Chapter One

January 1997

"It's a wonderful morning, isn't it?" Ron asked cheerily, heavily dropping himself and his bag as he sat down for breakfast.

Without looking up from reviewing her half of the week's Ancient Runes homework, Hermione commented, "Well, someone is in a good mood this morning."

"And why shouldn't I be? It's Thursday; we should all be in a good mood."

Giving her a conspiratorial smile behind his bloody coveted potions text, Harry hypothesized, "Lavender must've been game for a quick shag in the broom cupboard this morning."

"That or in the Prefects' bathroom. It was suspiciously occupied for some time when I tried earlier."

"Ha, ha," Ron responded drily, around a mouth full of Cumberland sausage. Pointing his fork up to the head table he haughtily directed, "Look who's missing."

"Yeah, Snape. What of it?" Harry asked, unimpressed. "He's probably getting his rocks off by overseeing some sad sap's early morning detention."

" Harry !" She scolded, swatting the back of his head with her rolled up assignment. "That's extremely disrespectful, even for you."

Leaning in close so as not to be overheard, he whispered, "Careful, Hermione. Wouldn't want anyone to catch on to your undying love for the dungeon bat," resulting in her flicking the side of his neck in rebuke. "Ow! Sorry, I didn't mean it," he backpedaled, rubbing at her assault. "So bloody sensitive, over the wouldbe father of your bat colony, aren't you?"

Narrowing her eyes at him as she readied her fingers for another attack, he raised his hands in surrender, earning her nod of approval before tucking her homework neatly back into her knapsack. Unlike the unfortunate, embarrassing, and all too public crush she had experienced with Professor Lockhart during their second year, her romantic folly over Professor Snape was a closely guarded secret. In the years since it had taken root within her and bloomed into the unattainable fantasy it now was, it had only been exposed three times. And one of those three, there had only been one instance where she had been unable to play off her hidden truth.

The first - technically the second - had been the year prior when they had been waiting for one of the Dumbledore's Army sessions to start and she had been dragged into a game of Fuck, Marry, Kill, by Ginny. Lavender for her turn had thought it would be a laugh to give everyone a selection of professors. With her choices being Professors Lupin, Moody, and Snape, she had tried to reason away her all too quick answer by reminding them that Moody had in fact been Barty Crouch Jr. an obvious choice for Kill. However her logic only worked in securing her a reason as to why she elected to choose between Lupin and Snape for fucking versus marrying. The girls had shared a hearty guffaw at her expense but since she had already wheezed herself into abdominal pain over Parvati choosing Professor Flitqick to fuck over Quirrel and Hagrid, she had taken it in stride knowing they were all equally embarrassed and overly keen to forget their answers.

That same year after they had faced the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries and she had nearly died under Dolohov's wand, was when her secret came out again. There had been no reasoning away her potion induced loose tongue that had her babbling to Harry about why Professor Snape was a quintessential Byronic Hero; her desires to have him take her virginity against a wall and call her a, good girl, while doing it; and worst of all, her confession of wanting to make a colony of little dungeon bat pups to rival that of the Weasley clan. And unlucky for her, her sweet, often oblivious friend, was in possession of an elephant's memory when it had come to the late night deluge of her secrets. However, through the whole mortifying ordeal, she knew she could take solace in the knowledge that while Harry poked and teased her on occasion, sometimes mercilessly, he would take this - and anything else she told him - to his grave. Though whether it was from a place of love and loyalty or because for whatever silly reason he feared crossing her more than facing Voldemort she didn't know, nor was she going to question it. Her secrets were safe and that was all she cared for.

Third - or rather the first - had been an encounter with her Ancient Runes partner in their fourth year. He had unsolicitedly commented that her relationship with Viktor - which had still been unknown to the student body at the time - was never going to work and that she should just end things before they progressed further. Before her hackles could fully rise with her indignation at such a bold statement, he had continued with saying, "Just think of the possessive, jealous ire you'll bring forth in him if he has to bear witness to it all." And again as she had opened her mouth to speak or possibly curse him, he had pinned her with a look that suggested she was too stupid to live as he added, "Your love is kismet. Nothing you do to squash it will succeed, so you may as well stop with the less than flattering replacements and just practice patience. You cannot, nor should you, rush the sort of magic you two will make."

The chilling oddity of it all and his lack of explicitly naming Professor Snape, had been why Hermione had so easily dismissed his words at the time. Still, even now - two years after the fact - his statement would occasionally echo through her mind leaving her no choice but to quietly concede that the friend who had drafted her into friendship during their third year, somehow knew of her harbored, fanciful feelings and was in fact speaking of their professor. Though what he could have possibly meant by, possessive, jealous ire, and, kismet love that will make magic, she hadn't a clue nor the fortified resilience to examine it through a lens untainted by said feelings.

Mimicking Hermione as he huffed and folded his arms over the table to lean into them, Ron said, "Honestly, don't you two pay attention? It's Thursday, the ninth of January."

A look of enlightenment crossed Harry's face as he counted on his fingers and confirmed, "It is!"

"And Snape never teaches on January ninth."

"Do you think we'll get lucky and he'll be out for several days like he was the last two years?"

Glancing towards the head table to see Professor Snape's absence for herself, Hermione asked, "If he's going to be out today, where do you suppose Professor Lupin is? Since he filled in for Potions the last three years, I can't imagine him not filling in for Defense."

"Don't know," the boys responded, their matching glee filled looks conveying their lack of care over the peculiarities.

"What I do know, is it's about to be a Snape free day which means it is in fact a wonderful morning," Ron sang before shoving an entire fried egg in his mouth.

Raising slightly from the bench so that she was afforded a view across the hall, Hermione scanned the sea of silver and green searching for her haunted and melancholic friend. Finding the top of his dark head of hair as he chose to fiddle with something in his lap over eating, she bore her gaze into him while absently collecting a stack of toast and bacon for him to nibble on later. It took him only a moment to feel the weight of her waiting eyes and look up in her direction. Though it was a detail she couldn't see through the distance and crowd, she knew every facet of his too keen and knowing Persian blue eyes as they held her own honeyed green, nodding only once as he over enunciated a silent, "Later," so she could easily read his lips despite the two houses between them before going back to whatever had holding his attention before her.

His singular word did little to ease the pit that grew in her stomach in their professor's absence. She had once been curious as to the significance of the ninth of January and pulled the old student records from the library. Finding out that the day in question was his birthday had put all her other curiosities to bed. The man simply took time off to celebrate at his leisure and why shouldn't he? But then their fourth year came and with it, his absence extending by three additional days leaving her to inquire about it with the twins and later Bill. Then the deviation from his pattern during her tenure had happened again last year and in light of finding out he was a former Death Eater turned spy for the Order, she had fretted over his safety for the near week he was gone. It was only when he had turned up at breakfast on the seventh day following his birthday had she felt a sense of ease return to her. Now the growing dread was back and with it an undeniable correlation between Voldemort's second coming and Professor Snape's growing absences.

"Hermione? You coming?" Harry asked, breaking her from the plummeting trachectory of her thoughts.

Taking notice of the exodus that was beginning to occur as nine o'clock drew near, she heaved her knapsack onto her shoulder and stepped over the bench to join he and Ron in the shuffle, ineffectively lying, "Yes, sorry. Got distracted thinking about my half of the Ancient Runes homework," though neither took notice as Ron launched like a Firebolt into his old rant about her classroom partnership with Theo.

"Why do you continue to work with that freak of a snake? Sure, Babbling put you two together in third year but bloody hell Hermione, I would think by now you'd be running for the Astronomy Tower to get away from him.

"I mean just look at him!" He pointed, as if Theo's mere existence answered everything. "The way he just stares at everyone like he can see inside their very souls but at the same time seems like he's on another sodding planet with Luna as it's only other inhabitant. At least with her we know she's not off killing people's pets. Can't say the same about Nott."

"Ron! That's a horrible thing to say!"

"Maybe, but he's got a point, Hermione. I mean look at who his father is," Harry readily agreed.

"Theo is not his father," she seethed with a feral finality.

Squinting his flabbergasted eyes, Ron disblievingly accused, "You fancy him, don't you!"

Seeing several heads turn in their direction, Hermione quickly hissed, "Keep your voice down, Ronald."

"Jumping hippogriffs, you do!"

"Ron!"

"Blimey Hermione, of all the no good pricks in this school that could turn you into a simp-"

"I do not fancy Theodore Nott!" She affirmed, closing her eyes as her cheeks heated upon the realization that she had shouted her words for the whole of their lower NEWT level Defense class to hear.

Draping an arm around her shoulders, Theo bemoaned, "How swiftly you deny our torrid love affair, Granger. You wound me." Kissing her temple as he sauntered off to join Malfoy and Zabini, his fingers twitching deep in his pocket, he further embarrassed her by calling over his shoulder, "Don't forget our tryst in the library during free period."

"Someone please kill me now," she grumbled, filtering into the classroom where she inelegantly plopped down into her seat, staring daggers into the innocent wood grain of her desk.

"Let us all hope as Hogwarts's new resident star-crossed lovers, Mr. Nott and Miss Granger have a happier ending than that of their predecessors, Romeo and Juliet, yes?" Lupin teased, from the back of the classroom as he walked up the aisle to Professor Snape's desk.

Groaning as she gave up and let her forehead connect with the tabletop, she reached beside her chair to dig around in her bag as their former Defense professor eased into the day's lecture.

"Obviously Professor Snape is currently predisposed and as such, is unavailable to teach today. But don't fret, it appears he has left explicit instructions on what he wishes me to teach in his absence," Lupin snorted, lifting up a thick roll of parchment from the teacher's desk before making a show of reading the lecture's outline, occasionally muttering about how he wasn't a flobberworm brained nimrod and had in fact taught the exact same class himself several years prior.

As he approached the bottom, he gave another exaggerated eye roll before smirking at them all. Rolling it up, he tapped his wand against the parchment, rapidly duplicating it before sending copies out across the classroom for each of them to take possession of.

"Today's lecture will mark the beginning of an in-depth, hands off study about the Unforgivable Curses. Upon completion of studying the history, theory, and recounted tales of the effects of such dark magic upon a person, you will be independently reviewed by Professor Snape as to whether or not you will be allowed to continue on not only in this course of study, but in the NEWT level Defense program overall.

"If he deems your knowledge and projected career trajectory satisfactory, you will be given a go ahead to further study Defense at the NEWT level. This review will take place at the beginning of March, whereupon you will need to receive parental or custodial approval - regardless of if you are of age or not - to partake in the practice of experiencing these curses first hand. If you do not receive approval, exceptions can be made but more than likely you will be barred from continuing the course."

"But Professor," Seamus interrupted. "Most of us already had the Imperius Curse put on us when Moody-"

"I am well aware of what transpired in this classroom two years ago when Barty Crouch Jr. was masquerading as the renowned Auror, Alastor Moody. However this is the proper procedure for learning about such nefarious magic set forth not only by the Ministry's Departments of Education and Law Enforcement but by the Board of Governors and the Headmaster as well."

Beginning to take a turn about the classroom as he was prone to do when lecturing, Lupin began, "Now then, with the qualifiers and appearance of red tape out of the way, you will recall from your fourth year that there are three Unforgivable Curses. Would anyone care to name them for us?"

As if it were a reflex, Hermione's hand shot in the air, eager to get recognized.

"Miss Granger, go ahead."

"Swot," Crabbe coughed from across the classroom prompting Harry to bark out, "Can you even spell swot you troll brained baboon?"

Electing to ignore them both, she primly continued with her answer.

"The Imperius Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Killing Curse, Professor."

"Correct, five points to Gryffindor," he congratulated. "And five from Slytherin," he added with a satisfied quirk of his brow as he continued his perusal of the classroom.

"The Imperius Curse is invoked with the incantation, Imperio, in conjunction with a wand movement of pointing at the caster's intended victim. This curse hands complete control over the person it is placed upon to the dark witch or wizard who utilizes it, leaving them vulnerable to all levels of manipulation and compelled deeds they might otherwise have not been inclined to commit. Unlike the Cruciatus and Killing Curses, the Imperius Curse leaves no visible trace on its victim which makes it especially difficult to determine factual use within court cases if they do not have a reliable and skilled Legillmens at their disposal or the offending wand present for the Wizengamot to examine with Prior Incantato, which does what?"

Shooting her hand into the air again, Hermione eagerly awaited Lupin to call on her for the answer. When she received an indulgent smile and gentle nod of his head, she expounded, "Prior Incantato is a charm placed on a wand that shows the spells, charms, jinxes, hexes, and curses said wand has been used to cast.

"The charm starts by revealing the most recently cast bit of magic and continues in reverse chronological order. There is no definitive answer for how far back the charm can go but court reported accounts have demonstrated that when performed by someone exceedingly talented and knowledgeable in Charms - such as Professor Flitwick who during a closed proceeding following the First Wizarding War used Prior Incantato on an unnamed defendant's wand - it can reveal spells as old as eighteen months provided those searching have the patience for such an extensive cataloging."

"Well done, Hermione. Another five points to Gryffindor," he further awarded, making her beam at him from her desk as she internally preened under praise she could only fantasize about receiving from Professor Snape. Something she regularly partook in late at night when her bed curtains were drawn tight with a silencing spell and her fingers deep in her knickers.

Looping along the far end of the classroom, closest to the windows, Professor Lupin resumed his lecture, knocking free the suddenly indecent thoughts that had sprung forth in her mind, threatening to wet her aforementioned knickers.

"The second Unforgivable is the Cruciatus Curse which is often referred to in layman's terms as the Tourture Curse. As its colloquial reference suggests, it is used to cause excruciating, whole body pain on its victim. It is often employed as a means of quickly extracting information during an interrogation though how reliable the intel received is personally questionable at best. That's not to say though that it is not utilized for a more sadistic purpose as you will learn when studying the joint trial proceedings against that of Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange as well as Barty Crouch Jr.

"Where the Imperius Curse leaves no discernable trace to be found by anyone except a handful or two of witches and wizards around the globe, the Cruciatus leaves many marks upon its victims," Lupin explained, his gaze shuttering as he avoided looking in Hermione's direction. Softly clearing his throat though the noise still echoed through the somber class, he continued, "These irrefutable signs can appear in unique snowflake like burn patterns if the caster pressed their wand point directly into the flesh of their victim, seizures, and after prolonged exposure - though what is deemed as prolonged is measured on a sliding scale based on the victim's own magic reserve as well as their-"

Professor Lupin's lecture was again interrupted, this time by a knock on the door that only briefly proceeded its opening to reveal a hand wringing, third or possibly fourth year Hufflepuff who was hastening up the aisle.

"I apologize Professor," the timid girl squeaked out. "Professor McGonagall was just called from class to meet the Headmaster and Professor Snape and she asked that I relay to you that Professor Dumbledore requests your presence in his office as well."

"Well if this doesn't bring back memories of my own tenure as a student," he chuckled, looking relieved by the announcement that he no longer had to carry on the heavy lecture. "Thank you, Miss Todd, you and the others can be on your way now to enjoy your unexpected free period." Looking over the girl's head he dismissed them all by saying, "Be sure you review today's lecture outline and take special note of the homework assignment at the bottom. I cannot say if you will see me again come your Monday period but I will be here filling in again tomorrow should you have any questions."

Packing her bag as Harry and Ron began to speculate as to why Dumbledore was interrupting classes by summoning the professors to him, Hermione almost missed the girl's additional comment.

"Professor Lupin, sir," she spoke more forcibly to be heard over the ruckus. "Professor Lupin!"

Turning around from the desk where he had rested his monogrammed briefcase, he apologized, "Forgive me Miss Todd, my hearing isn't quite up to snuff so far removed from the full moon. You were saying?"

Looking directly at Hermione, the girl answered, "She said you're to bring Miss Granger with you, sir."

Looking at Harry and Ron with wide eyes, she answered their questions asking what she knew about it all by stuttering, "Nothing. I know nothing, I've done nothing," a new panic settling into her belly as she recalled the Arithmancy project about dating a person's age and magic she had done over the Christmas holiday that she hadn't been entirely honest on.

Placing a hand between her tense shoulders, Lupin murmured, "You needed worry, Hermione. However it's best not to leave them know how impatient Severus can be and he's supposed to be off today making what little he does possess now nonexistent."

Mumbling her agreement, she didn't even bother to seal her knapsack as she lifted it into her arms, carrying it in front of her person like a shield. She may not have been honest about her findings on the project but it wasn't as if she had cheated for gain, so why would the Headmaster need to see her? Surely it was a matter more suited to be handled between her and Professor Vector; maybe with Professor McGongall too as she was her head of house and thus responsible for her. Unless of course they were going to kick her out for her inflated age or worse, lock her up in Azkaban with the Death Eaters that were in residence because of how she got to her inflated age. Though of all the things she had done at Harry's side, surely abusing the Time-Turner as she had wouldn't even rank.

"I'll be in our spot in the library when you're done," Theo quietly informed her as she passed by.

"But I don't know-"

"It won't be but a minute or two of your time, Hermione," he soothed. "Promise."

Guiding her by the hand still at her back, Lupin nudged her along as her head bobbled like a figurine in response. Then, just like that, her stomach which was already in knots as she felt like she was being led to the gallows dropped further. Certainly what she had done was about to incur her life changing consequences if Dumbledore, McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape were all to bear witness to her condemnation.

Her dread over her coming fate in academics and the Wizarding World at large was so immense that by the time they reached the gargoyle tasked with securing the head office, she was on the verge of tears and possibly throwing up or peeing herself or maybe both. Even more, her body was a trembling, sweaty mess as her heart raced with anxiety awakened adrenaline causing her blood to rush through her ears with a deafening speed. The pounding of blood was so loud that it prevented her from hearing the heated argument that was spilling from behind the closed office door and down the spiraling stairs until she was right upon it with Lupin throwing the door open as he ordered, "Whatever it is, put it aside. Hermione's here as requested."

"Of course you had him bring her," Professor Snape spat. "Honestly Albus, you were once a brilliant man. Whatever could have possessed you into being so foolhardy as to make Miss Granger privy to this conversation?"

Holding up his cursed hand with a far too humorous smile for the situation, the Headmaster replied, "I believe the foolhardiness began moments before I did this to myself."

"Albus, please," Professor McGongall snapped. "This is no laughing matter."

"No it most certainly is not, Minerva.

"Remus, would you please close and silence the door? This is best discussed without further prying ears than we have on the walls," he kindly asked, gesturing to the collection of portraits that were filled with unusually alert former headmasters of the school.

"As for why Miss Granger is here, Severus, the time is nearly upon us. I must be sure she is ready."

"I've spent the last five and half years making sure she was not only ready but that despite her and Potter's best efforts, she didn't go off and die on me in some hairbrained scheme to take down the Dark Lord."

"Nevertheless," the Headmaster stated, once again holding up his blackened hand, this time in a gesture meant to placate Professor Snape's ever present displeasure. "There are things we need to verify before this afternoon in light of her Arithmancy project."

Finally losing the battle, Hermione dropped her knapsack, its contents spilling across the plush carpeted floors as the floodgates released on her tears, her beseeching words of clemency barely discernible around her heavy sobs.

"Oh child," McGonagall hummed, rushing to her side to walk her over to an overstuffed armchair. "It's not as bad as you think, I promise."

Gasping for breath in a futile attempt to regain her composure, she sniffled, "So I'm not expelled for lying about the results of my Arithmancy project?"

"No, but I am afraid that time is of the essence and we must sort the matter quickly, Miss Granger," Dumbledore answered. "So if you don't mind, Severus and Minerva will ask you a series of questions to properly date your age in light of your use of the Time-Turner during your third year. After they have their results and provided they match, you will be free to go, though I caution you not to speak of this to anyone and expressly forbid you from asking questions of your own. With only hours remaining, we cannot risk a leak in information."

Only too happy with the realization that the blanket of security from expulsion that Dumbledore wrapped Harry in extended to her, Hermione readily agreed. If the worst that was to happen to her was that the four professors in the room would know that she had celebrated her eighteenth birthday before the calendar had even marked her seventeen, then she wouldn't look the abraxan she had just been gifted in the mouth. If anything, it was probably a formality before inducting her as an official member of the Order given how dark things with the coming war were turning.

Still, she was a deeply curious person by nature and couldn't help but wonder what was to happen in just a few hours and what it could possibly have to do with her. She was no one special, simply Harry's friend who was willing to go over a cliff with him should he need it. And yet, whether it was truth or the fanciful thoughts of a besotted teenager, she couldn't help catch a glimpse of Professor Snape looking at her as if she were the beginning and end of everything he knew before his eyes shuttered into his customary unreadable expression once more.