Chapter Nine – Hello

Has no one told you she's not breathing?

Weeks passed before Severus heard from Hermione again, but he knew it was for the best. He spent his time fine tuning his potion, testing it out over and over again until it was perfect. The day he'd set aside to use it, however, was not. That morning, as he prepared to go down for breakfast, lest Minerva scold him again, a knock came at the door. It was soft, and for a moment, he thought he'd imagined it.

"Hello?" said a voice from the other side.

He crossed the room to open it and was met with the sight of Hermione once more. Her eyes were focused on the floor, and she was wringing her hands.

"Yes?" he said, perplexed at her appearance. It was both painful and wonderful, seeing her again.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she began, her once exuberant confidence now seemingly lost, "But I had nowhere else to go. I came here to ask for a favor."

"Go on," he replied, wondering what she could need from him.

"Can I use your Pensieve? I won't take too long, and then I'll get out of your way. I know I could have used one at the Ministry, but . . . can I come in and explain?"

He nodded, and held the door open for her.

"I have the information you want," she said as she entered. "I'll tell you about the woman as soon as I use your Pensieve, if you'll let me."

"I was just preparing to leave for the Great Hall. Can I trust you to use it in my absence?"

"Of course, Severus. You know I can I be trusted," she said.

"I'll retrieve it for you, then. And when I return, we can discuss the details."

"Thank you," she said, smiling sadly.

He left her then, and made his way to the Great Hall reluctantly, the discussion they'd soon be having weighing on his mind. After all this time, he'd finally be able to learn more about the woman who had saved his life. He'd tried, in vain, to find another source of information, but he kept being lead back to Hermione. Somehow, she was the only one who seemed to know anything about her.

There had been one other lead, but it had ended abruptly. Her memorial said she'd died saving other lives, but so far, he hadn't been able to find anyone she'd allegedly saved. In fact, it had been Potter that ended his search. He'd heard Severus and Minerva discussing it, and of course, decided to intrude. He said that no one had known who she was, and that everyone wondered who had written her memorial. No one remembered her. Minerva confirmed it, which made him all the more curious about Hermione's connection to her, and why she hadn't told anyone about it.

Breakfast was painstakingly slow, of course. He tried to get away numerous times, unsuccessfully. Finally, when he was able to get away from the madness of breakfast-time with two of the world's most irritating Gryffindors, he made his way back to his rooms.

Hermione was there, still immersed in the Pensieve. He patiently waited for her to finish, ready to begin the interrogation. But when she surfaced, the look on her face stopped him. She stared at him, eyes wide.

"What is it?" he asked. She was pale, and began shaking. He reached a hand out to steady her.

"I—I'm fine," she said. "Thank you for the use of your Pensieve."

"I hope you were able to accomplish whatever it was you needed it for," he replied.

"Yes . . ."

"And now, on the matter of—"

"The woman who saved your life," Hermione quickly responded.

"How did you . . . ?"

"It isn't important," she said, with a wave of her hand.

"It damn well is important!" he said, tired of hearing that. "How do you know she saved me? What is your connection to her?"

"She also saved me," Hermione replied. "She took a curse for me, no one else. I was the one who wrote her memorial. I don't know why I lied about it, except for the fact that I didn't want to be singled out as the one person she died to save. I didn't think I was worth it."

Severus stared at her. "Of course you were worth it," he said quietly. How could she ever think otherwise?

"Well, it doesn't matter," she said absentmindedly.

"How does it not matter? You and I are the only people to have any sort of contact with this woman. No one else knows anything about her."

"I know. She made sure of that . . ."

"And she made sure to save our lives. She wanted us to live. But why?"

Hermione was shaken out of her reverie. The question remained unanswered, however.

"I have to go," she said suddenly.

Severus shook his head. "We haven't finished our discussion," he said firmly.

"For now, we have," she retorted. "I'm sorry; I need to clear my head. I'll come back soon."

She hurried out the door before Severus could object.

Hours later, she still hadn't returned. Severus grew worried, wondering where she could have gone, and why she had left so abruptly, but he didn't chance leaving his rooms in case she came back, like she'd promised. She hadn't seemed frightened by whatever she'd seen in the Pensieve; she'd seemed numb, as if in disbelief. He didn't know what she had seen to make her react that way, but he had a feeling it had to do with what they'd been discussing.

Finally, late that evening, he couldn't stand it anymore. He put on his cloak and made his way out of the castle. With no idea where to look first, he made his way to the memorial, in hopes that the unmarked grave would somehow give him inspiration as to where to find her.

It was dark as he padded across the sloping lawns, so he cast a Lumos to light his way. The wand shone brightly in the night, casting shadows across the little graveyard. He made his way to the woman's grave, expecting nothing. But when he got there, he saw a figure slumped over on the ground. It was Hermione, and she appeared to be sleeping, but as he stood over her, she stirred. He looked down at her, and as she looked up, he noticed tear tracks covering her cheeks.

"Oh no!" she said, voice shaking, "I haven't missed it, have I?"

"Missed what?" he inquired.

She took a moment to collect her thoughts before answering. "Nothing," she said. "I was dreaming, that's all. I was confused."

"Have you been here all this time?"

"Yes," she replied, voice thick with emotion. "I've been making peace."

"With what?"

"With myself. Severus, there's something I need to tell you."

Finally, he thought. He'd been waiting for answers far too long.

"I know who she is," she said, still sitting. "Will you sit down here with me?"

Reluctantly, he agreed. He didn't particularly like sitting on the ground, but at this point he was almost certain he'd do anything to hear what she had to say.

As he sat down next to her, he noticed that her hand gave an odd sort of twitch, moving closer to him. "Who is she?"

"Let me show you," she said, pulling out her wand.

She pointed it to her face, and slowly her features changed to match the woman who had saved their lives.

"What is this?" he asked, "Some sort of Polyjuice spell?"

"Actually, yes," she said, "It's something we all learn as Unspeakables. Much more convenient than toting around vials of potion, not to mention bits of the person we want to change into. Especially when we need to be discreet."

"So you can mirror the woman's appearance," he said. "That still doesn't tell me who she is."

"I know. I'll explain a little better," she replied, using her wand to change back into herself. "Before she saved me, the woman gave me a vial of memories. That's why I needed to use your Pensieve, and that's how I know she saved you. She showed me."

"Why?"

"I'll explain that, too. You see, it was days after Voldemort's defeat that she saved me. I was here, on the grounds, helping restore the castle. A lot of people were. She must have been following me, because she cornered me one day, the only day I was actually alone. Most other days I was with Ron or Harry, but that day I wasn't. She told me that it was of utmost importance that I follow her instructions. At first, I didn't know what to think, but then I could feel the honesty behind her words. She begged for me to listen to her story, and I did."

Severus listened carefully, not wanting to miss a word.

"She told me that she needed my help—that she needed to save someone she loved, and I was the only one that could, and that's when she gave me the memories. She told me not to view them until it was the right time . . . she said the right time would be when I met someone who wanted to know more about her."

She paused, taking a deep breath, then continued.

"So, after years had passed with no one interested in her, or even knowing who she was, I soon began to forget about the memories. But I always carried them with me, just in case. Then one day, out of nowhere, you showed up asking about her. I couldn't believe it, and I was scared. It had suddenly all become so real, and so that's why I put off telling you about her. I wasn't ready."

"So you met with me each week, just to procrastinate what you'd promised to do?"

Hermione blushed. "At first, yes. But the weeks seemed to fly by and soon I was unable to stop myself. I looked forward to our weekly meetings. They were all I began to think about."

Severus sent her a quizzical look. She couldn't really mean that.

"And then everything changed, the night we visited the bookshop," she said. "You became withdrawn, and I thought I'd done something to offend you. You don't know how much it hurt to stay away from you."

Severus disagreed. He did know how very much it hurt to stay away from her, though he couldn't believe she felt the same.

"So after weeks of denial, I finally conceded that it was time to view the memories, and it's a good thing I did. I used your Pensieve because I honestly just wanted to see you again, and I knew that we needed to have this conversation when I was finished with them."

"What did you see?" he asked.

"Exactly what I expected."

"Which was . . . ?"

"You dying, the woman saving you . . ."

"And why did you expect to see that?"

"Because by the time I decided to watch them, I'd already figured it out. Don't you see, Severus? It was me. I'm the woman who saved you."

The impact of her words seemed to hit them at the same time. Hermione had already figured it out, of course, but now it was real, for both of them. The irony of it all mocked them; she had died because she saved him, and now Hermione was sitting over her own decaying body, and Severus was unable to do anything to stop it.

"What did you use? Or rather, what will you use?"

"This," she replied, pulling a chain out from beneath her robes. "I've been working on it for years now, but it's finally ready."

"A time-turner?" he said, astonished. He'd never heard of a time-turner going back more than a few hours.

"Yes, a time-turner. It's been my project for the Department of Mysteries; it's a time-turner that can go back years with a few turns. I told you I'd been repairing something that had been broken years ago. The night we broke into the Ministry, when Sirius died, we broke all of the time-turners. It's taken this long to fix them, plus enhancing this one."

"So you . . .?" he began.

"Yes. I have to go back in time, to save you. And then, I will die."

The words stabbed Severus over and over, cutting deep. "No," he said resolutely. "You're not going."

"I have to do it," she replied. "I'm all ready. I've got a strong antivenin and several other healing potions."

"Where did you get them in such short notice?" he asked.

"I bought them last week, after I'd begun to really suspect what I'd see in the memories. I wanted to be ready at any moment."

"You think of everything," he said quietly.

"I always do . . . I always have to be prepared, and now I'm prepared to do this. I'm scared, Severus, but if I don't, we create a major paradox. Because if I don't, then you won't be saved, and you wouldn't be sitting here discussing this with me."

He knew she was right, but he still didn't want her to go. He couldn't just send her off to her death. Not now, not ever. Because deep down, even though he didn't want to admit it, he didn't just need her. No, deep down, and with every piece of him, he loved her.

"Here," she said, handing him a vial. "These are the memories. Watch them tonight, after I go."

"You can't go tonight!" he exclaimed.

"I can't wait any longer," she said. "I have to leave tonight. Don't you know what day it is?"

Of course he did. It was the first of May; the night Voldemort had taken over Hogwarts twelve years ago, and was finally defeated the following morning. It was the night before his own 'death' as well, which meant that she did have to go now, or wait another year, if her time-turner worked like he thought it did. "I will not let you do this."

"It isn't up for discussion, Severus. I have to do this."

"I know," he said sourly. He knew she had to uphold her duty; it was just who she was. Not to mention that if she didn't, the consequences would be catastrophic.

She stood, and he followed her lead. She wrapped her cloak around herself—the blue one he remembered the woman wearing—then pulled out her wand, transforming her features once more. Before him stood the woman who had saved him, shivering in the cool wind.

She reached up and touched his face with one hand, then the other. She held his cheeks between her palms and looked up at him. "I have to go now," she said.

All he could do was stare right back into her now blue eyes. He wasn't about to acknowledge that she was marching off into battle, never to return.

"Severus, promise me something."

Anything, he thought. "Yes?" he said.

"Promise me you'll live a long, happy life."

"You can't really expect me to promise such a —"

"Yes, I can." She began crying once more. "Please, Severus. Just promise me."

"I promise," he said, sighing.

She nodded, sniffling. "Goodbye, Severus."

She let go of his face, then reached for the necklace again, then began turning it. It took all his strength not to stop her.

And then, she was gone, and Severus was left with nothing but the empty space in front of him where she'd just been, and the words they'd both left unspoken.

I love you.