Chapter 3

Hermione released a slow breath. Despite her confidence in what was hidden in the drawer, she never thought she'd see one of those again. "Merlin's staff. And Verity is her name?" She breathed the idiom out quietly, and then turned to confirm with Snape the information that had actually opened the compartment.

"Yes," he answered without looking at her, though they were standing close enough that she could detect a hint of musk coming from his clothes. Snape was staring at the Time-Turner as though it was his first time seeing one. Hermione wondered whether or not that actually was the case. It struck her as strange if she, as a third year, had been granted access to something that her own highly skilled professor had never seen until now.

"If I may?" she said softly, and reached passed Snape to pick up the Time-Turner. "We need to decide how we're going to use the next hour or so to prepare. The Time-Turner will at most take us back one week."

Snape straightened and nodded. "And Verity is apparently the turning point. The best course of action would be to stop her from hexing the Muggle outside that club, as I am not about to get involved in anyone's love life."

Distaste at the idea made Hermione's nose crinkle in agreement. It would have to be the club. Hermione wasn't sure she even remembered which one it had occurred at. They'd have to get their hands on an older newspaper or an Auror report. With ease, though it had been eight years since she'd worn her own, Hermione slipped the Time-Turner on and tucked it under her robes.

"What was so important in the archives?" Snape asked.

"Oh, I have that with me." Hermione hadn't been so angry with Snape's pickpocketing that she hadn't duplicated, shrunk, and taken the parchment with her. "There's a link between the Muggle Regulation proposal we received today and an old proposal during Minister Leach's term. Though," Hermione admitted, "I haven't actually had time to go through and compare the two."

"Do you think this link is what led to his death?"

"Possibly." Hermione bit her bottom lip before continuing. "If Nobby recognized something and went down to the archives to compare—why would he have even run into anyone who meant him harm?"

"It depends on what he knew. The sooner those proposals get compared, the closer we'll be to answers. We also need to determine the exact time Verity was at the club so we can send ourselves back with enough time to prepare."

"Do you know her well, sir?"

Snape noticeably stiffened, which made Hermione realize just how relaxed his posture had become. "She was a student. Her older sister was a colleague."

Hermione finally made the connection between her old Muggle Studies professor and Verity. She didn't know what to say other than, "Oh."

Snape turned to leave. "We should go before your friends arrive."

"Yes." Hermione frowned. "I'm actually surprised they haven't shown up by now."

"Disappointing, but not surprising, Miss Granger." Snape was already heading down the stairs.

"Hmph!" Hermione rushed to follow him out.

"I assume that Potter and Weasley have access to your flat?" Snape had his wand out and he was looking around the rooms of the house.

"Yes, why?"

"Because we don't need to be interrupted." Snape held out his hand, and sighed with resignation. "Come with me."

Hermione put her hand in his, and was immediately squeezed into Side-Along Apparition.

The neighborhood they arrived in made Hermione distinctly uncomfortable. The dilapidated buildings on the street were several decided steps down from the residential neighborhood they had just left. Following Snape, she entered into the last house, which they had Apparated next to. She felt his wards allow her in.

Inside was a living room crowded floor to ceiling with books, and Hermione's natural reaction was to itch to touch them and explore them further. Everything else about the dingy space paled in comparison to the lure of so many books.

"Feel free to have a seat."

Hermione sat on the threadbare couch, and took out from her robes her shrunken copies of the two proposals. After going through a pile of newspapers, Snape selected one and sat in the armchair.

It was incredibly awkward, and Hermione at first kept glancing over at Snape as they both read in silence. But then she got so involved in the research that she didn't notice when he finished what he was reading and began moving about, nor caught the glances he'd been sending her way.

"Are you familiar with Time-Travel, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked up from the line she was underscoring. "Yes, Master Snape."

"And you realize how dangerous what we are about to do together is? And that we will be breaking wizarding law?" Snape crossed his arms as he stood over her.

Hermione nodded. "The fact that we're on the Board would make it especially awkward if we got caught."

"There might not even be a Board if we do this right."

Hermione frowned. "If that's so, then there's no reason for us to be started on this path in the first place. I wouldn't have gone down to the archives and been given Nobby's wand." She rubbed the side of her head, just above the temple.

"Splendid. Should we be caught there's no prestige to fall back on, but no position to embarrass either." Snape turned and paced away.

Lowering her hand, Hermione gave him a wry smile. "You've never struck me as someone who embarrasses easily, Master Snape."

Snape turned on his heel and gave her a mild glare. "Why are you calling me 'Master'?"

"You… oh, future-you asked Ron to. You're no longer a professor, but you've still mastered the art of potions."

"Severuswill be fine."

"Then call me Hermione, please." Hermione doubted she'd easily be able to address him by his first name, but she couldn't help but be extremely flattered that he'd offered. She looked down at the proposals in case her cheeks were turning red.

"Calling me Master makes you sound like a House-Elf."

Hermione's head shot straight up, and this time she was certain her cheeks were red. The amusement on his face didn't help her mood, but it helped her check the rant she'd been about to give. "Getting back on topic," she went with instead, letting her tone and glare express her resentment, "we also have to be very careful, since we'll be spending at least five days in danger of running into people, including our past-selves."

Snape let out a sigh. "We should go someplace unpopulated to use the Time-Turner."

"No need—not exactly. There's a Homenum Revelio built into the device," Hermione explained. "Once we stop turning it, it will find the nearest location from where we are standing that has no people. But it only works for the moment of arrival. Someone could be coming around the corner."

"Well, we shouldn't use it here," Snape said. "I rarely leave my home."

"I have a consistent daily routine. We can go to my place while past-me is at work. I just have to remember any other errands and such I ran the last 6 days."

"Can we go there just to use the Time-Turner without running into your friends?"

Hermione considered. The whole reason they were at Snape's home in the first place was to avoid Harry and Ron showing up at her flat, after all. Though it seemed to her Snape had acted rather impetuously when he'd taken her here. "I think so," she answered. "If they were trying to reach me, they would have sent a Patronus, not be lying in wait at my flat."

"Then by all means." Snape held out his hand.

"Oh," Hermione said, and quickly re-shrunk the proposals. "Yes, let's go."

She grasped Snape's hand within her own, and pulled him into Side-along Apparition, arriving just outside her flat. Using her wand, she set the wards to allow him to pass through with her before unlocking her door with the Muggle key.

She didn't give much thought to her surroundings. It was a basic flat: living room, small kitchen alcove, closets, bedroom, and bathroom. Ok, well, the fact that her living room had one floor-to-ceiling bookcase—which she'd made by magically adding onto a basic bookcase she'd bought at a Muggle store—made her feel a bit proud. She decided to ignore the snort she heard Snape make.

"Let's see," Hermione tapped her lower lip as she thought. "It's almost midnight on Wednesday. The stunt of Verity's was just before midnight on Friday, so that's 120 hours. I worked 8-5 on Friday—I left early because I had plans with Ron, Harry, and Ginny that night. So, we'll need at least another 12 hours if we want time while I'm not here, and to prepare for Muggle-style clubbing… let's do 133 hours."

"That's a tedious amount of turns," Snape commented.

"We have to go at least 120 anyway. Might as well add on another 13."

Snape grunted. "As long as you're not superstitious, fine."

Hermione widened her eyes at Snape. "Are you superstitious, si-Severus?" She stuttered, both over the name and in reaction to his glare.

"Do stop being ridiculous." He gestured toward her chest. "133 turns, starting now, Miss Granger."

"Don't be such a grump." If being treated like a foolish student immediately after committing to his request to address him by his given name was the reaction she was going to get, then there was no point in trying to please this contradictory man. Hermione got out the Time-Turner. "Besides, in Arithmancy, the value of 133 is 7."

"So either we get lucky or there's disaster ahead." Snape's tone didn't improve, but there was something in his eyes.

Hermione stepped closer to him, their robes brushing against each other. "Well, here goes." And in a single swing, she enclosed Snape with herself inside the chain.

==S==S==H==G==

It was daylight in her flat again, some books had been moved around, and there were dishes in the kitchen sink. Hermione stepped aside from Snape after freeing him from the necklace.

"Can you confirm when we are?"

"The dishes in the sink do it for me, actually. I usually clean up after breakfast, but I didn't on Friday."

Snape wasn't so ready to accept. He walked over to the sink. "And what did you have for breakfast on Friday?"

"Goodness, um… cereal and fruit, and a glass of juice. I drank the last of the orange juice I had, which I still haven't replaced."

Snape lifted the glass from the sink, looking inside before sniffing it. "Alright, then." He replaced the glass.

"Oh no…" Hermione moaned as a sudden thought occurred to her.

"What is it?" Snape caught her gaze.

"I cleaned those dishes up when I came back during my lunch hour with Harry. We—" But she was interrupted by the feeling of her wards recognizing her own presence.

"In here," Hermione grabbed Snape and pushed him toward her living room closet. "I haven't been in here in months." There was the sound of a key inserting into the lock.

Together they both flew into the closet, and quickly and quietly as possible shut the door on themselves before the door to the flat opened.

She and Snape were pressed up against each other in the tiny space. Hermione didn't want to cast an Extension Charm and risk revealing their location to her past-self and Harry. Chest to chest, thigh to thigh, Hermione realized that Snape wasn't that much taller than her. His head was only a few inches higher than her own, making it easy enough for him to hiss her mistake and his resentment into her ear. "Thirteen hours."

Hermione pressed a finger to his lips and slowly dropped her hand again, as she'd nearly knocked her elbow against the door on the way up.

"Why did you want to do lunch here, Harry?" Hermione heard her own muffled voice carry from the living room.

"Let's get lunch started first," past-Harry answered.

"Soup and sandwiches alright?"

"More than alright. You know Ginny's going to want fancy food tonight."

Past-Hermione's answer was inaudible, probably because it came from the kitchen alcove.

Snape's breath was tickling the little hairs on her neck. Hermione imagined that her own breath was probably irritating him. If she could smell the musky scent of him before, there was no escaping it now, with her face pressed against his neck and jaw. It was surprisingly pleasant, and Hermione again felt that strange sort of comfort she'd gotten from future-Snape in the archives. Though, technically, she was now with future-Snape again.

Oh no, what did she smell like?

"Hermione," Harry said. "You know you can feel free to share things with me, right?"

"Um, yes, Harry. I know that," past-Hermione answered. "Do you think I'm keeping something from you?"

"No, nothing like that. But don't be afraid to be honest about the way you feel when I tell you what I'm going to tell you, OK?"

"Oh, Harry, what is it?"

Great, just great, Hermione thought. I have to be overhearing this conversation with Snape of all people.

"It's just that you and Ron have been broken up for some time now, and it was awkward for a bit at first, but everything's been like it used to for a while. Only neither of you has been seeing someone else until… until now."

Hermione wasn't certain, but she thought she felt Snape's hand on her hip.

There was silence until Harry pressed on. "And I don't want anyone to get hurt. Hermione, you should know that Ron's started seeing someone, and he'd like to bring her along tonight."

Past-Hermione started laughing. "Oh, Harry, is this what has you all tightly-strung? Thank you for being worried, but it's fine. Ron's needed to find someone for a while now."

The pressure on her hip was slight, and maybe it had been there all along. It was certainly unlikely for Snape to show concern for her about the overheard conversation. But Snape's hand was, without a doubt, on her hip. It made being pressed together so tightly easier, actually.

"You're not upset?"

"Nope."

Her breath against Snape's neck was coming back at her, creating warmth in the space between her mouth and Snape's skin. Similarly, the breath against her own neck was warm as the few loose strands there continued to bounce lightly. With each inhale and exhale she and Snape made, their chests pressed slightly together, in a rise and fall motion normally not noticed. It was hard for Hermione not to notice.

"Well, you can't blame me for being worried. You haven't seen anyone either."

"I'm just discreet, Harry."

A sensation was beginning at the base of Hermione's spine, slowly working its way up her back in little bubbles, and in tingles that were spreading down to her toes. Hermione didn't move. She just kept breathing.

"What? Oh. Anyone serious?"

"Not really, and it has been awhile. But I'm fine."

Hermione's pulse had quickened. She tried to ignore it. To ignore it, and the breath on her neck, the sinew of his neck in front of her mouth, the hand on her hip, the thighs against hers under their layers of robes.

Hermione couldn't believe this was happening. When did Snape go from an untouchable, even unthinkable, former professor and fellow board member to a man? His frame was lean and strong and entirely appealing. And how often had she been pressed against it in the last few hours? Three times? Four? This was happening now? While her past-self and Harry were finishing lunch a few feet away?

Hermione closed her eyes. It had been awhile, and that's all this was. A one-sided reaction to this particular moment of unexpected intimacy with a man who wasn't as physically unattractive as she'd thought. In fact, she'd never even thought about it, so it's not as though she ever found Snape unattractive. She had just never noticed before that he was attractive.

She was certainly noticing now. That was OK. That was biology. And it was also OK to indulge in a moment of acknowledging biology under unusual circumstances like these. So with heat and tingles, Hermione remained as she was, and enjoyed the feeling of Snape's hand on her hip, his chest and thighs pressed against her, his breath on her neck. Though she would never let him know it.

Harry and Hermione's voices saying goodbye came through the door, and Hermione opened her eyes again. She moved her head away from Snape's neck, no longer worried about being overheard. Snape also drew his head back, and in the adjustment to the darkness of the closet, Hermione could tell that he was looking at her face.

When the door abruptly opened, Hermione fell backward onto her living room floor. Harry stood above her, his narrowed brow loosening as his eyes widened.

"What…" Harry said, looking at Hermione clearly as surprised to see her as she was to see him. "What…" he said again when he saw that Snape was also in her closet. Hermione watched Harry's jaw drop, his glance following suit as his head turned back to her. Recognition flared in his eyes, and Harry pointed at the Time-Turner hanging from Hermione's neck. "What?!"

(One)