This is a bit more dark than I expected, especially compared to the story that's gone before it. It does make me uncomfortable, but I think I saved the former tone by the end of Severus' POV.

It's not graphic darkness, btw

Voldemort had developed a curse to warp the mind. It had started life as his corrupting the base of a pensieve…but that was hardly enough for the Dark Lord. Down through the years, he'd refined it and with it, he could loose his…imagination on anyone he wished. On special occasions —when he was bored— he shared horror after horror. The curse became his favourite torture for muggles.

Severus had witnessed its use. Watched as spell-frozen men, women and children, linked within the maniac's brain, were literally terrified to death. He'd learned the spell to find a counter-curse. To find protection for his own mind.

And, through the curse, the Grangers were about to see their future. Their very dark future.

Severus held their terrified eyes and lifted his wand. He did not look to a nervous Hermione curled up on that large grey couch.

He had no qualms about letting her parents experience the horror they'd avoided through the actions of their daughter. They needed to know. To believe. He suspected that Hermione had caused this schism within them. For their safety, she wanted her parents to forget magic completely. That fierce want had informed her magic. It brought conflict to what the Grangers knew to be true when their real selves resurfaced. Not that he would tell his wife this. She was suffering under enough guilt.

"Meae mentis menti."

The murmured spell cocooned them all in a wreath-like green light, sealed them together and the familiar threaded drop of his thoughts into the coolness of a pensieve washed over him. Only it was not into a memory…but into a world of his devising. Where his thoughts, his soul was king. His mouth quirked upwards. No objectivity here…

The Grangers stood frozen —as they were in real life— before the gates of Hogwarts. It was summer, though a summer in Scotland…so it was damp and raining. He was striving for realism, after all.

"You may speak, but you will not move from my side."

Mr Granger broke into a barrage of insults, Mrs Granger not far behind. Severus could certainly see were Hermione got her infamous temper. That hadn't changed in them.

Severus waved his wand and their flapping mouths were silenced. He lifted an eyebrow. "I control everything. This is my world. Do you understand?" Both jerked a nod and Severus released them.

"What is this place?" Mr Granger glared across the sodden grass to the misty stone and spires of the school.

"That is Hogwarts. Your daughter's home. It is the summer. Three days after Albus Dumbledore's funeral."

A slender form sliced through the mists, determined, fierce, the rain pinging off the Impervius she'd cast on herself. Severus pushed down the surge of pleasure and pride at the younger Hermione's hard expression. Her beaded bag hung at her hip. But he'd changed the past. She'd had a more difficult time hunting for some of the tomes she had secreted within that voluminous bag. A small and simple obstacle. But it had delayed her by a whole day.

Hermione pushed through the gates. Her eyes were hollow and dark, and already weight was slipping from her. She'd been little more than a broken skeleton when he had set eyes on her again, standing in the bright light of the infirmary—

Enough. Now was not the time to dwell on the love he had for his wife. He iced over his thoughts and slipped into the role of the implacable death eater. And with a wave of his hand, chased Hermione's disappearing form into the darkness.

With a crack they appeared on a well-to-do street. A rich, leafy little town somewhere in Hampshire. The air was warm after the persistent drizzle of Scotland, the scent of lavender lingered in the stillness. It was early, before breakfast and they stood on the narrow pavement before a smartly kept and large Edwardian semi.

"Our house…" Mrs Granger murmured, her hand stretching out to the wrought-iron gate.

Hermione was already on the path that led up to red front door, but her confident stride had slowed… Her wand flicked into her hand and she stopped at the high step. The door was ajar, just a crack.

"Shall we?"

Severus waved his hand for them to precede him up the wide path. He knew what awaited them and his own heart was thudding, a rush of sweat slicking his collar. This had seemed a perfect plan…but he hadn't expected the illusion to feel so fucking real.

Her parents tottered ahead of him, Mrs Granger clinging to her husband's arm. Their fractured minds didn't believe that magic was possible, and yet here they were, back in their old house, in the past. Merlin help him. He hoped to hell he brought them back to Hermione in one piece and not irreparably…broken.

Shouts, the clatter of furniture and the crack of spells broke him into a run. He shoved her stilled parents into the hall. Glass and broken frames littered the floor. The front room door, hung off its hinges, the white-painted wood blacked with hexes.

"I have you witch."

Yaxley's low, hard voice stabbed Severus through his heart. He knew the death eater had been sent to Hermione's home and found the house empty. But not today.

Severus pushed the Grangers into the front room.

Yaxley, a brute of wizard, dressed in black with a garish, bronze tie, clutched at Hermione. His wand dug under her jaw, throwing her head back against his chest. He rested his chin on her hair, an unpleasant smile tugging at his mouth. Her wand lay on the floor. Broken in three pieces.

"They're gone. Gone and dead, little girl."

His low growl drew a whimper from her and Severus fought not to kill the bastard where he stood. It wasn't real. His Hermione was safe. Safe. But gods, his heart.

"And you, little mudblood. What should I do with you?" His hand clawed her breast and he drew in an exaggerated breath. "I smell virgin meat. And I'm hungry…"

Mr Granger lurked forward, a scream tearing from him…and crashed into the fireplace. The death eater had disapparated with his prize.

Severus buried his horror and the burning ache to chase the man down. To flay him. Aylmer Yaxley had received the Kiss. Still… No, it wasn't real. His Hermione was safe.

He worked the impassive mask over his features, leaving only a glare for the man collapsed by the fireplace and the woman sobbing on the couch.

"This is the risk she took in coming to you. Alone. Telling no one." Anger burned off him. "She is his toy now and she will beg for death."

"No…" Mr Granger fisted his hands in his hair.

"No?" Severus bit out the single word. "Then Yaxley is not here." He waved his hand and they were in a forest, dank and cold. The thick stink of rotting leaves, of death hung around the campsite. Hermione sat outside a patched old tent, warming her hands on a fire. The heavy chain and locket of Voldemort's horcrux hung from her neck. She was gaunt. Her eyes lost. Bleak.

"Yaxley did not catch her. She fought him and won. But you are still gone. She is broken. Her grief at your loss cost her Ronald Weasley. My colleagues caught him with a killing curse at his brother's wedding. Without a third to wear it, with only she and Harry to share the burden of that foul locket... It is slowly, inexorably pulling her mind apart…and, now watch it shatter."

Hermione muttered to herself and stood, paced, her bony hands on the locket. Fisted around it tight and bloodless. "I can't— I should've— They're alive. I can feel it. I can. I have to go to them."

She lashed the locket into the fire, where flames spat and hissed around it. And ran.

Severus watched her disappear into the trees, his heart tight. He wanted his little witch in his arms, proof that these nightmares that had never come to pass. He glared at her parents, her mother hanging onto her father, her face ghost-white.

Harry Potter burst from the tent and stared at the locket in the flames. He fell to his knees, his head bowed and sobs wracked his thin frame.

"That boy dies. Caught and presented to the Dark Lord by the wizard who now has your daughter. Harry Potter has no chance without Hermione. And with him dead, all hope is gone."

Severus waved his hand, unwilling to step into Malfoy Manor. But he had to give her disbelieving parents their last look at the world Hermione had saved them from.

The image of a dungeon floated there in the forest, dark and foul. A cane tapped down the tunnel, the shimmer of long, white-blond hair catching in golden lamplight. A heavy door creaked open and Lucius Malfoy stood in the cell doorway. His perfect mouth lifted up. "How is my mudblood today?

From the squalid corner, a naked Hermione crawled on her hands and knees. Rail thin, filthy with her wild hair matted she stopped in the centre of the cell. She knelt up on bony knees, but fixed her gaze on Malfoy's polished boots. "Very well, sir." Her voice was cracked and quiet. Broken.

Severus breathed in and out, each fill of his lungs a tight, vicious pain. None of this was real. None of it. His Hermione sat on her parents' couch, waiting for his return. And Lucius Malfoy was in Azkaban. His money hadn't saved him. Not this time. Not with Arthur Weasley as Minister…

Lucius smirked. "You will be very well. The Dark Lord wants you bred again."

He stepped into the cell, slamming the door shut behind him. And, three hard heartbeats later, the screaming started.

Mrs Granger was openly sobbing again. Her husband had fallen to his knees, dragging his wife with him. He was beyond tears.

Severus gritted his teeth and swept the image away to another cell. Larger. Clean. An empty space with a flagstone floor and smooth stone walls. Three wooden doors cut into the windowless room. Another wave of his hand and Severus furnished the room with two heavy benches at waist height.

"Finally, we come to you. And why you were taken."

Severus straightened his shoulders. He was almost done. Thank fuck. The insensitive pair of idiots would realise that their sojourn in Australia —with money and sun and such an easy life— was nothing to what it could have been. Nothing.

"Yes, Hermione was an important friend to Voldemort's greatest enemy…but there was also the fact that she is a brilliant witch. Fiercely intelligent and powerful. And that was of great interest to him. How could two muggles –muggles for generations— produce such a wonder?

His voice dropped, low and hard. "You would not die at the hands of his death eaters. This was always his plan for you."

Two of the doors opened, a bell rang and out of either one shuffled a gaunt, naked figure. Scars, old and silver or puffy and red criss-crossed every inch of their stretched, grey skin.

Mrs Granger had gasped and grabbed at her husband. "Oh god, it's us. Us!"

Witches and wizards, dressed in stark black and their faces cold and impassive, appeared with wands and within moments, the two muggles were lifted and laid on the tables. Wands flashed, spells biting into flesh and bone and making blood flow. No screams followed. But both sets of jaws strained and gaped, their cries of agony silenced.

Severus cleared the image, cleared everything and they stood again on the road leading up to Hogwarts, in the cool mist and rain. Severus breathed in the rich and familiar scent of wet grass and wanted to wipe every foul image form his mind. None of it was real. None. But his arms ached for his little wife. To press his nose into her hair, taste the warmth of her skin. To know that she with him and safe. Safe. Above everything.

Mr and Mrs Granger stared at him. Mr Granger ran a trembling hand over his mouth. "Without us safe, she… And because of her, saving us…?"

"I will break this spell and you will go the bathroom cabinet and take that bloody potion. Is that understood?"

Slowly, Mr Granger nodded. "I…" He glanced at his stricken wife who also nodded, "we will."

"Your daughter risked everything for you. And you derided her. She came to me to ask for a potion to help you recover. To heal the unintentional fracture. And you ignored it and her." Anger coloured his words, driven by fear and the ache to get back to his wife. And how these…people had caused his wife so much pain. "Her first thought was to keep you safe. And she did. When the chance came, she returned for you. And you…" He shook his head. "If it were me, I would've washed my hands of you. Left you to fester in your hate."

Severus drew in a calming breath. Hermione would want a relationship with these people. "But that is not your daughter. She is compassion itself." Some of the weight lifted from his chest. It was over. Over. And he saw some of his relief in their faces too. "Her actions concerning you, her continued safety —and sanity— saved both our worlds."

Mr Granger blinked and Severus frowned. He looked…different. His face had relaxed. Had the sharp shock of an alternate future worked some of its own magic in his soul? Severus could only hope. For Hermione's sake, and —the thought sparked— for his own.

Hermione's mother —yes, there was a change in her too, a looseness to her frame, a brightening to her eyes that were a mirror of Hermione's— fixed her attention on him. Something in the curse had worked in his favour. Had his intent fixed them? He didn't care what it was. He was only glad that it had. He touched their thoughts, a light, brief stroke. The horrors they'd seen was...blurring, but leaving them...intact. As they once were. It seemed he hadn't broken them.

Mrs Granger lifted her eyebrows. "And that's why you did this? For her."

Severus straightened. "No, that is not the reason."

Her eyes narrowed on his left hand. She appeared to be recovering some of her wits. Had she observed the same shadow drawn across her daughter's finger? "What are you to Hermione?"

Here was an opening. How much had they changed? And would they favour a man who had just put them through hell? He'd save Hermione the pain of her inconsiderate parents lashing out at her over her unexpected marriage. And he would follow some of his wife's Gryffindor bluntness. "I am her soul-mate. We are married."

"You're…"

Mrs Granger pressed her hand to her throat. She paused and for a moment Severus could almost feel her thoughts turning over. And if he willed it, he could easily expose them, but the sharing of a nightmare was at an end. And he didn't want to risk his strange cure. He lifted his chin, waiting for the disgust, the censure, after all, he'd just inflicted horrors on them. Now it was their turn.

"She mentioned you, when she came. Said how brilliant you were." Mrs Granger's lips twitched. "That potion of yours. Your service in your…the war. She admired you a great deal." Her head tilted and a warmth sparked there, in her quick smile and in brown eyes that reminded him so much of his Hermione. "Do you care for her, Professor Snape?"

"Severus." His name was out before he realised. "And I love her."

Mr Granger huffed a laugh and ran a trembling hand through his sweat-soaked hair. "Thank god it's not that Ronald chap! What a waste of space he is." His face pinked and he frowned. "He's not dead is he?"

Severus bit down on a bark of laughter. Gods, they were the two halves of Hermione. Her intelligence and compassion in her mother. And her blunt Gryffindor nature in her father. Severus shook his head. "Mr Weasley is fine. His…usual self."

"Poor boy…" And his wife slapped her husband's arm and glared at him. Mr Granger lifted both eyebrows, but his eyes shone. "What?"

Severus drew his wand, the counter-curse already on his lips. "I will end the spell."

"Thank you…Severus." Mrs Granger smiled again. Something more sure. Stronger. "It was awful. Horrible. And...and it's receding, thank god." She shook her head and drew in a calming breath. "But it was needed."

Severus inclined his head. Her parents were a complete surprise to him. Clever and sensible, blunt but accepting. They were…Hermione.

And gods, he wanted his arms around his witch now.

Severus murmured the counter-curse and with a disorienting pull on this flesh they were back in the Granger's stark front room. Another quick flick of his wand, and the couple were unfrozen. They staggered and Severus put out his hands to steady them both.

Mrs Granger jabbed a finger behind her. "Your potion, Professor."

Her husband wrinkled his nose. "I hope it doesn't taste of frogs or beetles."

"Honey…" But before Severus could explain further, they were gone, disappearing into the kitchen and then somewhere off to the left. A door creaked open.

"Severus? It worked…?"

Hermione half rose from the couch, but Severus was already striding towards her, his heart in his throat. No other thought in his head but that he loved his witch.

"Severus…?"

Her silent husband dropped onto the couch, dragged her onto his lap and buried his face in her hair. For a long moment, he only breathed, but then his pained, "You're here. You're safe" broke through.

His desperate words burned against her skin, his arms wrapping so tightly around her that it was almost a deep ache to her bones. "Severus…?"

He exhaled against her neck and a shiver ran through her. "I showed them." Another squeeze and she groaned, before he released her with a half smile. He brushed her wild hair from her face, seeming to track every inch of her with his eyes. "I created a place, a time within my mind, where you didn't perform the memory charm."

Hermione struggled back from him. She stared at him. His eyes, something lost and bleak moved through them. Oh Merlin, he'd likely scared her parents half to death. "You…"

His jaw tightened and a hint of red touched his cheeks. His voice was firm. Sure. "I showed them a truth, Hermione." He stroked her cheek, his gaze fixed on the slow slide of his fingers. "And they will not forget it. Though the images I showed them are fading, the feeling will stay with them, I believe. They accepted it." His eyes held hers and the bleakness retreated, to be replaced with a glimpse of humour. "And us."

Hermione gaped. "You told them." She wagged a finger from him to her. "About…" She squeaked. Her pulse pounded…but he was smiling. "What…?"

"They were also thankful it wasn't Ron."

She half snorted a laugh.

"Hermione?"

Her mother stood nervously beside her father to the left of the fireplace, her hands in a tight, bloodless knot. There was something in her eyes, something old and familiar… "Mum?"

Cecilly Granger's lips pressed together and tears slipped onto her cheeks. She opened her arms.

Hermione broke from Severus' loose hold and practically leapt into her mother's arms. "Mum…" She choked out the word. And then her father wrapped his arms around both of them and Hermione's chest ached with the joy of it. Tears and laughter swept over her.

She pulled back and grabbed about for Severus' hand. She grinned at him, something wild and free. Gods, she loved the man. He had suffered to give her this. He was simply…incredible "I believe you've met my husband."

Her dad untangled himself with a laugh and held out his hand. "A pleasure to met you, in the flesh as it were. My name's David Granger." The two best men in Hermione's life shook hands, Severus, from this expression, still slightly bemused by the sudden display of Granger emotion.

But her father's smile was open and honest. "Welcome to the family, Severus. We're glad to have you."

Still not sure about this chapter...but there it is ;-)

Only the epilogue to go! Back in week.