I awake again and I'm on my side on the sofa. For a split second, I think: all a dream. My thick cloak is over me, and the fire from last night is now raging. Warm and comfortable, I let my eyelids close again, but movement makes me fully wake, and the realization is that it's not all a dream. I lift my head to follow the sound.

Severus was washing his glass from the night before, such a mundane task. But seeing him with his sleeves rolled up and just in a white shirt and trousers, forgoing his usual attire, he looked smaller somehow. I continued to sit up fully, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"Morning," and he quickly looks over to me.

"Good morning," he says formally. His appearance seems relaxed, but his voice is sharp.

"What time is it?" I enquire. "A little after 7 - wow, still early. I think I thought I'd slept for ages!"

"Tea?" he asks, already reaching for my cup. "Yes, please," I reply.

I'm sorry I broke into our room. I didn't think anyone would be in here, and I just couldn't sleep in the medi-wing. I rushed out to explain.

"Obviously," he replies.

Okay, one-word answers are great. I persevere. "Did you manage any sleep?"

"Yes, quite well, considering I had a half-frozen witch on my lap for most of the night," he replies with one eyebrow raised.

I giggled, which only increased the height of his eyebrow.

"So", I say once I had control over myself - why were you in our old rooms?

"Same reason," he shrugged his shoulders as he answered honestly. "I found I couldn't sleep."

He places the tea cup on the table in front of me. It's my cup and saucer, no doubt brewed to perfection, which makes me sad for a moment. Gathering myself, I excuse myself to use the bathroom. To get to the only bathroom, I had to go through our bedroom. I try not to snoop as I pass through, but I note that the bed is made. Did he sleep on the chair for the rest of the night?

In our bathroom, there was nothing remarkable except for the shampoo bottle, which had tiny black spiky writing on it. "Ah, I'd missed those," I thought to myself. I took care of business and washed my hands in the sink, looking at my reflection for the first time. It was me, an older version than the one I'd been used to seeing. My skin, though smooth, had lost its puppy fat. My eyes, hazel in color, were tired, and I had dark circles underneath. My hair was frightful, and I looked like I'd been given an electric shock. I reached forward, grabbed my own hairbrush, and raked it through my hair. The brush made light work, thankfully. "Gods, I had missed this brush!" Realizing I was only dressed in a white nightgown sans any underwear, my nipples hardened at the cold.

I paused mid-brushing and stared into my own eyes; the truth was, I'd missed this person.

The last few years had been especially hard, knowing what I was missing. Being a teenager at war, so close to him but so far away, was agony.

I set the brush down and open the small mirrored cupboard in front of me our two toothbrushes still stood side by side that gave me courage - I quickly brushed my teeth and returned to the living rooms.

Severus stood facing out the window, sipping the last of his tea, and he turned.

His eyes flickered over me; I knew he could see the darkness of my nipples, and I felt extremely exposed.

I cover myself with my arms, feeling suddenly shy. It's ridiculous; this man has seen every inch of me.

"Found the hairbrush, I see," he says. I let go of the breath I was holding. "Ha, yes, I'm grateful it's still all in there."

I quickly return to the sofa to start on my tea. I take a sip but grimace as it's gone cold. I place the cup back down. He points his wand, and it's steaming once again. Grateful, I reach for it again and start sipping. "I don't have my wand," I say as a way of reply. Do you know what happened to it?

"You've been wandering around the castle without your wand?" That was incredibly stupid. My anger immediately flares. "Well, yes, I snapped. I had no other choice, did I?"

Well, yes, you did. You could've stayed put in the infirmary. He answered sarcastically. He returned to his chair. We sat opposite each other. He watched me drink the remainder of my tea. His appearance was relaxed. But he had an edge to his voice. His elbow was resting on the arm of the chair, and his chin was resting on the heel of his hand, watching with dark eyes.

I mirror him, tucking my feet underneath me and covering myself further with my cloak. I no longer feel so exposed.

Once I'm settled, he starts, "What do you remember?" He speaks from behind his hand.

I cradle my cup, draw in a breath, lower my eyes, and start my story.

The last thing I remember was us having breakfast that morning. I paused to

Look up at him to see if he understood what I meant by "us," seeing that he was engaged, I continued.

The next full thought, with both of my memories combined, is approximately 3 years ago. I let that sink in.

If he was alarmed, he didn't show it. His nostrils flared slightly, but no comment was made, so I pressed on.

I was in sitting in the great hall and the next thing was an intense pressure in my head I thought I was having a stroke - I absentmindedly touch my forehead at the memory that was so painfully remembered.

One minute I was in front of you, next I'm sitting in front of Ron Weasley. It was so disorienting. Image after image slammed into me - like when someone says, "I watched my life literally flash before my eyes." No one has ever mentioned the pain that goes with it!

I struggled to even stand.

But somehow, I basically ran from the castle and went straight to the forest.

I don't know why I was there, but I just needed to get away from the noise, people, and everything.

I think I must have passed out, as the next conscious thing is waking up crumpled on the floor just inside the forest, hidden from view.

When I fully awoke, my mind could not understand all these thoughts and feelings. My timeline was completely frazzled. Memories from my first time at Hogwarts were not in line with this time. Lessons I'd already done were projects I'd yet to do. Snippets of conversations played over and over in my head. I thought I was going mad.

Then, one memory surfaced above the rest: "the jump."

All this information and research crowded my thoughts. This time, the idea that if we needed to go back to correct a situation came to me. The clear thought was that the jump must have worked, but I was here but not here! I didn't fully understand it at the time, but that comes later.

Gathering myself, I continue. I head back to the castle, not really sure if I should go straight to you. Which is what I wanted to do by the way, above everything—I had to fight that with every fibre of my being, so I went straight to Minerva and sat there numb while she chatted away. The weather, how well I was doing with my predicted grades—I don't think I uttered a single word. She prattled on; I don't think she paused for breath. I knew in that instant she didn't know and couldn't possibly help me! I made my excuses and headed for the library, trying to look up anything, anything at all. I really did. But without all my notes and files that were locked away in our rooms, I didn't really stand a chance to find and redo over 4 years of work in a single sitting. I couldn't get to them without you noticing—I was completely exhausted. I made a promise to myself that I would find a way home, so I went to my student room and staggered to bed.

I looked up at him to see if he had followed my speech. He hadn't moved a muscle; his eyes were hungry for information, or anger—I wasn't sure which. I took a cleansing breath and continued.

Over the next few weeks, I was a shell. Some things were easy to mask, but others not so much. Being around you was by far the hardest. Your hatred was palpable, and I could feel it seeping out of you at any exchange we had in those early days. I was frightened of you. I'm not going to sugarcoat it; being around you was terrifying. You were not my Severus. A single tear spills free down my face and into the white nightgown, quickly followed by its twin from the other eye. "I knew right then I couldn't go to you." I didnt know if you remembered me. I quickly wipe my face.

And made to stand up, frustrated that I had cried so much in front of him!

I pulled the cloak on fully. He sat straighter, I'm sure, wondering if I was getting ready to leave.

I stood by the same window he was at when I came back from the bathroom. Its view was towards the lake, and the sun was slowly rising, giving a beautiful orange glow in the sky.

I speak into the window pane, knowing he's hanging on every word.

As the months went by, I finally understood my assignment.

"Which was?" His voice broke through smoothly but had an edge to it.

I turn back to him but stay leaning against the window cill, fold my arms, and continue soothing myself.

"To protect Harry and ultimately protect you"

Surprise flickered across his face. "The Harry part I understand, believe me, but the latter I don't"?

"Well, I now knew everything about your real alliances and who you truly were. I took my previous knowledge from the previous war and, knowing you so well, what we needed to do. I could somehow follow your thought process and try to predict what you'd do next, and by doing so, ensure we'd be in a position to try not to get ourselves killed. Of course, it didn't always work—these guys are hotheaded teenagers after all, and The Order... my God, it was like fighting with one arm tied behind our backs. I almost shouted in frustration."

I did consider telling Dumbledore, but he had already had so much over you there was no way I was prepared to do that.

Once Umbridge was here and Hogwarts went to shit, I knew we had to get out of there. On the race to find these Horcruxes, that night in the forest, I knew it was you.

The sword you placed for us. I almost came to you then, but I was too afraid. And with Dumbledore gone... I drop my arms to the side, defeated. I pause as he shifts uncomfortably.

With a wave of his wand, my cup was refilled. I moved back over to the sofa, settled myself once again, and, taking a welcome sip, continued.

The night of the battle was the first time I had been back here. Seeing the destruction, I closed my eyes briefly; the image was almost too painful to process. Seeing you and how ill you looked, a shiver ran up my spine. I knew we were on borrowed time.

"The shack," he mumbled. You knew everything at that point?

"Yes," I answered breathlessly, "it was you who saved my life?"

"Yes," I replied. Big hiccuping tears fell, like a tide of grief spilled from me, and I couldn't hold them back.

A gentle hand, then arm, then chest as I was enfolded into his embrace—he held me tight as I tried to get a handle on my emotions.

Slowly, as I got my breath under control, I sat back, and he released me slightly. To break the tension, I said, "Still an ugly crier." He snorted, and it made me laugh and cry at the same time.

I excuse myself again and go to splash some water on my face.

When I come back out, he's nowhere to be found.

Puzzled, I patiently wait, but as time ticks by, I realize he's put some space between us, maybe needing some air. I pad into my old room and select a quick change of clothes, sadly put my cup and saucer in the sink, and leave.