Nothing in the world of Harry Potter belongs to me. I'm just playing in the great J.K. Rowling's sand box. Thank you.

Just a little warning, that things are kind of dark in this chapter and there are a few possible triggers, so proceed with caution.

Chapter 8

July 5, 1994

Molly Weasley was the first one to really notice that something was wrong with Hermione. Sure, everyone in the family noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the irritability, but it ran deeper than that.

Hermione had stopped eating for the most part, only taking one or two bites at meals, and only because someone was watching her. The rest she would silently vanish bit by bit when she thought no one was watching. Molly had been watching though. She had noticed that the young witch had lost quite a bit of weight, all of her clothes incredibly baggy. Her hair had become very lank and brittle instead of its normal bushy halo.

The Weasley Matriarch was also aware that the girl had not been sleeping. She went into the room she shared with Ginny and laid down each night, at least until she thought everyone was asleep. Molly always hear the tentative steps on the creaky stairs each night.

Additionally, Hermione was jumpy at the slightest moments and just plain uninterested. She rarely read anymore, just staring off in space.

Molly was beyond worried. At first, she assumed that it would be a phase, but then it continued. Mrs. Weasley knew that Hermione had never really felt part of the family. She felt like the boys were brothers and Ginny her sister. Hermione treated her and Arthur as surrogate parents, but it wasn't mom and dad.

Not that Molly blamed her. Even though her memories had been locked away for a while, even magic couldn't erase the bond between Hermione and Minerva. Honestly, Molly thought it was needlessly cruel of Dumbledore to separate them. True, Hermione was the closest to Harry Potter, who usually spent a good chunk of his summer at the Burrow. That had been Dumbledore's plan all along and it was working well enough. Hermione was definitely the brains behind the trio, unable to keep the boy out of trouble in the first place, but usually able to get him out of trouble after the fact.

Either way, Molly considered Hermione part of the family and she was seriously worried about the girl. So much so, that she had written to Minerva and asked her to come for tea in the morning. The professor would be flooing in to the Burrow any moment, so Molly bustled around preparing the tea and setting the dining room table. They hadn't always been close friends, even after the first war, but had gotten closer since Hermione had de-aged, Molly trying to keep Minerva in the loop regarding the girl.

The floo flared green and the tall, older witch stepped into the small kitchen, brushing the soot off her robes. Molly had just finished setting the table and stepped across the room to greet her guest.

"Minerva, thanks for coming," Molly said, wrapping her in a hug.

"Of course Molly. It is good to see you," she replied.

"Well, come on, let's sit down," Molly told her, gesturing to the table.

The women sat at the table, the teapot hovering in the air, pouring on its own. They sat silently together, each preparing the tea to their preference. Once they had a few sips each, Minerva spoke.

"So, what's going on with Hermione?"

"She's not sleeping, not eating, and not interested in anything," Molly fretted. "She's lost a lot of weight too. I'm not sure what's going on or how to help her."

Minerva swore quietly, causing the other woman to look at her with concern.

"We told Albus that it was a stupid idea. And obviously he never told you to look out for signs of addiction!"

"Addiction to what?" Molly demanded.

"Time travel," Minerva answered quietly. "Albus gave her a time turner at the end of second year and took it back at the end of this last year."

"Why would he do that?" Molly asked in horror.

"Some nonsense about a prophecy. Anyways, if she used the time turner as much as Severus thinks she did, then honestly, she should have been checked into a program right away. We need to get her into a program, Molly," Minerva explained.

"Is it really that serious?"

"Yes," Minerva answered. "I can take her to St. Mungos today. The benefit to time travel addiction, is that she doesn't have a way to feed it. However, that makes the symptoms worse."

"How do you know all this?" Molly asked, slightly suspicious.

Minerva sighed.

"You cannot repeat this, but Albus has had some problems before. And Severus has been in an out of the addiction ward since she was de-aged," the older witch explained sadly.

"Well, we should go ahead and get this over with," Molly sighed.

Sighing, she stood from the table, crossed through the living room, and leaned against the stairs.

"Hermione, can you come down here please?" Molly gently hollered up the stairs.

Slowly, Hermione emerged from the room she shared. Carefully, she made her way down the creaking, crooked staircase, joining Molly at the base and following her into the kitchen.

"Hello Professor McGonagall," the girl greeted her politely.

Minerva saw the changes immediate. She was very thin and had dark circles under the eyes, but the biggest giveaway was the lack of interest or curiosity in her eyes. Hermione had always been incredibly observant, curious, and willing to question anyone.

"Have a seat dear," Molly encouraged, pulling a chair out for her.

"Hermione, we know about the time turner," Minerva explained.

The girls shocked look in response was the first sign of emotion she'd shown all summer.

"You're not in trouble," Molly assured her.

"We think that you are suffering from time travel addiction and the withdrawal symptoms of no longer being able to partake in your addiction," Minerva added gently.

Hermione sat quietly, not responding to any of the information.

"I'd like to take you to the Addiction Ward at St. Mungos. They are skilled in the treatment of all sorts of magical and muggle addictions. They'll be able to help you get back to your normal self again," Minerva explained. "Would that be okay?"

"Okay," Hermione responded, more automatic than anything.

A quick floo trip later they stood in the addiction ward. Nurses sat down with Minerva and the young witch. The discussed the problems Hermione had been having and talked through a plan to get her back on her feet. The plan included a range of potions to boost and encourage health, therapy, and an activity schedule.

They started her out on nutrient potions and small liquid meals. She struggled with bouts of nausea the first few days, but quickly progressed to larger meals with no episodes of vomiting.

Once they got Hermione eating again, the increased her daily activity. While not really big into exercise originally, she found that a healthy exercise routine to build muscle helped reduce the irritation cause by no longer time traveling. The small gym worked well and one of the nurses had started teaching her some basic muggle self-defense. Even though she spent a good deal of her days exercising and working with a councilor, she still had some extra time, which she spent devouring books on healing magics she had managed to bum off the spell damage ward.

It had only taken a week to start to feel normal again. Once she started eating again and the essential nutrients and vitamins levels in her body had stabilized, her energy had returned. After three weeks, they had deemed her good to return to the Burrow. They had reminded her time and time again that she wasn't cured, but that she had the tools to cope now. The nurses and councilors of the ward had also taught her to look for warning signs of relapse for the depression and anxiety and got her to promise she would return if she needed it.

Back home at the Burrow, nothing had changed. Molly had explained it away as her visiting with a long-lost grandparent, leaving it up to Hermione to decide if she wanted to tell them herself. For the time being, she had chosen to keep it to herself. Besides, the Weasleys were too revved up for the impending World Cup to notice much.

December 16, 1994

Hermione marveled at the interior of the great hall as she arrived for the Yule Ball, unaware of her classmates gawking at her. Magic had transformed the hall into a spectacular ice castle. The floor was as smooth and crystal clear as a frozen lake, while massive, glistening icicles hung from the ceiling, charmed to stay in place. Several ginormous pines had been brought in from the Forbidden Forest and were decked out in ornaments, each representing one of the four houses of Hogwarts and one each for Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. A magical snow had settled in a pristine layer amount the branches of the trees. Despite the snowy atmosphere however, the hall was pleasantly warm.

Tearing her gaze from the decorations, she caught the dazed looks of Harry and Ron, both acting as if they had just realized for the first time that she was a girl. She had found a spell to help tame her hair, the usually bushy mess falling in gentle waves around her shoulders. The lacy layers of her dress fell around her, alternating in blue and purple, creating a soft periwinkle color. At Ginny's insistence, she had applied a little bit of make-up. Apparently, that was all it had taken to send the while hall into whispers of disbelief.

Thankfully, it wasn't long until her gaze landed on her date for the night. Victor Krum cut an impressive figure in his red robes with fur trim. He smiled broadly at her and bowed slightly as he stood before her. It was only moments later that the students had been called to order and the champions herded to the middle of the dance floor with their dates.

The music started and Victor led her across the crystalline floor with a grace that surprised her. Despite being a supreme flier, Victor often seemed awkward on land, though Hermione was thankful that did not extend to his dancing.

After the first few minutes of the song, others joined in the dance. Dumbledore escorted Madam Maxine onto the dance floor, leading the charge. Shortly after Neville and Ginny had joined and then the hall was full of couples dancing. After having danced with Victor for a while, Harry had cut in, wanting to dance with his friend and at least try and enjoy the ball. While not anywhere near as graceful as Krum, Harry wasn't terrible. He had only stepped on her feet once, making Hermione thankful that she had given in and practiced with him some. She had coaxed Ron into dancing with her next and instantly had regretted it as he stumbled across the dance floor, almost causing her to twist her ankle. Luckily for her, George cut in, rescuing her from his clumsy younger brother. Finally, she was spun around the hall with Fred before begging off to get a drink.

Victor had met up with a few of his friends while she had danced with the men, she considered brothers. From her place at the drinks table, she surveyed the crowd while she sipped her pumpkin juice. Fred and George had gone back to their dates, though switching partners seamlessly and often enough it was hard to tell who was with who. Dumbledore had just finished dancing with Professor McGonagall and was dragging Professor Sprout into the floor. Ginny waved enthusiastically at Hermione as she danced with Harry for the moment, though Neville was moving to intercept.

Then Hermione's eyes landed on Professor Snape, standing on his own to the side of the dance floor, looking almost sad. He was watching her and their gaze locked for a moment across the room before he looked away. She suddenly felt her body tugging her ever so gently in his direction and her mind wondered if he'd like to dance. At first, she just shook her head and smiled, thinking she was being silly and that someone must have spiked the pumpkin juice. It wasn't long though before she was skirting the dance floor towards the tall, dark professor, thinking it rude that no one seemed inclined to dance with him.

"Good evening, Professor," Hermione greeted, smiling up at him.

"Miss Granger," he acknowledged with a nod, avoiding her gaze.

"Would you care to dance, Professor Snape?" She asked sweetly.

"That would be inappropriate, Miss Granger," Snape declared.

"What is inappropriate about a dance Professor?" She inquired. "And it can't be just because you're a teacher. Fred and George both escorted Professor McGonagall around the dance floor earlier."

While Severus took a minute to come up with some kind of rebuttal, Hermione listened to the strong urge and simply took his hand, pulling him out in the floor with her. Since his options were to either dance with Hermione or make a scene, Severus adjusted the positioning of his hands and took the lead, waltzing her around the room. Hermione gasped in surprise at the seamless and sudden change in control.

"You are a wonderful dancer, Professor Snape," she praised him. "It's a crime for you to be hiding in corners."

Severus couldn't help, but catch her eyes and feel like he was falling into their depths. She smiled at him and he melted. He wanted to pull her into him, hold her close and never let her go. But she wasn't his Hermione, not yet. He uncomfortably cleared his throat.

"Yes, everyone is lining up to dance with the greasy dungeon bat," he sneered.

"Well, they are missing out, which works out just fine because I get to enjoy you all myself," she retorted.

He couldn't tell if she was teasing him or flirting with him, though he suspected the former. Pushing it from his mind though, he forced himself to simply enjoy the dance and her company. It had been so long, his body ached for his Hermione, just to hold her close. Even though it wasn't quiet his witch, he enjoyed the easy companionship and innocent touches.

In the corner of the room, Minerva watched as Severus led Hermione across the dance floor, with a wide smile on her face. Hermione's body seemed to remember dancing, even if her mind had forgotten, and she moved gracefully. The wizard stiff and formal, he was torn between enjoying himself and reminding himself that she didn't remember him yet.

Minerva had to give herself the credit for Severus' skill, since he had been awkward and clumsy before she's forced him into lessons before the wedding. Smiling, the older witch remembered another ball from many years before.

October 31, 1973

"I can't believe he finally asked me, mum," Hermione said, sitting at the vanity in Minerva's chambers. "It took him long enough that I thought I was going to have to ask him myself."

"Go easy on the poor boy, my dear. You know how hard his life has been. He had loads of talent, but not a ton of confidence," Minerva explained, running a brush through the girl's bushy mane.

Hermione got frustrated as the brush caught on another tangle and pulled her wand from her sleeve, quickly spelling the mass into submission.

"Kill joy," Minerva muttered. "You know I love your hair natural."

"I know, but Lily is coming to get me in half an hour, to walk down to the hall together."

"Fine," the older witch conceded, running the brush gently through the now wavy hair, before pulling roughly half of it back into a low pony tail, letting the rest hang free.

"And I know all that about Severus, which I why I didn't march up to him on the day Professor Dumbledore announced the ball and asked him," Hermione explained. "I had to suffer through Black asking me to the dance because I waited! I suffered through detention!"

"Which you earned," Minerva told her sternly. "It would be wise not to remind me of these things or you might not be going to the dance."

"It was just an engorgio," Hermione muttered, disappearing into the closet for her dress

"On his tongue! The poor boy couldn't speak and nearly passed out," Minerva scolded.

"Well, he deserved it."

"Enough. Peace child," Minerva pleaded. "Let us just enjoy the night ahead. You have a sharp, talented, savvy young man on your arm tonight! Now let me see you!"

Hermione stepped out of the closet, sporting a sleeve-less, floor length, emerald green dress robes, with a moderately low back. While she had grown into a young woman quite rapidly over the summer, the dress made her look quite a bit older.

"Oh, my dear, you look amazing," Minerva gushed. "Not that I approve of Slytherin green, but that boy won't know what hit him."

Hermione blushed and was saved from coming up with a response by a knock at the door. The younger witch rushed to answer it, revealing the young, red-headed Gryffindor in deep, wine-red dress robes with three-quarter length sleeves and a lacy skirt.

"Oh, Mione! You look amazing," Lily greet her. "Hello Professor."

"Miss Evans," Minerva greeted. "You look splendid this evening."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Alright girls, have fun. I'll see you down in the great hall in a bit," Minerva said, ushering them on their way.

"Thanks mum," Hermione whispered, hugging the older witch briefly before taking off with Lily.

Later on that night, Minerva had watched as her daughter danced with her date, Severus Snape. The fast friendship between the two had seemed odd at first, to the older witch. There was a long-standing rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, which was quickly passed on to the younger students. However, as Minerva had gotten to know, not only Hermione, but also Severus, she could see how well they fit together. Trying to keep up with academic conversations between those two was a mental exercise for some of the older students, easily making them outcasts in their own year. However, the companionship they found in each other seemed to be enough.

Minerva winced as Severus stumbled across the dance floor with her daughter. He wasn't completely hopeless, but it was somewhat painful to watch. Though, the two students smiled widely at each other as they moved across the floor.

The song ended and Severus glided to a stop, bowing slightly to the young witch as he disengaged himself.

"Thank you for dancing with me, Professor," Hermione said earnestly, ignoring the baffled looks of students around her.

"You're welcome, Miss Granger," he said stiffly, before adding quietly, "thank you for asking."

The wizard swept away before she could respond. Smiling softly to herself, she couldn't help but think fondly of the dance with him, however brief. While, other students constantly complained about his class, she simply saw a protective instructor trying to keep students from getting hurt. True, he was a definitely biased towards his Slytherin, but as head of house, why wouldn't he be? In all honesty, Professor McGonagall was biased towards Gryffindor, she was just not a blatantly obvious about it.

Before any of her friends could accost her and question her sanity for dancing with the moody professor, Victor stepped in and swept her into another dance as the music started playing again.

Dark eyes watched from the edge of the room as the Bulgarian stepped back in. He fought the strong surge of jealousy back down, pushing his back against the wall. Severus' hands still tingled from where he had held her and he growled in irritation, fighting the part of himself that argued he shouldn't desire a student like that. His heart however insisted that he wasn't desiring a student, he was desiring his wife, the way she had been before their life had been turned upside down.

The night wore on and the crowd in the great hall dwindled as students headed back to their dormitories and couples snuck off to quieter parts of the castle. Krum led Hermione through two more songs before gently escorting her out of the hall on his arm. The front doors of the castle were still wide open, the icy gardens conjured for the event most likely hiding several couples. The two walked arm and arm across the lawn and down to the lake, where a section had been magically transformed into a small pond for ice skating, a few benches spread about. Earlier in the night, it had been bustling with activity, now, they were the only two out.

They sat down together on one of the benches, watching the Durmstrang ship's sails gently sway in the light breeze. Hermione shivered, provoking Victor to cast a warming charm around them. No words were spoken between the two as she snuggled in close to him. Wrapping an arm around her, Victor leaned in. With his other hand, he gently lifted her face before leaning in and pressing his lips against hers.

Hermione leaned in to the kiss, her body responding to his attentions. The feeling in the back of her mind awake with great urgency. It pushed at her, trying to break to the front of her thoughts, screaming at her. Wrong, it insisted, this is wrong! The witch brushes the feeling aside, assuming it was simply her loyalty to Harry against his competitor. She fought to shut her brain off and just feel, greeting access to her mouth as Krum sought entrance.

The kiss escalated to passionate rapidly, Victor wrapping her tightly in her arms. Before she knew what was happening, he had laid her down on the bench, his rough hand traveling up the outside of her thigh. She had been so distracted, trying to silence her brain and just enjoy herself, she hadn't realized she'd been trapped beneath his heavy weight.

Alarm bells started to go off and she tried to push against him, one hand against his chest, the other attempting to remove the hand from under her dress. Turning her head to the side, she broke the kiss, but he simply buried his face in her neck, kissing and nipping his way along the exposed skin.

"Victor," she said, breathing heavily, "this is too much."

However, he continued, growling against her skin and nipping at her earlobe. Wherever she pushed against him, he pressed harder, his hand pushing further up her thigh, fingers wrapping in the band of her panties. Roughly, he shoved a knee between her legs, pressing hard against her, grinding his prominent erection into her though.

"Victor, no, stop," she told him, her voice raising in panic as she pushed at him.

The older wizard simply pressed his mouth over hers again to silence her. She pressed her lips together and bucked beneath him. Her much smaller hand wrapped around his wrists, one roughly groping her breasts through the dress, the older still pulling at her underwear. The more she pushed away, the harder he fought back, and her heart raced with panic, knowing they were alone by the lake.

He pulled roughly, a loud rip in the eerily quiet night as the fabric of her underwear gave way and he pulled them from her body. His hand pushed between them, closer and closer to her core. Defiantly, she bit down on his lip as he continued to try silencing her with a kiss. Krum growled in rage, blood dripping from his torn lip. Hermione took the momentary freedom and screamed as loud as she could. A massive fist slammed into the left side of her face, shutting her up and dazing her. Taking advantage of the situation, he pulled at the front of her dress, tearing it mostly away from her body, while his other hand still pressed against her core, under the skirt.

One second, her brain was trying to disconnect itself from her body, hopelessness having set in, and then the next, the heavy weight and groping hands were gone.

Krum was thrown through the air with a silent spell from the dark shadow in the night. The Bulgarian wizard landed on the hard ice of the lake with a thud, not moving. Severus Snape watched the boy for a second, making sure he didn't get back up right away, before sweeping over to the young woman on the bench. Her dress was ripped down the front, a large bruise was already blooming on the left side of her face, blood dripping from her lip, and her eyes open, but unfocused.

Pulling his dress robes off, he gently knelt down and wrapped her him them, scooping her up into his arms. She seemed to come back to herself then, pushing, kicking, and clawing. Anything to get away from the definitely male body holding her.

"Easy Miss Granger," Severus said softly. "It's alright now. You're safe. I've got you."

His deep, silky voice soothed her and she settled, recognizing him. Her mind and body agreed with him. Safe, it assured her. Exhaustion overwhelmed her and she sank into his chest, letting that feeling of safety envelope her. Breathing in deeply, she couldn't help but notice that he smelled of pine, woodsmoke, and leather. She could identify at least three potion ingredient scents lingering the background, and her mind worked on that puzzle, avoiding the trauma she had just endured. Severus carried her up to the hospital wing. By the time they had arrived, she determined that he had been brewing pepper-up potion earlier in the day.

Entrusting her safety to Poppy, he briefly explained the situation before storming out, headed to the Headmaster's office. The trip was short and did nothing to cool his temper.

"Victor Krum assaulted Miss Granger just now, and would have raped her had I not arrived in time," Severus explained briefly, before insisting. "I want aurors brought in and charges pressed."

"Calm down Severus," Albus said. "There is no need for all of that. What exactly happened?"

"I followed Mr. Krum and Miss Granger out to the pond. He tried to force himself on her, so I stepped in," Snape growled.

"And how do you know that she wasn't a willing participant?" Dumbledore asked.

Because my wife wouldn't cheat on me, he screamed inside his head. Rationally, he knew Hermione Granger and Hermione Snape were two different people still. He couldn't really blame Hermione Granger for experimenting with boys her age, but it still hurt him more than the cruciatus to sit there and watch her.

"Because willing participants don't say 'no', 'stop', and scream," Severus responded dryly. "Krum also punched her in the face to silence her."

Albus nodded thoughtfully, wandering over to the window and peering out into the darkness.

"I want his head, Albus," the younger wizard demanded.

"You know we can't do that, Severus. We need to maintain a good relationship with Durmstrang. They've produced more than a few dark wizards and we can't risk them choosing the wrong side." Dumbledore explained.

"So, you're just going to ignore it?" Severus asked, his outrage barely contained.

"No. I'll speak to Igor tomorrow. I'll ask that he insist Mr. Krum stay away from Miss Granger for the rest of their time here. In exchange, nothing will be said about the incident."

"So, you're just going to sweep it all under the rug," Severus sneered, "typical."

Dumbledore didn't get another word in before the angry young potion master stormed out of the office.

Clad in his formal dress slacks, long-sleeve while button up, and usual dragon hide boots he departed the castle, blood boiling. All he could see what his witch leaning in to the embrace of another man. After following the pair down to the lake, he had watched for a while. Snape had seen the foreign wizard leaning in and Hermione responding to the kiss. When he couldn't take it anymore, he had left, making his way back up to the castle, the panic in her voice and her scream drawing him back.

Hermione Granger was a fifteen-year-old witch. She was allowed to interact with boys, experience and experiment things of a sexual nature. It was expected. The girls in her dorm in Gryffindor tower probably talked about nothing but sex. He had no reason to blame her for that, since as far as she knew, she had always only been Hermione Granger. She didn't remember.

However, his anger insisted that he didn't have to be held to the saintly standards he had kept so far. She had chosen to leave him, so if she was with other men, why couldn't he be with other women?

Reaching the apparition point outside the gates of Hogwarts, he quickly spun on his heel, and with a loud pop, disappeared. Snape arrived just moments later in a dark alleyway, standing in a puddle of spilled beer. He glared down at his damn boots with disgust before noticing the pool of urine and pile of vomit nearby, and deciding it could have been worse. Emerging from the alley, he stepped onto a mostly empty street, lights only pouring from the doors of a few establishments, the closest of which sounded like it had a full-blown brawl happening. Sneering, he watched as a burly wizard was ejected from the front door. Knockturn Alley really was for the lowest of the low. That night, he felt he fit that description.

Snape stepped over the passed-out wizard and strode down the alley, passing mostly closed and empty businesses. It didn't take long to arrive at a more lit section, home to a few bars, but mostly brothels, the scantily clad women flocking to every single wizard or witch. Severus pushed his way into one of the businesses, shaking off the desperate grasps of most of the women. Once inside, he scanned the room, noticing many couples sat at tables, partaking in acts better suited for private locations.

A tall blonde by the bar caught his attention. Her light hair was cut short, pixie style. Despite short heels, she was almost as tall as he was, with clear blue eyes that pierced him when she caught his gaze. In short, she was the exact opposite of the witch he was trying to forget. Striding up to her, he looked her up and down, not overly caring that she wore little more than a bra and panties.

"How much?" Snape asked.

"15 galleons," she insisted.

Placing the coins on her hand, he held her grasp.

"Somewhere private?" He asked.

The witch nodded, tugging on the hand he still held, leading him up the stairs behind her. Once within one of the upstairs rooms, he pushed her down to her knees in front of him, leaning himself back against the door. The whore tucked the money away before unbuckling the leather belt at his waist, and slipping the buttons of his trousers loose. Pushing his pants and underwear down around his thighs, she pulled his limp cock free.

She arched a judgmental eyebrow up at the simmering wizard. Snarling, he grabbed at her hair, pushing her face into his crotch. She slipped his flaccid member between her lips, suctioning in and out, trying to bring it to life. Severus threw his head back against the door, trying to focus on the feeling of her lips on him. He tried to ignore the image of Hermione popping up in his head, her expression of hurt and disappointment. Growling he opened his eyes, looking down at the blond hair in his hand, thrusting his hips towards her. She sucked harder, her teeth grazing along his cock, her lips pulling, tugging, stoking, trying everything to coax it to life. No matter what she tried, he stayed completely limp.

"You've got to put some effort in too," she snickered.

Disgusted, he pushed her away, pulling his pants back up, throwing the door open, and storming out. He only stopped at the bar downstairs long enough to buy a bottle of fire whiskey. Once outside of the establishments, he apparated, dropping himself in the snow, outside of the castle gates. Growling in annoyance, he entered the grounds and made his way back across the lawn. By the time he reached the castle, the cold and the walk had sapped away the anger, leaving only disappointment, guilt, and loneliness.

Changing direction, he headed up the stairs, towards the seventh floor. Two corridors over from the fat lady, Severus knocked on a solid wooden door with a lion's head metal knocker. The door opened moments later, the older witch seeing the dejected look on his face and full bottle of alcohol in his hands, and ushered him in. Steering him to the couch, she sat him down and he soon found himself wrapped in a warm tartan blanket, with the fire blazing in front of him. Minerva sat in the chair by the sofa, silently waiting. She didn't try to take the bottle, she didn't speak. She waited for him to make the first move.

Sighing heavily, he set the bottle of fire whiskey on the table in front of the couch, then buried his face in his hands. The deep choking breaths gave away his sobs, but still Minerva just waited. When he lifted his face, the red rims and damp eyelids gave him away, but he was better composed.

"Hermione was attacked by Krum tonight," Severus told her.

"Poppy flooed and told me after she had gotten her taken care of and settled down," Minerva explained.

Severus nodded, his head working up and down as if he was chewing on his next words before spitting them out.

"Albus isn't going to do anything about it," he declared, spitting out the Headmaster's name hatefully.

"I know. I stormed up to his office as well after speaking with Poppy," Minerva growled. "Useless old goat. Playing politics has always been more important than people."

Severus snorted in agreement, ready to wring the old man's throat.

"Have you been drinking?" Minerva asked softly, eyeing the still sealed bottle on the table, not even the slightest bit of judgement in her tone, just concern.

"No," he answered softly, hanging his head. "That is all I bought. I intended to take it back to my chambers, but my feet led me here."

"That's good," Minerva assured him. "So, what happened, my boy? Something is bothering you."

Severus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not sure where to start or if he even really wanted to talk about it with his mother-in-law. However, she'd been his pillar of strength in his lowest. His feet had led him to her for a reason he told himself.

"I had followed her and Krum out by the lake, to keep an eye on her since it was late. She reciprocated," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Everything looked consensual, so I headed back to the castle. I couldn't watch that."

Minerva nodded in understanding. She was a teenage girl, flattered by the attentions of an older boy and at the age where she would be curious. While, this situation with Hermione was painful for Minerva, it was excruciating for him. Realistically, Hermione wasn't being unfaithful to him, since she didn't remember him, but to him, it must feel that way. It was a tangled web that Albus had woven.

"I only turned back when I heard her tell him to stop and then scream. I could have ripped the boy to pieces when I saw him hit her," Severus growled. "Taking care of her was my first priority though."

Severus paused briefly.

"After talking to Albus, my anger at him morphed into anger at her. I know she doesn't remember, but all I could thinking was, how could she do that to me," Severus demanded. "I ended up in Knockturn Alley, at the Gilded Rose."

Minerva simply let him talk and open up to her, knowing that was what he needed. She knew what kind of establishment it was, but didn't feel the need to comment or judge.

"I was just so angry and it felt like the only way I could get back at her," Severus admitted sadly. "I ended up in a room with ... uhm ... one of the women. Nothing really happened. Despite my anger ... I, uh ... couldn't perform."

His face was red with embarrassment from talking about this with not only a colleague and the woman who taught him, but also the adoptive mother of the wife he had attempted to be unfaithful to. However, he knew she wouldn't judge him. If anything, she was the only one that would really understand. The hand she placed on his forearm and gentle squeeze assured him of that.

"So, I stormed out, bought the bottle on the way out and intended to drink myself to oblivion, but I couldn't," Snape explained the last of it quickly. "And here I am."

"I'm glad you came here instead," Minerva assured him, squeezing him arm gently once more. "I know you didn't really want to hurt her. Just like I know she'd never want to hurt you."

Severus nodded.

"I just don't know how she expected me to do this," he complained.

"Yes, well, it's not the first time we've realized this plan was not well thought through. As much as I love that girl, she has a lot to answer for when she comes back to us," Minerva grumbled. "Until then, I think we might just have to settle for fantasies of strangling Albus."

Severus chuckled.

Minerva vanished the bottle of alcohol with a flick of her wand and then snapped her fingers, summoning a Hogwarts elf.

"Tea for us please, Mipsy," Minerva requested, smiling gently at the elf.

With a pop, the little creature was gone, but only for an instant as she popped back in with a tray of tea. She set the tray upon the table, popping out of the room again. Minerva set to making tea for the two of them, handing Severus a cup fixed to his preferences.

"Now, a cup of tea to calm us down, then a good night of sleep," Minerva said. "We have more to deal with tomorrow."

Alright, hope you enjoyed!My apologies if the Hermione/Minerva bits are few and a little clunky. Mother/Daughter relationships are a little foreign to me, so hard to write, but hoping to have more in the future! Still plenty of Hermione/Snape though! My husband/editor accuses me of treating him a bit like a punching bag and I just shrug cause it's how the story comes to me.

Also, thanks for the understanding with the writing time. I'm loving writing this story, but I'm also in love with my little boy and soaking up as much time as I can.

The next chapter will continue with the 4th Year. Thing will likely get worse before they get better, but stick with me! As always, let me know what you think!

JustReader - I fixed the mistakes in the age. She is roughly 15 years old, give or take a few months at this point. Thanks for catching that! As for the trace, we'll just have to see. ;)