall right into them.

"Don't ever take it off. It's enchanted to adjust to you size automatically, so when you're given the De-Aging potion and shrink back to being a scrawny twelve year old, it won't come off and won't cut off your circulation as you grow again…. This is for you as well," he said, holding up something else in the dimly lit room.

Hermione squinted at it, trying to see what it was.

"Is that a time-turner?" she asked him when she recognised the design.

"It was. I took the sand out and put in a potion instead. It's also imbued with several potions and enchantments for protection. This will guarantee that you survive the journey back in time. Don't take this off either, and don't lose it," he said.

Rather than offering it to her, he slipped the long chain over her head, his hands sweeping her curls free of the chain until it rested against her skin. Hermione squeaked in surprise when he proceeded to drop the amulet down the front of her shirt until it rested flat against her breastbone.

"Why are you giving me all these things?" Hermione asked curiously, still staring at him even as he got to his feet and took his book from her lap, closing it and putting it back on his side-table.

"So that you might actually have a chance to change the past rather than just going to your death tonight," he told her seriously, taking both her hands and lifting her until she stood in front of him.

Hermione stared up into his face, noticing suddenly that he stood very close to her. Absently she wondered if he was doing it to intimidate her or perhaps unsettle her or if he simply had no regard for personal space barriers. Just as she opened her mouth to thank him for the necklace and the anklet that would help her in her assignment, she felt his long, bony fingers pressing insistently beneath her chin, causing her to tip her head back slightly.

Before she could blink, he leaned in and planted a kiss right on her lips.

Hermione blinked in surprise when she felt his free hand cup her cheek and slide into her loose hair. His mouth was warm and firm on hers and entirely non-threatening. She didn't know if it was the alcohol or her new perspective on life given that she was leaving this time-line forever, but rather than over-thinking the fact that he was twice her age and not exactly the most attractive man in the world, Hermione simply reacted.

She kissed him back.

He tasted like the whiskey she'd been drinking and when his tongue swept against hers, Hermione was very aware of the fact that she kind of melted against him. Hermione hadn't kissed many men in her life, in fact Snape was only the third, but he was the best she'd ever kissed. His tongue tangled with hers in a way that made her toes curl inside her shoes and had parts of her body that she didn't even know she had roaring to life. Bringing her hand up, Hermione tangled it in his dark hair, marvelling at how silky it felt to touch.

When he pulled her closer until she was pressed against the length of him, Hermione sighed against his lips. His personal scent invaded her senses, a combination of potion ingredients, whiskey and something sharp like peppermint. Her heart began to race and Hermione wondered if the whiskey had tampered with her inhibitions.

She ought to be pulling away and staring at him in wide-eyed horror. Ought to be demanding to know what he thought he was doing, but she didn't. Instead, Hermione's eyes fluttered closed and she surrendered to the feelings he was eliciting from her. Her body tingled all over and her heart hammered in her chest. A slow, pleasant burn began beneath her abdomen and Hermione felt every touch like it sizzled in her blood.

His lips left hers reluctantly and Hermione sighed when his nose glided along her jaw before he buried his face against her neck. She ought to have blushed over the little involuntary whimper he elicited from her when he began to kiss her neck, nipping at her throat and suckling the flesh into his warm mouth. Goose-prickles raced across her skin as he exhaled slowly, his warm breath teasing her senses and making her heart race faster. Hermione's hand tightened in his hair, urging him on even as she let her head tip back, surrendering her neck to him attentions with a delighted sigh.

When he pulled away she blinked in confusion over what had just occurred. She opened her eyes again slowly, noting that they felt heavy and feeling the inexplicable urge to fight doing so, as though that might prolong the pleasurable feelings the kiss he'd just given her had inspired.

"Wow," Hermione murmured softly. She blushed when she heard the word slip out of her mouth, realising what she'd just said even as her mind scrambled to catch up with her body and began demanding answers over why he had just kissed her and why she had let him. She suddenly found herself understanding why Malfoy had looked so confused when she'd snogged him earlier.

"Thanks," she heard him chuckle darkly, clearly taking her word as a compliment.

"What are you looking at?" Hermione asked him when she noticed him watching her as though waiting for something. She was still blushing pink and wanting to know why he'd just done that but also still reeling from his kiss and wondering who on earth had taught Severus Snape to kiss.

"Just waiting for the regret to kick in," he told her, his voice that low, deep baritone she was so used to.

"Why did you just kiss me?" she asked him, frowning softly and bringing her hand up to touch her lips in an attempt to stop them tingling.

He stared at her for a long time before answering her and Hermione nibbled at her lip, wondering what had possessed him to have decided that snogging her was something he wanted to do.

"No one should risk death without at least the prelude to carnal knowledge," he told her and Hermione giggled when his mouth twisted into what she suspected was a self-deprecating, mocking smile. She realised suddenly that perhaps he didn't really know why he'd kissed her either and so had said the first thing that had popped into his head.

"I didn't mean to let things get so out of hand," he admitted gruffly, "I only meant to kiss you chastely to thank you for making me dinner…."

"I see…" Hermione murmured, she was slightly confused and the moment grew awkward before she said, "Now who was seducing whom?"

That made him laugh and Hermione was surprised by how rich Snape's laugh was when he wasn't laughing at you. He blushed just the tiniest bit too before his gaze drifted from her face down to the front of her shirt. Hermione followed his gaze when she saw him frown and she realised that she must have still been clutching her glass of whiskey because she had somehow managed to spill it all over the school shirt she still wore.

"You've made quite the mess of yourself," Snape commented dryly, his gaze lifting back to meet hers when Hermione pulled the fabric out to glare at it in frustration, noticing as she did that she still clutched her now empty cup in her hand, seeming unable to let it go in spite of being soundly snogged and having spilt it all over herself.

"Indeed. I wasn't expecting your unique methods for expressing your gratitude," Hermione replied, grinning just a little bit and unable to keep from touching her lips again. They felt a little swollen.

"Perhaps it would be wise if you didn't return to Hogwarts covered in alcohol before undertaking the assignment you've been given…" Snape said before he turned away from her and disappeared up the steps again.

While he was gone Hermione pulled out her wand and tried waving it to remove the liquid soaked into the fabric of her shirt. She frowned in confusion when the stain and indeed the liquid refused to budge.

"Alcohol is resistant to magic Miss Granger," Snape said, his voice startling her, "That is why it makes such a useful base in most potions. You will not be able to remove the stain without laundering the garment."

Hermione stared at him in surprise when she noticed he was holding out a clean white undershirt of his towards her, clearly expecting her to take it so she could wear it to return to Hogwarts without smelling like an alehouse. She took it without voicing her suggestions that returning in his clothing might look even worse, and she stared at him awkwardly for a moment before she begun unbuttoning her own shirt, at which point he turned his back.

When she was done Hermione coughed awkwardly.

"I'm dressed now," She said softly, waiting for him to turn back around.

"I believe you have an assignment you need to be getting to," he said fixing her one of those piercing glances that so often unsettled students. Hermione felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth at the return of his familiar, stern, cold tone of voice, indicating that he'd clearly realised what they'd just done and was no doubt degrading himself silently and cursing himself for his lack of judgement. She could resist pointing that fact out in an attempt to throw him off kilter and unsettle him again, already missing the easier way he'd spoken to her after she'd shared banter with him all evening.

"More like your brain is kicking back into gear and you're panicking over the idea of just having snogged me, meaning you want to shove me back through time as fast as you can before anyone can find out that there's a little more to this relationship."

"You enjoy putting words in my mouth, don't you?" he asked.

"I kind of like it when you blush," Hermione smirked at him. She giggled when he glared at her.

"What was I thinking?" she heard him mutter, shaking his head as he collected some other belongings and then made a beeline for the door.

"I'm still wondering that myself. I mean, I had a couple of glasses of whiskey and might die before dawn."

"That's your excuse, eh?" he asked, staring at her drolly when she trailed after him.

"And I'm sticking to it. What's your excuse?" Hermione grinned, "After all, you made your opinion of me quite plain earlier. And yet here we are."

"Perhaps I was simply overcome by your kindness," he replied frostily, still glaring at her.

"Kindness?" Hermione asked, following him as he marched out of his house.

"No one else has ever cooked me anything," he said without looking back at her.

"Mrs Weasley cooks for you at Grimmauld Place…." Hermione said. Snape snorted.

"I never stay for meals in that dump."

"The elves cook for you at Hogwarts," Hermione tried again.

"Me and the rest of the school."

"Well, that was the most interesting way I've ever been thanked for something that seems entirely normal to me." Hermione said realising that arguing the point with him further was only going to result in him losing his temper.

"Anything else on your bucket list?" he asked her as he led her through the house, "So far you've ticked off snogging an enemy, getting a little tipsy and snogging a person who was at one time your potions instructor."

"Don't forget that I saw your house and told Ron what a git he was for not realising I was in love with him," Hermione pointed out cheerfully.

"A rather short bucket list you've got there Miss Granger. You've clearly not put enough thought into this."

"I'm not going to die, you know," she told him.

"Maybe not."

"You gave me something that's supposed to guarantee I make it. What's on your bucket list anyway, if you're going to sound so condescending about the lack of thought I've put into mine?" Hermione pointed out.

"You're too attentive for you own good," Snape accused her.

"I disagree. Paying attention has often meant the difference between life and death in the past. So are you going to answer my question?"

"Not with anything you want to hear," He replied, holding the door open and waiting for her to leave so he could lock it.

"How would you know what I want to hear?"

"Let it go, Hermione" Snape told her, clearly not liking being questioned.

"Fine, be that way and I'll draw my own conclusions" Hermione told him, irked that he wouldn't tell her.

"Good luck with that," he retorted before turning his attention to resetting the locks and wards protecting his house.

"Thank you," Hermione replied contrarily. "So…. What's going to happen if Dumbledore tries to send me back and it doesn't work?"

"Must you constantly pester me with questions?" he demanded and Hermione could tell that he didn't like even the mention of such an idea.

"Actually, yes. I must constantly pester you. You're supposed to answer any questions I might have."

"When it pertains to your education, yes."

"Well I was asking questions about the education I received inside but you got your nose out of joint, so I changed the subject, and yet you still have you wand in a knot," Hermione said, growing exasperated.

"Stop it!" he commanded, storming down the path and onto the street where he threw out his wand arm, summoning the Knight Bus. He stepped back just in time for the bus to appear in front of him and Hermione rolled her eyes when he glared at her over his shoulder.

"Good evening and Welcome to the Knight Bus," Stan Shunpike began again, before stopping when he saw it was them.

"Two tickets to Hogsmeade," Snape hissed at him, handing over the money for both tickets and stalking onto the bus. Hermione giggled when she followed him and slipped into the seat beside him, once again forced to sit by the window so she couldn't be snatched out of the aisle.

When she was sitting beside him, Hermione turned in her seat so she could stare at him. On some level she knew she should be blushing and sitting in awkward silence after the act they'd just engaged in. She'd kissed him and he was twice her age, prickly and grumpy and not exactly the most attractive man on the planet to look at. He was nasty and cranky and always scowling, and yet, Hermione kind of liked him. As mean as he was.

"You're growing on me," Hermione whispered softly, smirking at him.

"I doubt that very much. You're simply overcome with the ridiculous endorphins supplied by your brain in order to rationalise to yourself what we've done. Now stop staring at me, stop asking questions, and stop being so insufferable. Just sit there in silence until we get to Hogwarts and I never have to see you again."

"Do I have a love bite on my neck?" Hermione asked him solemnly, trying not to giggle at his frosty attitude.

She jumped when he whipped around to face her, his hands wrapping around her jaw, cupping her cheeks, and his lips crashing down on hers again. His tongue delved into her mouth as though he couldn't get enough of her and Hermione melted into his kiss.

Who taught him to kiss so well? Hermione wondered idly while his fingers weaved into her hair as he kissed her as though he were a starving man and she was nourishment. After all, Hermione didn't imagine that many in the world would look past his appearance and his nasty personality to bother getting close enough to him emotionally, and she doubted many willingly looked past all of those things to pursue a physical relationship with him.

"Stop. It!" He ground out when he pulled back from her, glancing around and clearly grateful for the fact that the bus was darkened and deserted but for them on this floor.

"I didn't do anything," Hermione protested, confused over why he'd suddenly snogged her again.

"You're infuriating and entirely too insufferable for your own good!" he reiterated.

"So I've been told," Hermione said drily, "I get the feeling you sort of like it, though."

"I get the feeling the teenage version of me is going to find you entirely irritating and want to throttle you until I'm about sixteen," Snape retorted, not looking at her.

"And after you're sixteen?" Hermione asked curiously. He fixed her a look that made her insides quiver, silently answering her question.

It was in that moment that she realised that while the first kiss might've been intended to simply brush against her lips in a chaste peck of gratitude, he'd been thrown off kilter by her enthusiastic response, and by the way she'd been speaking to him all night. It was as thought she'd managed to rankled the un-ranklable and Hermione delighted in the knowledge that she'd found a way to unsettle the man who was so notorious for his rigid self-control.

"You'll probably become rather acquainted with the inside of broom cupboards," He told her, "And stop smirking like that."

"It's strange, seeing you like this," Hermione told him.

"Like what?"

"You're normally so self-possessed and rigidly in control at all times."

He glared at her, making Hermione shrink back just a little in the face of such fierceness.

"Hogsmeade!" Stan called from downstairs, and Hermione got to her feet, still clutching her purple beaded bag that Dumbledore had given her to keep her things in.

Snape didn't say anything else as they got back off the bus and began walking towards the gates to Hogwarts. Hermione walked along beside him, unable to entirely keep the grin off her face, especially when he kept shooting her irritated glances, little huffing sounds of annoyance escaping him.

"Is there anything else you need from your dormitory before going to see the Headmaster?" He asked her as they climbed the Grand staircase.

"Of course there is," Hermione replied, giggling a little when he sighed in frustration. It was clear that he meant to escort her and didn't want to have to walk all the way to Gryffindor Tower before delivering her to Professor Dumbledore's office. Something that became clear when he muttered unkind things under his breath for most of the climb.

"Hurry up. I'll wait here," He told her outside the Portrait hole leaning against the wall beside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Yes Severus," Hermione said in a sing-song voice, enjoying it entirely too much when he fixed her the look that sent most students scurrying in fear.

"Insufferable," She heard him mutter as the Fat Lady swung closed. Hermione giggled all the way across the deserted common room and up into her dormitory where she proceeded to dig several personal belongings out of her trunk, stuffing them all into the purple beaded bag Dumbledore had given her.

Crookshanks leapt up on her bed and butted his head against her hands as she was searching to make sure she had everything and Hermione smiled fondly at him.

"I'm going to miss you," Hermione told him, cupping his squashed face in her hands and pressing a kiss to his fluffy head while he purred. "Be good for Ginny if I fail. I'll try to find you back then."

She scooped him up and hugged him tightly, carrying him with her as she descended the stairs back to the Common room. It felt so wrong to leave him as she put the ginger ball of fluff down on the couch, but she knew that if things somehow went wrong, Ginny would take care of him. She gave him one last kiss on the top of his fluffy head before exiting the common room, pushing through the portrait hole where the Fat Lady had begun snoring once more.

Snape waited for her right where she'd left him, leaning against the wall and looking like his usual cranky, sneering self.

"Could you have taken any longer?" he demanded irritably, scowling when he turned that unfathomable black gaze on her.

"Yes. I could have," Hermione grinned at him before turning and beginning to walk back towards the fourth floor and Dumbledore's office. Idly she wondered if maybe they ought to wait until morning before sending her back, before remembering that by travelling through time they would be able to pick the exact time and date she would land in the past.

"You didn't think you ought to change?" Snape asked her in his hissing voice as he glided along like a bat beside her, his robes billowing behind him.

"Why would I do that?" Hermione asked him, glancing down and realising she still wore the blouse he'd given her rather than her own school shirt.

"Because the Headmaster is going to ask where you got that."

"But it's comfortable," Hermione protested.

"I'm aware of that. Which is why I wanted it back," Snape told her, rolling his eyes.

"Too bad. I'm taking it with me. Past you won't know it's yours," Hermione told him.

"No, but Dumbledore might when he sees you wearing it accompanied by that blush," Snape retorted, looking annoyed now.

"What blush? I'm not blushing. Blushing happens when one is embarrassed. And I'm not…." Hermione was cut off just as they reached the hallway where Dumbledore office entry was located when Snape suddenly pushed her into the wall, his hands delving into her hair again as he pressed his body the length of hers.

He snogged her earnestly, making Hermione tremble at the feel of his lips and tongue against hers. If she hadn't been so caught up in the feel of having him snog her again, Hermione might've sniggered over the way he'd clearly lost control or decided he rather liked snogging her, else he wouldn't continue to do so.

"That blush," he told her knowingly when he pulled away, his voice husky again.

"I'm not blushing," she protested breathlessly.

"Oh of course not, a little seductress like you would never blush," he rolled his eyes, his low voice a little gravelly now. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him when she felt herself begin to actually blush.

"You're the one who keep seducing me. So you can just shove the idea of calling me a seductress somewhere unpleasant," Hermione retorted huffily, her cheeks darkening when she heard Snape give a dark chuckle.

"It's for the best that you're about to hurl yourself back through time," he told her as he walked away towards the gargoyle and gave it the password.

"Because you want to get rid of me so that you can stop blushing?" Hermione asked snidely, stepping onto the ascending staircase beside him.

"So you don't keep talking to me like that and wind up provoking me into kissing you in front of the class," he corrected her, his dark eyes narrowed on her as though it was entirely her fault he seemed to have misplaced his self-control.

"Oh, now it's my fault you just pushed me into the wall and snogged me?" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Of course it is. You were being contrary again," he told her.

"This better not be a habit I have to deal with. I won't have you blaming me for things that aren't my fault," Hermione warned him.

"If I find something that's not your fault, Miss Granger, I'll be sure not to blame you for it."

"Yeah right," Hermione scoffed.

"Make sure you don't mess things up worse, alright?" he said, suddenly serious even though he sounded like he doubted her ability not to create a total clusterfuck. Hermione could tell he was serious because he didn't curl his lip at her in annoyance.

"Like how?" Hermione demanded even as Snape knocked on the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist when I say mean things," he told her, "Don't give up on trying to be my friend, no matter how much I push you away. Don't betray me. If you're really going to do this and change things to keep me from falling in with the Death Eaters you're going to have your work cut out for you…. Just don't let people like Lucius Malfoy intimidate you and don't let me ignore you or fall in with the wrong crowd."

"In others words do exactly what I intend to do, which is to befriend you and doggedly tolerate it even when you're awful to me until you come to your senses and realise I'm the best thing to ever happen to you?" Hermione grinned at him.

"It's like you want me to snog you again," he told her, looking wickedly amused beneath that layer of constant annoyance he wore as armour.

"Well…" Hermione shrugged, before she grinned when his eyes flashed at her in warning while they heard Dumbledore call for them both to enter his office.

Hermione smirked when his hand brushed against her lower back as he ushered her into the office in front of him.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Severus. You're trip to London went smoothly I trust?"

Snape nodded.

"And you've gathered everything you believe you need Miss Granger? Said your goodbyes?"

"I have Professor," Hermione replied formally, noticing that he was eyeing the oversized shirt she wore and clearly intrigued. When his eyes danced over to Snape suspiciously, Snape stared stoically back at the bespectacled headmaster, his expression and demeanour giving nothing away.

"Excellent!" he said, clapping his hands together, "Well then my dear, if you would like to come over here and sit down for a moment, I have several things I need to pass on to you for you to deliver to the past me."

Hermione moved over and sat down at the desk in front of the Headmaster, noticing that Snape dropped silently into the chair beside hers, earning them both another peculiar look from Dumbledore.

"Now, there are some things I will simply ask you to carry in that little bag I gave you, such as these," He handed her several glass phials with potions and memories contained in them as well as some pieces of parchment, "However, some things I simply don't trust not to fall into the wrong hands. I would like to personally store them inside your head, if you don't mind. I've left myself a note among those other things to extract them from you."

Hermione nodded her consent to being used as a storage vessel temporarily.

"I must warn you my dear, it does hurt somewhat to have me do this," Dumbledore warned her, waiting for her to nod again.

"I understand Professor," Hermione said bravely, "Go ahead."

When he pulled out his wand and held it to her temple, Hermione held her breath. It began as a little niggling sort of tickle at her temple, but rapidly grew in severity until without conscious instruction from her mind, Hermione's hand shot out and seized hold of Snape's on the desk, squeezing it even as she gritted her teeth and scrunched up her eyes at the pain of having things forced into her head.

She caught flashes of them behind her eyelids, many of them were memories of times in Dumbledore's life, and Hermione could understand why it was that he chose not to share them. Many of them were important Order of the Phoenix secrets and events that involved Voldemort and Harry and the Potters and Sirius and Snape.

For several excruciating minutes it went on, all of them flashing in her mind, many of them things she couldn't even begin to comprehend. When it was finally over, Hermione was grateful to already be sitting down. She swayed dizzily in her seat, still clutching Snape's hand tightly in her own even though she could feel him wriggling it. Her head pounded as she saw sparkles at the corners of her vision, making her suspect things would soon reach migraine stage.

"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked her, sounding concerned.

"A little dizzy, and I have a nasty headache," Hermione told him, blinking slowly, "But I'll be ok."

"We'll need to wait a few minutes I'm afraid. It might not be safe to send you off with a headache," Dumbledore smiled kindly, "And don't worry, when past-me extracts those, it won't hurt at all though it will leave you a little absent-minded for an hour or two. Now then, I assume you have shared with Severus the nature of your assignment?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione said, letting go of Snape to rub both hands against her temples.

"Excellent. Now, this is the list of those people I would like you to attempt to sway from the dark arts if you can do so in any way," Dumbledore handed her a folded piece of paper. "I trust that you're past experiences with Time-Travel have taught you that you should not meddle too much. Obviously in this instance things are different as it's unlikely you will ever run into yourself, however I must insist that you share only with me that you are from twenty-six years in the future, and the reason for your assignment."

"I understand Professor," Hermione said, beginning to nod before wincing when the movement made her head throb nastily.

"Let me see if I can do anything to improve that headache," Dumbledore said and Hermione sighed in relief when he waved his wand at her and the throbbing ache and the sparkles in her vision went away.

"Much better. Thank you Professor."

"You're welcome. I must ask you Miss Granger, are you entirely sure you want to do this? I am happy to wait until we lose this war before having you go back in time."

Hermione caught the way Snape blanched out the corner of her eyes at the very idea of her possibly deciding not to go through with her decision to return in time.

"I'm sure, Professor." Hermione assured Dumbledore, "I can do far more good for the people I love by going back than I can by staying here."

"Well then, my dear… I believe that is everything. I've provided a letter to myself to explain your assignment and arrival. I think it would be best for you to return to a time six months prior to the beginning of term, to allow us the time to find you guardians to look after you when you return to being twelve years old again, and to allow you to adjust to the strain travelling so far back in time may put on you. Not to mention the effects of reversing your physical age by six years….. Let me see now…"

Hermione watched curiously as he went around his desk and began flicking through an old calendar as though determining a date to send her back to.

"Ah yes, I think it would be best to have you arrive in my office at precisely 11:45 in the morning on Friday, March 12th in the year 1971. That will provide us the weekend to get things organised without interfering with the schedule too much and will guarantee that I will be in my office to meet you….. Are you ready, my dear?"

He came back around the desk clutching a time-turner and Hermione got to her feet. Snape followed suit.

"I'm ready," Hermione said, her insides beginning to twist up with nervousness. Dumbledore looped the fine gold chain of the time-turner over her head and Hermione flinched slightly when Professor Snape swiped a finger across her chest at the opening of her shirt, his fingers catching on the modified time-turner he'd given her earlier and fishing it out of the blouse he'd given her.

"Alright now, this may take a little while, there are an awful lot of turns that need to be made," Dumbledore said even as he began to turn the delicate dial on the time-turner. Snape did the same thing on the one he'd given her, giving it a turn at the exact moment Dumbledore did.

Hermione wanted to say something to them…. To thank them both for all they'd taught her. To bid them goodbye. But she was too nervous to do so lest they accidentally turn it a time too many or too few.

"You'll have a few moments before it registers and you begin to be sent back," Dumbledore told her as though reading her mind while he continued to turn the dial on the little watch.

Hermione held her breath when the final turn came.

"Any parting words?" Snape asked in that cold voice of his.

"Thank you both. For teaching me so much…. I guess I'll be seeing you," Hermione murmured, knowing it was no use asking them to pass on messages of love to Harry and the others because the minute she went back everything was going to change and they would not remember a word she'd said.

"We'll be seeing you Miss Granger," Dumbledore smiled.

"Good luck," Hermione heard Snape say, his gaze finding hers for a moment and one of those almost self-deprecating smiles crossing his face.

As the world began to spin rapidly Hermione heard him murmur, "Close your eyes," and then he was gone.