Hermione stood outside St. Patrick's Catholic Church. Her heart was racing. She'd been staring at the church for a good twenty minutes. She was early so the twenty minutes didn't make her late.

The church wasn't going to answer her. Unlike Hogwarts it wasn't going to tell her anything. It was just a building. If she wanted her answer she had to go in there and find out.

Was she making a huge mistake?

She really didn't know. Her comment about meeting him here had been somewhat of a throw away the first time they'd met up in the Room. She said it without realizing they'd talk again.

Without thinking about the fact that if he was not on their side he had years to come up with a plan to kill her. And no one knew she was coming here today.

Would she have shown up if they'd only spoken the one time the night of the headmaster's death?

Probably.

She'd never know, obviously.

She just had to be right.

So that swayed her to most likely over just probably on her showing here anyway. Wouldn't that be ironic? Getting taken out at a muggle church by Professor Snape after making it through six years of Hogwarts and about to embark on a hunt for horcruxes with Harry and Ron.

She was dressed very muggle, but appropriate enough for a house of God. She couldn't leave her house dressed for church. Her parents would really question where she was going. She'd seen young Severus Snape two days ago. He'd either not tried to use the mirror since she'd given it to him, or he had and it hadn't worked across time. She'd asked him not to use it this week.

If he even still had it.

Nearly twenty years was a long time to tote around a mirror.

Of course, she'd known at the time she gave it to him that while he'd leave Hogwarts for a while to do his apprenticeship that he'd be back and pretty steadily living in the same place even after leaving it as a student. She didn't know exactly where he went to do his apprenticeship, but knew he started teaching at Hogwarts in 1981.

And it was a piece of a mirror not a full-length mirror or anything. So it wasn't as if it took up much space in the grand scheme of things. He could have put it in a drawer in his quarters that fall and forgotten about it until it was time.

She'd asked him not to use it once he realized it was the time she would have first seen him in the Room. She'd given him enough clues (unintentionally or not) for him to figure out it was this year. She'd told him she was finishing her sixth year. He wasn't stupid by any means. On top of that, he was perfectly capable of doing rudimentary math to know what year the end of her sixth year would be from the beginning of her first.

Maybe without her full name it wouldn't work. She really didn't know. It would have been interesting to know if he had tried when they weren't in the same time. Would it have worked? Would Sirius know if he tried? She really wasn't sure how the mirror worked. She didn't know whether it was tied to Sirius or the Black family. Blood. If it was, it wouldn't work for either of them. Except Harry used it and he wasn't a Black, but he used it with Sirus.

He had left her notes that the Room did not give to her until after their last visit. She wasn't sure why, but could only imagine what her third year self would have thought finding a note from Severus Snape written in 1978 and beyond. They'd appeared on her bed when she was packing to go home. So, the Room obviously wanted her to have them. There'd been a few, not enough to appear obsessive and not overly long or at all flowery. Enough that she knew he had thought about her over the years. They were usually at the end of school terms when it was clear that no one was dying or no threat was imminent so he knew it wasn't "their" year.

The last one was from June 1991.

My Hermione:

I've known for years when your first year at Hogwarts would be. With that, this will be my last end of year note to you. I don't even know if you will get any of the ones I've written or if you will when. I do not know how I will react to seeing you as my student. I think I can be unbiased and adhere to the role I must play, but am unsure. I believe continuing to write these notes will make it more difficult to keep the objectivity I need. Until now your presence here, and the events that apparently come with that, was a far off thing. Whatever comes to pass I do hope that you can understand I have a job to do. Ten years in I still don't know what kind of professor I am, but I do know I excel at my other job. I suppose whatever happens ended up with you in the Room that day of my fifth year and you becoming my friend so you must understand. Regardless. There's more I could say, but I will refrain and simply end with.

Good luck.

Two days for her.

Nineteen years for him.

Would he remember where she'd said to meet her? He'd been rather busy the past few years so she wouldn't blame him exactly if he did happen to forget.

She assumed he would know it was Dumbledore's death that had her upset and questioning her "crush's" loyalty. Nothing else to this point had driven her to that emotional state and he would likely know that.

She wasn't even sure when he'd become a crush. Somewhere around the time he'd come to the Shrieking Shack she supposed. She just saw him … differently. It would have been so easy to let Remus kill the three of them. No one would have known. He could have been just a little too slow, or done something to make the Whomping Willow not allow him in.

Looking back on it over the past few days, when she'd had time to think of such things, she realized it had started before then but that was the moment she could put her finger on.

There were other, little, things but she'd been too young - and too focused on Ron - to see them.

He let her get away with stealing ingredients from him unpunished, and hadn't laughed at her for her personal polyjuice potion mishap.

He healed her after being cursed.

He didn't have to go through such an effort to come up with as aggressive a potions regiment as he did. Of course, he would have had a clue how to heal her because she'd told him in the past. She'd told him who had cursed her and what the spell had "looked" like.

Harry Potter would have been without Hermione then, and a true Death Eater would have allowed that to happen. He could have very easily gotten away with it.

She'd tried to decide if that was when she started believing in him. Liking him. She was sure it had happened before then, though. She remembered feeling … embarrassed that he'd seen her in such a state. And it was a different kind of embarrassment than she felt at the idea of Madam Pomfrey who was a medical professional seeing her.

Cedric could have been the death that led her to the Room the night they first spoke, but that wasn't at the end of the school year. She'd told him, by telling him the date, that the person had died the night they met.

Sirius' death might have been the one she referred to.

If she hadn't been lying in an infirmary bed healing for a while afterward.

Severus would know that wasn't the night they'd met, though. She was in the infirmary, for one. He would know from their conversations in the Room that she was going to be back for her sixth year. She'd told him she was finishing her sixth year.

In truth, though, while she'd liked Sirius well enough and was certainly sad and sorry to see anyone die. Especially the main connection Harry had to his parents. Remus wasn't the same either, Hermione knew that even if Harry didn't say so. It was clear that while he'd been a Marauder it was James and Sirius who were thick as thieves. Remus was grateful to have somewhere to fit in given his secret. Peter Pettigrew was just a hanger on. At least that was what it seemed like.

She still didn't understand how he had managed to fool so many people for so long! He gave her the creeps, but then fourteen years as a rat might have made him that way. How different would Harry's life have been if Sirius hadn't been in Azkaban for years?

True, she hadn't thought Sirius was a real great influence on Harry. Maybe that would have changed with time, or if he'd been involved from the beginning. She'd obviously never know now. She wasn't relieved he'd died or anything. It was hard enough to keep Harry focused on his schoolwork so that he could have a good future as his parents would no doubt want him to have without Sirius whispering mischievous ideas into her best friend's ear.

Her thoughts turned back to the reason she was here today.

Severus Snape.

Was he even alive?

For all she knew he fled Hogwarts after killing the headmaster and was killed himself by a Death Eater, or Voldemort.

Was he truly a Death Eater after all? She'd had most of a week to think about it and she really thought she'd come to the right conclusion. She'd weighed the facts and tried to be objective about it. She thought she had anyway.

She sighed heavily, pushing some hair behind an ear with a deep sigh.

This was ridiculous.

She'd never find out if she kept standing here.

And she wanted to know the truth!

Decision made, she crossed the street so that she could enter the church. She dipped her hand in the bowl of holy water just inside the entrance and crossed herself before continuing to a pew toward the back.

She reached into her beaded bag and summoned her rosary. It had been her mother's who had gotten it from her mum. She had gotten it after she gave her first confession the same as her mum and grandmum. She didn't really practice anymore, but she thought she would look more as if she belonged if she had it out. She closed her eyes and found herself praying for the first time in probably years.

It was a magical war, but they could use all the help they could get. 

She didn't look as someone took a seat on the pew to her right about fifteen minutes after she'd arrived. Her eyes were still closed, her hands still clutched the rosary but she heard the approaching footsteps so wasn't surprised someone was here. She knew it wasn't just someone, though.

It was him.

She'd recognize his scent and the feeling he evoked in her anywhere. He made her senses feel alive in a way she hadn't imagined possible. And her hair. She hadn't understood what it was when she'd first felt it, she'd been so young. When it finally hit her she felt so stupid for not understanding sooner.

And for thinking Ron could compare.

She did open her eyes, clutching the rosary a little tighter and continued looking straight ahead.

"Do you have any idea how long the past nineteen years have been?"

Was she supposed to answer that? She didn't think so, so kept her mouth shut.

"I went over in my mind several times what I'd say when we finally got to our Saturday. This Saturday. Now that I am - we are - here I admit I have no idea what to say."

"I'm not exactly sure either," she admitted.

"So, do I call you Hermione or Miss Granger?" She was glad he chose to speak first, because she wasn't truly sure what to say now that they were here together.

"Which would you prefer?"

He sighed heavily. "Hermione. She is why I'm here."

"May I call you Severus?"

She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye.

"You may," he said.

That answer relieved her. She wasn't sure how much of that Severus was left. She took a chance and looked at him then, settling her right hand over his left.

"Do not touch it," he whispered. Whether it was because they were in a church or because he just wanted to ensure no one but her would hear him she wasn't sure.

"I know. I mean, I don't really know but guessed that I shouldn't."

"I came to realize shortly after our last encounter the times you looked at and touched that arm were because you wondered if I had it yet."

"Yes," she said with a nod. He was right. She didn't know for certain when he got it.

"I have a multitude of questions."

She chuckled softly at that. She couldn't help it.

"You find that amusing?"

"Mm, yes," she said. "Considering some of the things you've said to me the past six years I find it immensely amusing."

"I had no choice! I could not show an ounce of empathy. Albus would certainly have noticed if no one else did."

"I understand. I do, truly. I'm not mad, Severus."

"I felt like a dirty old man when I first saw you. I mean I knew all along when I found your name when you'd be at Hogwarts and how old we'd both be when you first saw me. I'd say I saw you, but that's not how it happened for me. The idea, the concept, of seeing you as a first year wasn't the real thing. You didn't know and I knew that. It still felt wrong. I had to sit at the head table, watching you, and pretend that I loathed you. Pretend that I didn't know what you taste and feel like. Watching you befriend Potter certainly helped a bit."

Oh, he was making jokes. That was a good sign, wasn't it? She liked to think so.

"And now?"

"Now? Well, I've had six years to come to terms with … things. You were of age in wizarding terms when the Room allowed us to meet one another. You were not that girl. It was just hard to differentiate at times because our conversations meant a great deal to me. As few in number as they were, they gave me hope at a time I had none. No one else was giving me any either. I wanted to have more of them with you, but knew it wasn't the time. Yet. I was afraid if I showed any leniency someone would wonder why."

"I'm sure it was difficult. I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to apologize. That girl didn't know and it wasn't as if you did anything. I did it, started it I mean. I thought at first it might have been after your fifth year, the night Black died but I realized once I had to assist in healing you that wasn't possible. That wasn't how I envisioned learning how you got that scar either. For eighteen years I had to stop myself from terminating Anton because I wasn't sure if doing so would alter things I shouldn't. Someone different may have been there and succeeded where he failed. Then I saw you that night, saw how bad it was fresh, and wished I had. However, you'd told me which spell of his he'd used whether you realize it or not. It meant I could save you. If he'd been dead it could have been Bella. Or any number of his followers and I wouldn't have known how to help. And then I had to wait to see who would die next. Then, well, I knew ahead of time who it was and when you'd first appeared to me. You told me when it would happen even, inadvertently. I asked you the date and you told me. I had that knowledge, and it did aid me in preparing some for this. No great consolation."

"Am I wrong about you, Severus?"

He sighed softly. He gripped the seat back of the pew in front of them tightly with his right hand. He hadn't moved her hand from his arm yet. She watched, transfixed as his knuckles turned white due to his grip. There was a difference in student Severus and this Severus. Confidence, yes, but there was more.

When she'd last seen him he was still figuring things out. The path that he was going to take. A path that led them here. A probably very lonely path. She still really had no idea when he took the Dark Mark, but could only assume it was relatively soon after leaving Hogwarts. He was still growing up. He was a man but not quite one yet. Sitting beside her, though. There was nothing left of that awkward student-man she'd met. And kissed. And let touch her. And would have let shag her if she hadn't been a good person.

"I need an answer. You know that I do."

He took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. She watched as he unclenched his hand from its grip on the pew and gripped it again.

"You are not wrong, Hermione. I told you to trust your instincts. I had no idea what I was telling you to believe in at that time, but I would tell you the same thing today."

She stood then after a few minutes of silence between them, offering him her hand. She was positive what he'd just admitted was not easy for him to do and likely went against everything that he'd promised the headmaster. He looked up at her, clearly surprised and perhaps a bit confused.

"I have a room not far from here. If you'd like to come with me, we can talk where no one will overhear us."

"You are a trusting thing, aren't you? You only have my word that you're not wrong."

She nodded at his statement.

He was absolutely right, but she had her gut and she had Dumbledore who she just didn't think was a fool.

How? Part of his story she imagined.

There was nothing stopping him from amassing a group of Death Eaters to capture her here. He wouldn't have even had to show up! She didn't think he'd come in and sit down next to her if he was part of a ruse to capture or kill her.

"There's no one here, Severus," she said, gesturing to the church with her other hand. "If you'd wanted to take me out you would have done it already. Likely you were disillusioned and watching for quite a while before I got here. You saw me enter, I presume to ensure that I was by myself, and could have stopped me then. Nothing stopped you from assembling a team of Death Eaters to meet me here instead of you for that matter. You've had nearly twenty years to concoct a worthwhile and flawless plan to take out Harry Potter's mudblood friend if that was your intent, or bring me back to He Who Must Not Be Named I suppose. I believe in you, Severus, and I'd like to hear about it."

"You are still an odd witch," he said with a wry smirk. His eyes crinkled a little as he did. They hadn't done that the last time they'd talked as Hermione and Severus. She found it … endearing.

And kind of sexy.

Okay, maybe more than kind of.

Now was not the time to think like that, Hermione!

He stood though, clutching her hand tightly in the palm of his. She let out a breath at the contact.

"Do you mind a side-along?"

"I don't see as I have much choice since I don't know where we're going."

"Now who is trusting," she quipped followed immediately by a scoff by him. Yeah, the chances of the three of them, or even the whole Order being able to take out Severus Snape were pretty iffy at best.

She found a private spot in the church where they could apparate from, picturing their destination as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She tried not to think of the differences in the last time she'd been able to touch him. Now was not the time.

In actuality, the hotel was not that close to the church. It didn't really matter with apparating. She wanted to be as far from wizarding London as she could get. She figured the further away they were the better, for both of them.

"This is very nice," he said.

He clearly hadn't been expecting this room. It wasn't the lap of luxury, but it was nice. She had no idea how long they were going to be here. She wanted to be comfortable.

"I splurged. I figured we could both use the bit of extravagance after the week we've had. My parents think I'm with Harry and Ron. I went home yesterday to get some things. The boys think I'm at Hogwarts researching since I have Minerva's permission to do so while I still can with relative safety. We assume someone, you most likely seems to be the consensus from what I can gather, will be made headmaster before we know it. I told them I'd be in the Room so no one should search for me."

"So, Hermione, what will you do with me now that we're here?"

That question was dripping with innuendo, which he was fully aware of. She didn't get the impression he thought it was appropriate to pick up where they had left off any more than she did, though, so he was clearly teasing. Putting some levity on the days leading up to this moment.

"As much as I'd really like to pick up where we left off the last time I saw you as it's only been a couple of days for me and you left me in quite the state," she said, offering him a smile.

Oh good Lord, the wizard was actually blushing at her admitting that. That was the sweetest thing she'd ever seen. Had anyone ever seen Severus Snape blush? Had anyone admitted to him they wanted him?

"I don't think that's possible, though."

"When exactly was that anyway?"

"Hmm, two days ago."

He stepped toward her, brushing her hair away from her neck. She knew what he was looking for. Her hair slid along his wrist and hand as he touched her neck and the skin just below her ear.

"I see that now," he said, grazing the spot on her neck he'd left a mark on with the pad of his thumb.

She watched him seeming rather entranced as a few strands of her hair slithered around his fingertip. He seemed just as curious as to what was at work as she was.

"Ronald was none too pleased with either of them."

Severus chuckled at that. "I can imagine not. You deserve so much better than Ronald Weasley, Hermione."

"I know," she admitted, eyes on him.

"I am not…"

"I know," she said, holding up her hand to stop him. She knew what he was going to say. "I know that you are not some dark hero. I know you've done bad things. I know you took the Dark Mark of your own doing. I know you killed Headmaster Dumbledore, but I'm here because I believe it wasn't because you meant to be malicious. In any of it: taking the Dark Mark, what you had to do as a Death Eater, or killing him. Even before you became a spy, by the way. I do not believe you became a Death Eater because you wanted to rape and murder people. I think you wanted to be valued, appreciated, and accepted. I think you wanted power and access to knowledge about things that Hogwarts deems inappropriate, which you got. Unfortunately, it came at a great cost. I'm not sure you ever truly received the appreciation or acceptance."

He scoffed at that. "I cast the curse, Hermione! His death is on my hands. My soul."

"Yes, you did, I know you did. I don't know why and hope that you will tell me. Harry was there, he saw and heard it. Of course you know that. I can't help but think he heard what he wanted to hear. Maybe what you and perhaps the headmaster wanted him to hear, not what he should have heard. He asked you to, didn't he?"

He bowed his head.

"Hermione," he murmured.

"Don't worry, no one else suspects anything. At least no one has said that they do. And I am the cleverest witch of my age so clearly no one else could come to that conclusion without my input."

A low chuckle and a nod was his only response to her question. They were both quiet, seeming to come to terms with the fact he'd admitted that to her, albeit wordlessly, and that she'd come to the conclusion on her own.

After a long silence, his hand resting at her shoulder but doing nothing suggestive it seemed he was ready to talk.

"By the way, that note you gave me."

"Yes?"

"What was that? You're not supposed to use time travel that way."

She shrugged. Of course he'd ask her about her note. It was … questionable. However, she had not willingly time traveled. She hadn't asked for what had occurred between them to happen. She wanted to help him, even if it was in a very small way.

"I gave you a tip. I did not go into the Room of Requirement intending to time travel. I'm not even sure either of us truly time traveled for that matter. So I don't view it as abusing anything. I didn't tell you to bet a million to one odds on a football match or anything. I suggested you make a long-term investment on something I knew was for the next little while at least a safe and good risk. What you did with that information was out of my control. For all I know you could have forgotten all about it."

"Indeed. And Hogwarts let me take the note home with me."

He removed his jacket then, draping it over one of the two chairs the room offered.

"Before we get too deep in … conversation."

"Yes," she said, setting her beaded bag down and kicking off her trainers.

He moved closer to her again and leaned so his mouth was against her ear. She shivered in response. She couldn't help it. Nineteen years later and he smelled the same. Yes, it had only been days for her, but it had not been for him since the last time they saw one another like this.

And he still smelled very good. One day she would find out what it was because she knew it wasn't aftershave.

"Eileen Prince lives in the last house on Spinners End in Cokeworth."

She gasped. That hadn't been what she was expecting, but she knew what he was doing. The information he was trusting her with. He was telling her where he lived. Where his mum lived. That was huge. People would pay good money for that information.

"Severus?"

"Should something happen to me before I can bring you there myself she knows to expect you at some point."

"She does?"

"Mm," he said. There was that smirk with the wrinkling around his eyes again. It seemed he still had a dirty mind. His eyes darkening with that smirk told her he wasn't thinking about his mum just now. "There is paperwork there for you."

"Oh?" So maybe she was the one with a dirty mind.

"You're not the only one who can sneak around Hogwarts. I figured out your last name before following the instructions in your note. I snuck into Albus' office and checked his register of magical births. You weren't there in 1978's. I mean, no one named Hermione was. I checked the next year and found you late in 1979's listings, of course. I would have kept looking every year until I found you."

"You shouldn't have…"

"How else was I to invest for you as well," he said. "I figured whatever tips you were giving me must be good and you deserved to gain from them, too."

"Did you keep your investments?"

"I did. I have watched both here and there over the years. I cannot thank you enough."

She had told him in her note to invest as much as he could comfortably afford in Apple in December 1980 and Microsoft in March 1986.

"You have some in both as does my mother. I told no one and back in 1980 I didn't have enough funds to flood the market or anything that would cause suspicion. As I was twenty, nearly twenty-one, I don't think anyone found it suspicious I was just starting to invest. That I'd want to take care of my mother? Maybe, but no one did. I also was sure to dabble in other things here and there in between so it didn't seem suspicious six years later that I wanted in on something else."

"Right," she said. "I'm glad. And your mother? If she's still in Spinners End she must have gotten better?"

"She did. Her niece cared for her and within a year or so after I left Hogwarts she was fine. Better than fine really. She returned to my family home and my father attacked her after a few days of seemingly relief at her return. She managed to subdue him as she'd been practicing her spell casting during her convalescence and called the muggle authorities. He remains behind bars for attempted murder and she finally filed for divorce."

"For almost twenty years?"

"Mum allowed him to deliver some damage with his fists and a weapon before magically stopping him. As I said, at first he seemed relieved to have her return. After the initial shock of having his wife back, and in good shape physically and mentally, wore off he returned to his usual behaviours. Underneath that relief he was furious, of course, because she'd managed to disappear so completely for as long as she had. He was caught, as they say, red handed trying to kill her. I testified against him. He may be out at this point, truthfully. I haven't bothered to find out. I just know if he is, he's left her alone."

"That must have been difficult."

"I won't deny that it was. He's my father, but he was not a nice man. That made it easier. She's my mother. God, Hermione, I wish you could have seen her the first time she truly recognized me. The first time she realized what she had allowed to happen not just to me but to herself. It was almost as if she'd been under the Imperius for years. I vaguely recall her like that when I was a boy. I have my mother back. I won't deny we were not close instantly. We are both suspicious and rather stoic in nature so it took a while, but eventually. Well, we now have a more than decent relationship."

"I'm so glad for you! And your Prince family?"

"It didn't occur overnight but we were on speaking terms before the Dark Lord's return. Mum doesn't believe I serve him. Whatever you have in you she evidently does, too. The Prince's have been avoiding me, but as long as they communicate with Mum I'm okay with that. To be clear, because I don't want you galavanting off to set them straight about me, they believe in blood purity. They just do not wish to align themselves with the Dark Lord officially. At least not at this time."

"I'm so glad. Not that they're not speaking to you currently or about their beliefs, but that you were able to meet them at all and get to know them somewhat before his return."

"As am I. I also familiarized myself with who Horton was, just as an aside."

She smirked at that. She could just picture Severus Snape, dressed in black visiting the Cokeworth library to look through various Dr. Seuss books to find the one she'd mentioned.

"Now, tell me," she said, taking a seat in a chair at the table that was near the window of the room. There was a second chair there, the one he'd put his jacket over, which he took. He set his arms on the table and stared out the window for a moment before he started talking.

He told her everything starting from 1971 to 1978 and then from 1978 when he last saw his Hermione until now. She wondered if he'd ever purged himself like this before. The headmaster she supposed, but it was a long time ago when he would have first approached Albus Dumbledore. Much had happened in that time and it sounded like he'd come to the conclusion long ago that while he mostly trusted the headmaster that feeling was not necessarily reciprocated.

Hermione didn't think that was necessarily the case. Initially, yes she supposed he would have been suspicious of Severus staying on their side once Lily's death occurred. He obviously had, though, and the headmaster would have known that. She thought that Headmaster Dumbledore just didn't want any one person to have too much knowledge.

If anyone had known he was dying, as an example, the outrage at Severus killing him wouldn't have been natural. Voldemort would wonder why anyone trusted the man who killed the leader of the Light. And, likely, the headmaster would have thought that the hatred, the betrayal had to be real or Voldemort would know it was a ruse.

"I have one question for you, my Hermione."

She smiled at that. She wasn't sure why it warmed her to her soul to hear him call her that. It was the way he said it. A week ago she hadn't been his Hermione. Today she was. "Yes?"

"Why did you let me know it was me you had a crush on? It gave me six years to watch and wonder when it occurred."

She shrugged. Why indeed. She still didn't know what had come over her. Shock? A vulnerable moment?

"I didn't think about what exactly I'd said until later. I was upset and probably a little in shock about the headmaster's death, that I had been so wrong about you. Obviously, too I was very surprised to see a much younger you. To have you talk to me as a peer even if you were still a little snarky. I've used the Room of Requirement a lot since I discovered it. I've never known it to allow time travel. I know, I know, something I don't know. Believe me, I had visions of you hexing me or worse laughing at me when you realized it was you. After that first time, I figured in for a pound," she shrugged.

"I'd never laugh at you. I am flattered. In light of how I treated you, that you felt - feel - that way, that you trust in me when no one else does."

She shrugged. "Anyone who stops to look at all of the facts would come to the same conclusion, Severus, really. Dumbledore has made it known that he trusts you without a doubt. They're letting emotion drive them. You killed Albus Dumbledore. They're furious. Their king is dead. They need someone to blame. The Dark Lord is not here for them to physically blame so they're assigning it to you."

"It has been a long time between conversations for me. I have missed the non-judgmental way you listen to me. I hope Potter and Weasley how fortunate they are that you are their friend."

"You've thought of me?"

"More than I care to admit. At least I figured out early on you'd be my student, and therefore only eleven, when I first saw you. That curbed most of the baser thoughts on when I'd finally get the opportunity to finish what we started."

She looked out the window then. She'd gotten a nice room with quite a view. They weren't high enough for the cars to look like ants but they appeared rather tiny from up here.

"When do you have to be back?"

She didn't want this time with him to end. She knew it had to. She had her job, he had his. Who knew when she'd see him after today? Who knew if she'd see him after today? There was a good chance one - or both - of them might not survive the next little while. She hated thinking it, but things were definitely ramping up. She didn't need a seer to know that.

He looked a little puzzled by her question. She supposed it might have seemed odd, but again it had only been a few days for her.

"I'm fact-finding," he said. "So as long as that takes me I suppose."

"Good."

She stood then, offering him her hand which he took with that questioning look in his eyes deepening.

"Want to continue what you started the other night?"

He scoffed, but stood. "I'm not sure I remember where we left off, my Hermione. Forget how long ago it was, I feel like I was an entirely different person."

"I'll refresh your memory." She pushed him onto the bed then and slid onto his lap, attaching her lips to his.

"You know that I cannot," he whispered when they finally broke for air. "I was not eighteen that time that we, but now…"

"I know," she whispered, finding his neck. He gave a soft groan that made her clench her witchly bits in response.

She, Hermione Granger know-it-all extraordinaire, made him make that sound. It was very heady.

"You are not yet eighteen," he murmured, finding her lips again. She wasn't sure if he was reminding her or himself of that fact just then. "Even if you are of age in wizarding terms."

"I know," she said. "I said continue, not finish."

"I would have that night."

She laughed softly, kissing his throat. "I couldn't let you."

"I wanted you to be my first."

"Severus," she hissed against his neck.

She so did not want to think about that right now. It had been years for him. Days for her. She didn't want to think about how many witches he'd been with between that last time they'd seen one another and now. She'd stopped them! Because it was the right thing to do.

Stupid to be jealous, but God she was. She hated the thought of anyone else … touching him.

"I cannot say that worked out entirely the way I wanted. Mostly, however, I can say that you are the only witch I've ever willingly kissed."

"The only witch?" she asked.

"As I have not been in the muggle world much since leaving Hogwarts other than to visit my mother I think you can safely assume there are no non-witches either."

"That is a relief. If there had been other women I'd be out the door in a heartbeat."

He chuckled. She could tell that her reaction relieved him. Had he been worried? That she'd get mad about that? Good grief, she would never expect him to still be a virgin at thirty-seven years old. That didn't mean she wanted to think about it right now, though. "I will say it again. You are an odd witch."

"It takes one to know one."

"Fair enough," he admitted.

"You will use the mirror?"

"I will try, and I do understand now why you told me you would not."

"Thank you."

He drew away, a hand at her hip. A casual touch, but it was suggestive and possessive at the same time. Possessive, holding her to him, not wanting to let her go. The other he used to trace a path along her jaw to her lips. "I waited," he said. Her hair seemed to almost float with his hand.

"Severus. I never…"

"I know you didn't. I know now you wouldn't have entertained the idea of asking. It's not in you to do that. It was not about you asking me. It was about knowing you were there. Somewhere. Even if I didn't know exactly when. I mean I did the math I knew, but not exactly when I'd get this you. I didn't think about what year would be what school year when I first found your name. I was just excited to have found out your whole name, Hermione Jean. I knew, though, that you would be here."

"I didn't expect. I would never have asked."

"I know and that's why I have."

His hand moved up to her cheek, rubbing along the side of her face and hair. He ran his fingers through it. He seemed to be surprised that the curls were not at all rough or difficult to comb through. The curse of her hair! He sighed, kissing her cheek, rubbing his against her.

"I was given a hallucinogen. The Dark Lord does not like having no … dirt on his followers to extort them with. I was not married and had no prospects. I had no family to extort or blackmail. None who I cared about enough to be blackmailed about anyway. Other than my mother, but thanks to you I managed to get her hidden somewhere safely without anyone aware that I had any part in it. Everyone knows the Prince's disowned her. I never told anyone their relationship changed. I think whoever might have gone to my home looking for her would have thought she'd finally just wisened up and left the old man once I was gone. No one ever did. No one knew exactly where I lived and once I changed sides. It was the one thing I asked Albus for. I wanted my mum protected. So it has been secret kept since before Voldemort's first defeat."

"Right."

"I did have a job," he said. "One where reputations mattered. Even if Albus knew of my true leanings, the Board of Governors and the parents would not have access to that knowledge."

"You were drugged and given to a witch?"

"There was a rumour that there was perhaps something … wrong with me. I never wanted to partake in certain things at the Death Eater gatherings or that came with the attacks."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

He truly was so alone through all of this. He had to watch and participate in things even before he changed sides that were not what he wanted to do. She wasn't stupid enough to believe he didn't partake in some of it. The mudblood comment directed at Lily came from somewhere. Though, really from what he told her today he'd been practically hand-picked and giftwrapped for Voldemort's taking because of his treatment at Hogwarts.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. Actually, you saved me in a way."

"What? Me? How?"

"It was you. I wanted you. I knew eventually such … activities would be expected of me. As you correctly guessed, I did not join to become a rapist or to live the wizarding world's version of being a free-loving hippie. I had my reasons for joining, yes, but sex was not among them. Casual sex did not interest me because I knew that it would not be real, and I wanted more than that. I knew true desire thanks to you and I refused to settle for less. Albus did not know why I was so adamant that I could not engage in them nor would I admit to him my reasons. They would have made him doubt my loyalty. He needed to believe it was Lily driving me. The old man tried to use legilimency on me more than once in the beginning in an attempt to extract that piece of information but I kept it - you - well hidden. He gave me suggestions on how to get out of those activities. They worked for a time. Eventually, though, they no longer did."

His voice hitched here. His eyes were distant. She wondered if he truly remembered she was here, that they were in this hotel room together at this moment.

"I have no idea who she was or even where I was, but in my head it was you. I had long before that particular occasion taken to downing an impotency potion of my own design before going to any gathering. I kept a few on my person at all times in case I was summoned while I was away or too far from my lab. Or if an … event lasted longer than the potion's efficacy. It, you, kept me sane. Knowing you wanted me truly and not as some game or initiation gave me strength to persevere. Even if we had gotten here today and you said you no longer did, the sincerity of your want for me was truly eye opening. To someone who had never had that before it was quite an experience. I knew I had to stay and let her attempt to make me ready and wanting, but even in my drugged state I wanted to flee. You never asked for me to abstain, again I know that you would not have made that request of me. I wanted to and that someone else was touching me felt wrong. It felt like a betrayal. Albus had worked with me to build up a tolerance to things the Dark Lord might use. So while I did feel the effects I was more aware than I would have been ordinarily without that tolerance. She and I were both severely punished. She for her inability to accomplish her seemingly simple assigned task. Me for my inability to find her, his gift to me, arousing. Honestly, I never saw her again so I have no idea if she survived that night. She was a pawn, a toy. I was useful so he wasn't going to kill me. Not to say he hasn't killed followers, but he abstains when it's someone useful."

She cupped his face. "They only tried to make you the once?"

"I confided in the Dark Lord later, privately, that via my Prince bloodline the men are incapable of such things without marriage and even then only with their wives via a curse. A curse due to an ancestor who spread his seed rather abundantly before and after marriage. I assured him if I took a wife he could observe at one point of his choosing not our wedding night. Evidently that was sufficient enough of an explanation so he believed I was not one who preferred the company of men, or something even more perverse such as a student. I was young enough then…"

"Mm," she said, drawing away. She held up her hand. "Student here."

"God, don't say that even in a joking manner. Even back then I had my limits."

"No extracurricular assignments then, Professor Snape?"

He snorted. "One day, when this is all done, I think I could maybe indulge in such a fantasy."

"Deal," she said.

"I make no promises."

She laughed softly, sliding her arms around him, hugging him tightly. In truth she didn't have that type of fantasy about him. It wasn't his position that led to her crush.

"I don't care, Severus. I wouldn't have cared if it was one or one hundred."

She paused then, resting her head against his chest. His hands were at her hair again and she sighed softly against him. She could feel her hair's seeming happiness at having him here to touch it again. It washed through her and was soothing.

"Okay, I might care if it was one hundred. That was one of the reasons I didn't allow Viktor to pursue me once he'd left. I really couldn't trust he'd remain faithful. However, with you, there is an age difference. I knew when I talked to you this week. I knew that the next time I'd see you that you would be, well, you."

"And you?"

"As you said, I'm not eighteen."

"As if anyone in Hogwarts allows that to stop them."

"Oh! No," she said. "Really, that never interested me."

"No? And your crush on me has consisted of what then?"

"Reading, snogging, brewing some potions," she said with a shrug. "The idea of having your undivided attention, even to sit and watch while you brew, while you duel, while you do the foolish wand waving that you make look so elegant."

"This is what interests you?"

She shrugged. "As you say, I'm odd. Is that wrong?"

"No," he said, seeming to glance at his hands.

"Yes, you have nice hands, Severus. Graceful, elegant. I guess men don't want to hear that. Sexy," she said, knowing she was blushing profusely at the admission.

He reached for one of her hands with his, pressing his fingers against hers so their palms touched. His hands were larger than hers. He seemed to watch for a moment.

"And if I hadn't shown up today?"

She shrugged. She hadn't had as long as he had to think about that.

"I don't know. I'm not sure I would have thought you were on his side, but I wouldn't have been able to explain why I can't use the mirror."

"You're leaving? You will not be at Hogwarts next year?"

"Correct," she said softly. "You are the only person, besides Harry and Ron, who knows that for sure at this point. You know I would not be able to anyway."

"I am aware and am glad I guess that you won't even try. Can I assist you?"

"By using the mirror once in a while."

She sighed softly. After this week, talking to him so frequently on a personal level she wasn't sure she wanted to go weeks or even months without talking to him again.

"That's it?"

"If I think of anything else, I'll let you know."

"I wish Albus told me about this task, perhaps I could have done it."

"I don't know why he didn't," she said with a shrug, snuggling against his chest.

Hermione suspected the three of them could use any help they could get. His hand was still at her hair, combing through it. It was letting him. It didn't let everyone in her experience.

"This is nice," she murmured against him.

"I concur," he said, kissing the top of her head.

She could get used to this, and that was scary right now. She wanted nothing more than to stay here in this room. No one knew where they were. They could just stay. She sighed, knowing it wasn't possible.

They each had a job to do.

"You don't hate me?"

He chuckled. "What for? There are so many indiscretions to choose from."

"Snogging you this week?"

"No."

"I was very concerned that you might."

"Obviously."

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com