DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.
Author's Note:
This story was inspired by the following fics:
1 Pride of Time by Anubis Ankh
2 Since 1970 (by yours truly)
3 And many other Sev-Mione time-travel stories out there
Thanks to Opal Chalice for her wonderful gallery on !
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CHAPTER 1: Avenging Angel
September 1982
The '80s music is extremely pleasant to the ears. The best, Hermione Jean Granger decided while she was doing some paperwork and listening to the wireless in her small cubicle in the Potions Department Office. I guess I was born into the right generation. Too bad, I wasn't into music before and during my Hogwarts years.
She remembered having appreciated music when she, Harry, and Ron were on the run. No other friends to talk to, no classes to attend, and almost no food to eat, music was her solace, especially when she just wanted to sleep because she didn't want to feel hungry.
The wireless was currently playing a love song. She wasn't a fan of love songs, but the saxophone, piano, and bass were comforting in her ears. It was just a quarter after two, and so far, their office was quiet. Her colleagues were busy at their own desks, either reviewing patients' cases, doing research, or in Alona Goldstein's case, perusing her latest copy of the fashion magazine.
One more thing Hermione liked about the '80s was the fashion style. She was a trousers girl, and she loved those high-waisted denim trousers, but she also had a penchant for knee-length modest dresses.
"There's a delivery…"
Several witches in green robes with a logo on the left breast – a cauldron and two wands above it – looked up from their desks. There was a young wizard by the entrance to the Potions Department Office whom they could not see the face of because of the huge bouquet he was holding. It was a combination of Ecuadorian roses, dianthus, and eucalyptus. All of them were pink and white, and wrapped in a powder blue paper.
"For Miss Hermione Puckle."
Hermione's mouth formed a small 'o', and her eyes widened. Apparently, she wasn't the only one surprised.
"That is huge!" said one of her fellow Potions assistants, Martha Ollivander.
"Blimey! The wizard is serious, Miss Puckle! You have to invite him to dinner to thank him for that monstrous bouquet!" came her department head's voice.
"Told you a million times, Hermione," came her friend Alona's voice, "the bloke's in love with you."
"Miss Puckle, don't punish the hardworking delivery man. Accept the delivery," her superior said.
She got up from her chair and accepted the bouquet. It was big, but it fit on her table. She looked at the card.
Dearest Hermione,
Greetings on your birthday! May you achieve all of your goals.
Sincerely,
Severus
P.S.
The avenging angel still hasn't agreed to go out with me. Consequently, I'm still waiting.
She tucked the card back inside the bouquet. The "avenging angel". That was Severus Snape's alias for her because, apparently, she was fighting Death Eaters with her colleagues when there was an attack in Diagon Alley one year ago, two days after she arrived here. Hermione and Alona were purchasing potion-making ingredients at Potions From the North Side in the North Side, Diagon Alley. She and Alone did not hesitate to stun the Death Eaters and protect the shoppers, especially the little children who were present at that time.
Professor Snape – Severus, she reminded herself – was not among them, but he introduced himself two days after the incident when they bumped into each other at the apothecary. As Assistant Potioneers at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Hermione and her colleagues would take turns in visiting Potions From the North Side not only to get fresh potion-making ingredients but make sure they were not tampered with, or damaged, and they were properly sealed. Hence, they never ordered by mail.
She could still remember that day as if it only happened yesterday.
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September 1999
Hermione Jean Granger, 20, coined as "The Brightest Witch of Her Age", war hero, and "Brain of the Golden Trio", could not believe she did something reckless on her supposed first day at work.
After graduating from Hogwarts more than a year after Voldemort was defeated – the Battle of Hogwarts, she reminded herself – she joined the Auror Training with her and Ginny's former classmates. Being a war hero and awardee of Order of Merlin, Second Class, she was offered to skip the two-month program, but she refused because she wanted to learn with her peers and to prove that she wasn't basking in her fame and status.
On her first day as an Auror, she was assigned to investigate at the Department of Mysteries. Apparently, there was an attempted break-in in the Time Room. Hermione interviewed the Unspeakables, and each assigned to every room escorted and guided her.
She was close to solving the puzzle – having figured out that there was an Animagus in the room – an unregistered one. She was about to signal her partner, Unspeakable Marchbanks, to stay still and let him move first when the unregistered Animagus on the wall transformed into a black, hooded figure, and everything went dark. Remembering that on her left side was a shelf of different kinds of time-turners, and on the right was a wall, she still went in the direction of the time-turners. She could not see anything, so she crawled and moved her hands, trying to gasp something. Her hands caught a time-turner on the shelf, and she was knocked over by someone behind her.
"Miss Granger? Merlin! So sorry!"
The apologetic voice of Unspeakable Marchbanks was the last thing she heard before everything around her spun.
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September 1981
After two hours of questions and memory-viewing, Hermione Granger was exhausted. She had been held up in the Department of Mysteries' Head office and was told not to leave. Officer Dagworth, the Department Head, was an old wizard. He was bald and had a white beard, blue eyes like Dumbledore's, and a Patrician nose. He had wrinkles on his forehead, but he looked at her kindly; spoke to her kindly.
The old wizard explained that it might take months for the Unspeakables to finish working on her case. As for how they'd do it, she didn't know. She was not allowed to know. But the department head explained that she had to live her life in 1981 for at least a few months – get a job, find an apartment, but avoid making friends. She was only allowed to contact the Unspeakables and undercovers assigned to her case. She was given fake O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. certifications, as well as a cover story that she was home-schooled by Master Dagworth-Granger, the esteemed British Potions Master, and a cousin of the head of the Department of Mysteries himself.
She shook her head. "I can't believe I'm in the year 1981. How many times did I turn that device? Or was it set for the user to return to 18 years ago?" she groaned.
And then, it hit her – the current month and year. September 1981. Two months before Voldemort's defeat, Harry was still living with his parents. Harry was still sheltered and loved by his parents.
"Please, please. Find me a job where I am not required to speak with anyone," she begged.
The wizard gave her a mournful expression, probably remembering something in her Pensieve memories. "Based on your memories and story, you were excellent at Potions in your time. We could give you a job at St. Mungo's Hospital as an assistant potioneer. The head of the Potions Department and her people seldom leave their workroom and mingle with other employees. You'd be perfect there."
"Thank you," she whispered.
Potions. She silently hoped that she would not cross Professor Severus Snape's way.
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It had been a few days since she started working at the Potions Department of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and two days since the Death Eaters' attack in Diagon Alley. Hermione was fidgeting as she was making her way to the apothecary. She was alone this time, and Aurors keep on patrolling in every corner. Hermione looked down upon seeing young Molly Weasley, holding the twins' hands. They were walking in the direction of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Hermione's heart clenched at the sight of the little twins. Fred and George. Too innocent; too cute. None of them had any idea that they would not grow old together.
A part of her wanted to reach for them; to talk to them; to simply tell them to believe in themselves and that one day, they would own a shop here at Diagon Alley.
However, she could not do that. She was not allowed to do that. Hence, she continued walking to her destination with teary eyes. No, she wasn't weeping, but little tears formed in her eyes, remembering how George looked like after the Final Battle. He lost weight and there were dark circles around his eyes. Ron decided to help him by working at the shop part-time while doing his Auror training.
She was about to enter the shop while she was still wiping her sweat and tears with her handkerchief when she bumped into something solid that was not the door. It was a person wearing navy blue robes and dark trousers. And when she looked up, she met the familiar obsidian eyes of Professor Severus Snape.
He looked young. His hair was oily, and he smelt like sandalwood and ginger. There were traces of healed scars on his face – probably acne marks. His nose was still the same. His eyes weren't cold, and he wasn't scowling. In fact, he looked… gentle. No trace of the strict and dour professor she had of six years. He looked… better.
Merlin, why are you punishing me? Why are you bringing dead people in my way? she wanted to cry in pain, but this was Professor Snape in front of her. She could not give him any hint of recognition. Furthermore, he was – or is a Legilimens, Hermione reminded herself, so she averted her eyes and moved to reach the door.
"Excuse me. May I pass, Professor?" she asked, not meeting his eyes.
In her peripheral vision, she saw Professor Snape nod and offer her a small smile. He opened the door for her and followed her inside.
"Good morning, Mr Abbott," Hermione greeted the shop owner behind the counter politely.
The man nodded at her, then to the one behind her. "Miss Puckle, how may I help you today? Professor Snape, did you forget something?"
"I am still waiting for Laurence to return for my other purchases, but I'm in no rush. Allow yourself plenty of time to help Miss Puckle," Professor Snape said gently.
Whaaat? Gently? Hermione thought as she glanced at the professor, not meeting his eyes but just looking at the corner of his lips. There was a smile there.
When was Professor Snape gentle and smiling? As far as I remember, he was always dour, scowling, and vicious. This is the time when Voldemort is still alive, and the love of his life is married to his nemesis. Why is he so… relaxed?
She leaned on the counter and gave her list to Mr Abbott. "Give me some time to prepare the items, Miss Puckle." Then, the wizard disappeared into the backroom.
Professor Snape leaned at the counter, angling his body to face her. "Miss Puckle. I haven't encountered that name," he said conversationally.
She looked around the shop. "Of course. Didn't go to Hogwarts, Professor Snape."
He eyed her robes. It was green with a logo on the left breast – an embroidery of a cauldron with two crossed wands above. Suddenly, she felt conscious. Would he make fun of my hair? I pulled it in a bun, right? My robes were ironed, and I don't have soot.
The professor smiled widely. "You didn't, but you're a Potioneer at St. Mungo. I believe you either attended a different school or were privately educated by a renowned British potion maker, Master Hector Dagworth-Granger. But you are aware of my name."
She shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. "People talk. You're Hogwarts' new Potions Master."
"Be that as it may, allow me to introduce myself. Severus Snape," he offered his hand.
She decided to be polite and shake his hand. "Hermione Puckle."
But instead of shaking his hand, Severus Snape pressed a firm, yet brief kiss on the back of her palm, causing her knees to feel like jelly.
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"The avenging angel's name is Hermione," he smirked.
The beautiful witch in front of him raised an eyebrow as if challenging him. He wanted to let out peals of laughter because she was too adorable. Furthermore, no one – no witch had ever raised an eyebrow at him and looked at him like that. Apart from his former Transfiguration Professor and now colleague, Minerva McGonagall.
Salazar, she's like a young Minerva the way she looks at me, he mused.
"Avenging angel?"
"Pardon me, my lady. This was not the first time I saw you. Two days had passed since the attack in the alley. You and another St. Mungo employee were fighting the attackers when I arrived pretty late," he explained, but could not tell her that he knew Alona Goldstein. He could not risk it. "Your locks were bouncing, and you appeared to have a halo from the sunlight above you. Your robes appeared to resemble wings due to their billowing. Your colleague was hit, and you avenged her. Hence the alias 'Avenging Angel.'"
Miss Puckle—Hermione, he reminded himself, looked surprised, but she was not gaping. Her brown eyes widened, reminding him of almonds. She composed herself and did not smile. Salazar, this woman is hard to please, so it seems.
"Interesting story, Professor Snape. Thank you for the… humour," she replied formally. No smile.
Hard to please, indeed.
Mr Abbott came back behind the counter, and Hermione got busy examining and casting spells on the potion-making ingredients. Meanwhile, he was still waiting for Mr Abbott's assistant, Laurence, to return because there were not enough salamander eggs. The assistant promised it should only take fifteen minutes. Five minutes ago, he was starting to think it was a waste of time, and that he should just go back to Hogwarts, and owl the shop to deliver the other purchase when he saw her. The angel who brilliantly fought the Death Eaters two days ago. He arrived late because he was teaching. The Dark Lord instructed him to aid his injured brothers. He was wearing a Death Eater mask and robes, of course, so he didn't dare to approach the witch with bouncing brown curls. But there was something in her that intrigued him. For the first time in a while, he felt alive… and so did that thing between his legs.
After what felt like an hour, Laurence came back with the promised salamander eggs. He was very apologetic, and Severus just waved a hand to the younger wizard and returned his attention to Hermione. She still wasn't minding him; not talking to him. Not even glancing in his direction. Did she know that he was a Death Eater? She worked at St. Mungo. As she said earlier, people talked.
Times like this, Severus wished he hadn't been a fool when he was a teenager.
He wished he hadn't been a follower of the Dark Lord.
If he were a normal wizard, not a spy, he would've asked her out.
But maybe, I can.