London. June 1995.
At an upscale restaurant in one of the finer restaurants on an avenue off Diagon Alley, sat Severus Snape. The lanky potions master, teacher of dunderheads at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was troubled. There were always too many things on his mind these days. At the sound of the establishment's door opening, he turned to face the entrance as a woman in an elegant robe was shown to his table. His lips turned up in a small smile.
"Severus! It has been too long. That school up in Scotland is much too far away for my tastes," said the woman, reaching out towards Severus. Rising, he clasped the hands that had been held out to him. "You are the only reason I care to travel this far south, my dear" he said. If the smile on his face was slightly strained, neither was impolite enough to say so. While the waiter took their drink order, Severus studied his date.
Katherine Moreau was a brilliant witch of thirty-two. Though she had been born in Ireland to an Irish mother, her parents had moved to her father's native France during Voldemort's first rise. Five years ago, the alchemy firm that she worked for had sent her to their United Kingdom branch to test latitudinal effects on elemental transfiguration. Katherine was a pureblood, which afforded her entrance into exclusive social circles, yet with one grandparent a muggleborn and another a halfblood, she wasn't any self-respecting blue blood's first choice of bride. She was much too busy to marry anyway, she'd always said, as any true scholar is wont to say before they've properly fallen in love. But when she had bumped into the brilliant, yet halfblooded potions master Severus Snape at the Goyles' summer solstice party, she had acquiesced to his request for a date. Four years later, they still found pleasure sharpening their wits on each other and discussing the cutting edge of magical research. The ten months a year Severus spent in Scotland were good for them, though, no matter what Katherine always said. She was obsessive about her work and valued her alone time. Further, she tended towards the unfortunate pureblood manner of being rather self-important and she tended to look down on those around her. Severus found her disregard for the magical creatures she sometimes used in her tests to be off-putting and her constant need to be right just a little too grating for someone who spent his life teaching.
Tonight, she seemed resigned. At the lull in conversation after they'd finished their main course, she was the one to break the tension that had been mounting. "I can see the strain in your eyes, you know," she said. Taking a fortifying sip of his wine, Severus pulled out his wand, cast muffliato, and looked into the round face and hazel eyes of Katherine Moreau.
"You've heard the news, Katherine," he began. "The Dark Lord has risen. Minister Fudge will be sacked any day now and the borders will be closed soon enough. I am…" here, he paused. He knew he owed Katherine some version of the truth, but Severus wasn't accustomed to being forthright.
Katherine placed her hand on his, and he continued. "I am in the middle of things in a way that is not safe for me and especially not safe for my associates. I will not be able to keep you safe from those who wish you harm. Listen to me, you need to leave Britain."
Katherine picked up her own wine glass and sat back in her chair. Staring at the table where their hands had been moments ago, she gave a sort of strained laugh. "Severus my dear, you have done the hard work for me tonight. When I received your owl last week about meeting so soon after the school had let out, I admit I was worried… you see I was afraid you might ask me stay. But I have no crup in this fight, you understand. I have already sent an owl to headquarters letting them know I'll be transferring back home. I will be surprised if they leave the office here open if this situation devolves. Are you truly as embroiled in this conflict as you say? I am sure there is room for one more potions master in France."
Severus let himself consider the offer, if only for a moment. Steal away with a beautiful, smart witch. Start over where the entire population under 30 didn't view him as their evil potions teacher. Away from homicidal megalomaniacs, away from meddling bosses, away from a certain pain-in-the-arse boy whose eyes made his chest tighten with guilt, away from a certain know-it-all witch who couldn't leave well enough alone… well, that was the other matter he needed to discuss.
With a deep breath, he let go of that wonderful escapist fantasy, and played his last card of the evening.
"I am tempted more than you can imagine by that offer. But there's something else. Last week I met the woman I'm suited to."
Severus didn't miss the momentary look of relief in Katherine's eyes, and he knew he'd done the right thing. It was one thing to play house for 8 weeks of the year, exchange love letters, and spend the very occasional steamy weekend in a hotel room. But it was entirely another thing to emigrate to France for someone. Four years had certainly been long enough to teach them that they would never make a proper go of things.
"I see." Katherine said, with a sigh. "And you must keep her at arm's length too, I imagine. You poor thing." She set down her wine glass, now empty. "When this blows over, I am sure you will make her very happy. You have made me happy, these past years."
"Have I?" He couldn't help asking. Katherine gave him her best snooty look. "If I had not had you around, Severus Snape, I would never have lasted nearly so long in this country. All this terrible rain and cold. And your food! How you live in a country that spices up its food by adding vinegar is quite beyond me."
Despite her attempt at levity, a somber mood crept in. Severus flagged down the waiter, paid the bill, and offered Katherine his hand. Together they left the restaurant and strolled up the alley towards nowhere in particular. Such was the habit of wizards and witches with the power of apparition. The walk back home could be as short or as long as a couple wished it to be.
"I want you to keep in touch, Severus. You are my only good debate partner. And please, stay as safe as you can." She glanced briefly towards his tattoo, obscured for the moment by the sleeve of his robes, but a familiar sight to her. "Maybe magic did not choose us for each other, but I hope you will always be a dear friend of mine."
With a squeeze of his hands, she disappeared with a pop. Severus himself disappeared a moment later, his sole intention to seek out a stiff glass or three of liquor.
Elsewhere in London. June 1995.
On her first night back from Hogwarts, Hermione sat at the kitchen table and observed her parents. Her father was busy chopping vegetables for a salad while her mother tended to the food on the stove. They had always worked so well together, both at home and at their dental practice. They were truly great partners, something she had always admired about them. She was none too eager to spoil their jovial mood.
Martin Granger turned toward Hermione as he grabbed seasonings from the cupboard and placed them next to his wife. "So Hermione, I'm sure I told you about how your mother started a book club. Well, last week they all decided they wanted a bit of trip down memory lane in the form of a children's' book, so your mum suggested Matilda. A bit on the nose, don't you think? A magical child who doesn't quite fit in until she goes off to school. I told her it was outrageous, but you know how she is." He winked at his daughter before resuming his assault on the carrots.
Jean laughed as she started seasoning the pork she was working on. "Well, our dental hygienist Kathy is in my little club and you remember her daughter Charlotte? Kathy has been having a really tough time with her, but she seems awfully tight-lipped about what's going on specifically. Then, she said the funniest thing. She said she thought her new house might be haunted because the lights keep going in and out and a glass just exploded one day. Now Charlotte is five, which is when you were causing lights to flicker and things to break when you were upset. So I just thought she might like the book."
"I can say it's definitely not a ghost," Hermione began, "as they aren't able to affect the corporeal world like that. A poltergeist can, but they usually stick to magical places. Do you really think she could be a witch?"
And so over dinner they discussed birth rates of muggleborns and squibs and the challenges of raising a child with different abilities. As Hermione finished her glass of wine and her parents were halfway through their second, she knew it was time to have a frank discussion.
"Mum, dad, do you remember when I told you about the man who killed Harry's parents? How he was such a terrible wizard that everyone simply referred to him as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who? Well, he was raised from the dead last year. He appears to be set on getting revenge on Harry, since whatever it was that happened on Halloween night in 1981 with Harry is what killed him."
And just like that, the happy and content mood in the house was gone. Martin drained his wine glass, leaned back, and considered his daughter. Jean carefully set down her fork and gave Hermione a piercing look. Hermione took a deep breath and continued. "Last week, he tried to steal something from the Ministry. Something that would strengthen his position. We went to stop him, Harry, Neville, Ron, Ron's sister, a friend of ours named Luna, and myself."
"A bunch of teenagers tried to stop a murderer? What were you thinking?" Her mother looked horrified and a tad angry.
"He had laid a trap. Harry was convinced You-Know-Who had taken his godfather captive and was holding him at the ministry. We couldn't convince Harry otherwise and we certainly couldn't let him go alone. I wrote to you when Dumbledore was removed as headmaster. The deputy headmistress, you remember Professor McGonagall, had been attacked and was still recovering in the hospital."
"It's hard to forget a woman who turned into a cat in your lounge," remarked Martin.
With a small smile, Hermione continued, "So it was just the ministry stooge who was running Hogwarts at the time. As she was part of a ministry campaign to deny the return of You-Know-Who, turning to her was out of the question. Anyway, it turned out it was a trap for Harry, and we were pretty lucky to escape with our lives. Thankfully, before we left, Harry had gotten the message to Professor Snape who was able to tip off Professor Dumbledore about what was happening. Dumbledore works with a vigilante group who showed up and saved us when things were getting dicey. Voldemort escaped but half the ministry arrived at work in time to see him fighting with Harry and Dumbledore so it's no longer a secret that he's back. It's only a matter of time before the Minister for Magic is sacked for trying to downplay his return earlier this year. It's going to be a lot like Ireland for while, only instead of religion they're fighting for my right to exist in their society, and I plan to join that fight. In September I'll be a legal adult in their world."
Her parents exchanged grim looks. After a tense interval, they turned to Hermione and Jean spoke. "It sounds as if you've made your mind up about this."
"I'm not ashamed of where I come from. And I'm smarter than most of the kids at the school, pureblood or otherwise. I can't let them take away the right of people like me, like Kathy's little Charlotte, to learn about magic and make their way in that world."
Martin cleared his voice, "It sounds like your continued friendship with Harry Potter is going to put a target on your back."
"After the battle at the ministry I don't believe there's any way to avoid that, but it's just as much my fight as it is his."
Her mother spoke now, "You're so young, dear. Are you sure you can't put off joining this group until after you've gone to University? As you said, you are exceptionally bright. Perhaps you can fight in a different way—show the how much smarter and dedicated you are than them by getting the best education you can and being successful."
"Mum, I can't tell you how much I want that. But these people would have muggleborns like me killed rather than let me continue to study magic, and now that their leader is back, that might just become the reality if we don't stop it"
"And I don't suppose that we can threaten to keep you here?" Martin asked, a small note of desperation in his voice. "We could stop paying for your education at Hogwarts." They all knew the threat was futile. When Hermione Granger set her mind to something, they all knew there was no stopping her.
Hermione's heart caught in her throat and she responded to what he was really saying. "I love you too, dad. And you, mum. And I know you just want what's best for me. You've always taught me to stand up for what's right. Grandpa joined the fight against the Nazis because he didn't want fascists to take over the world. I'm joining the fight against the Death Eaters—that's You-Know-Who's followers—for the same reason."
She looked her parents in the eyes and saw they had no further arguments. "How about some tea?"
Later that evening, after tea had calmed their emotions and Martin Granger had gone on to rant about the current affairs being debated in Parliament, Hermione sat in the back garden, looking up at the few stars you could see in London's sky. It was always striking how different it was than the night sky above Hogwarts, where one could pinpoint every star and the children learned how to name them. Her mother stepped out the door to join her.
"Can I ask you something?" Hermione asked her mother. Jean sat down beside her on the garden bench and placed her arm around her daughter.
"I don't think I've ever been able to stop you asking questions, sweetheart," Jean said with a smile.
"How did you know dad was the right person for you?"
Her mother was quiet for a moment. "We had been seeing each other for a couple years when we attended a wedding together. The bride and groom were both friends of ours and we were having a fabulous time. You know how your father gets after a few drinks—he's just the life of the party. Well there was this older lady there that evening who had mostly kept to herself, and he turned to me and he said, 'Now there's someone who needs to smile,' and off he went. He whisked her away to the dance floor and cracked jokes with her until she couldn't help but laugh. He introduced her to us all and did his very best to make her feel welcome for the whole night. It turned out she was the aunt of the bride and her husband had died a few months prior. This was the first wedding she'd been to without him. Your father sent a whole evening just trying make a stranger smile while his friends were taking shots and having their own fun. That's when I knew that he was the man for me."
Hermione considered this information while she looked up at the sky.
"Is there a particular boy on your mind tonight?"
She turned to look at her mother and found the whole story spilling out.
Hogwarts. Two Weeks Prior.
Hermione regained consciousness in the Hospital Wing, with the day just beginning to dawn. Beautiful golden light lit up the room. Her chest felt like it was tearing apart, however, which put a damper on appreciating the scene. Madam Pomfrey was waving her wand over her while Professor Snape strode up to her bed, a dozen potions trailing after him like so many ducklings. He began by pouring a gloopy, blue potion across her chest, and the tearing sensation started to subside.
"She'll be on a regiment of at least a dozen potions for the next week," he told Madam Pomfrey, and began unstopping the rest of the potions and handing them to her. She drank them obediently and looked around. Ron, Luna, Ginny, and Neville slumbered on in beds near hers. Professor Dumbledore opened the doors and made a beeline towards Professor Snape who turned as if to speak to him. In doing so, his hand brushed against Hermione's while handing her a potion.
His gaze turned to Hermione and their eyes met. She couldn't look away! Never had she been more aware of him, of his lovely dark eyes and his calloused hands and the high cheekbones that matched his aristocratic nose. How had she never before noticed how handsome he was? She had the insane urge to run her hands through the locks of his hair. It occurred to her in a vague sort of way that she couldn't tear her eyes away from him, nor move her hand away from his where their skin touched. She dismissed the thought. Why would she want to stop touching him?
Professor Snape didn't seem very happy, she noted. His eyes had widened and then narrowed. He used his free hand to grab hers, and lent over to place a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. Her cheeks colored as whatever it was that had transfixed her faded away. Professor Snape roughly handed the remaining potion to her, spun around, and billowed out of the Hospital Wing. Professor Dumbledore watched him go with a calculating look.
"Madam Pomfrey, please see to Miss Granger. I think it possible she will have questions." And with that, he strode away after Professor Snape.
Hermione looked helplessly at Madame Pomfrey as she drank the last potion. "What on earth was that?"
Madam Pomfrey gazed back at her with a troubled look. "Your souls are suited for each other, Miss Granger. It happens now and again, that the first time two people touch, magic sees fit to let them know they are perfectly suited for one another. Now I want to see you get some rest. You had a nasty curse to the chest this evening, and as you lot hadn't been to bed before embarking on your foolhardy adventure, you'll need all the energy you can get for healing."
Hermione was just wondering how she could possibly get any sleep after such a revelation when her sense of taste caught up with her mind. The last potion had been a sleeping potion, she noted, as her world faded to black.