Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just borrowed them for a while. I promise to put them back when I'm done. Oh, nope, no money either...just for fun.

I want to give a great big thank you hug to EverMystique for combing through this to point out my numerous errors and help me make this presentable for reading. You're the best, thank you!

Severus entered the room, surprised to find it still dark. He lit one of two wall sconces and walked over to the bed to see if she was still there. Hermione was asleep, rolled toward him slightly with one hand placed by her cheek, and the blankets pulled to her chin. One strand of hair lay on her cheek, and he thought about brushing it back for a second. She looked almost pretty when she slept: her eyelashes in two delicate fans against her skin, tiny freckles on her nose, and her lips slightly parted. She had a dreamy kind of smile on her face. He turned his head, contemplating leaving the sheets on one of the benches when she stirred, her head moving slightly.

He held his breath, not wanting to wake her. Hermione seemed to settle back down, and he expelled the breath he'd hadn't realized he'd been holding for so long. She moaned, shifted subtly, sighed contentedly, and inhaled deeply. It was nearly hypnotic watching her. He swallowed and forced himself to breathe. She's only a kid. A little kid, he reminded himself. Hermione inhaled deeply again as if in response to his thoughts, rolled onto her back and stretched, both of her hands rising up to the head of the bed, her legs out straight, and her breasts straining upward against the blankets, which slid down to reveal bare shoulders. His heart skipped a beat. She's naked? No! She wouldn't...couldn't! He swallowed again, fully aware now that she wore next to nothing under the covers, and the part of his anatomy that shouldn't have reacted to a thirteen-year-old girl did. Or fourteen...she might be... Oh, shite! Get a grip! She's just a little girl who will leave at the end of the week!

She relaxed again, and he willed his body to do the same. He stepped forward about to dump his sheets and blanket on her bed when she stretched again, making the blankets slip a bit further, revealing the top curve of her breasts. He nearly choked. Her eyes fluttered open and she mumbled, "Good morning," huskily with a yawn, making his penis stiffen even more.

He dumped his bedding on the foot of her bed and turned quickly before she could notice his shameful reaction to her. "Morning," he said and hurried from the room, praying that no one was in the corridor and would see him. Good, Mother of Merlin! I'm not a pervert! She's...she...oh shite! Gods, I hope she didn't see. He hurried to the loo. It's still early. Everyone's asleep, I hope.

As he'd promised, he'd brought new bedding for her and had hurried off to breakfast. Hermione had stretched and looked up at him, greeting him with a groggy, yawn slurred "good morning," but he'd turned quickly and had dashed away, barely mumbling "morning" back at her. She'd risen, stripped her bed, and replaced the sheets. When she tucked the pillow under her chin, she noticed that the pillowcases had been used, although this time they smelled nice, not rank. There was an herb and smoke scent to his sheets, mixed with his own scent, which she found quite appealing. She inhaled the pillowcase before setting it down. Nah, not bad. His sheets must have been exchanged yesterday. She wondered how often housekeeping exchanged the sheets at Hogwarts. She'd never seen anyone but Mr. Filch doing any cleaning and wondered how the staff managed to move about so efficiently. They must do the dorms while everyone is in classes.

Hermione knew that she'd have to dress quickly. She'd apparently had a bit of a lie in since he'd already been by to see her. She hoped that he'd return soon with breakfast. The robes he had given her smelled different than the sheets he'd just left and were of better quality than he usually wore. He wears second hand ones like Ron does, so whose are these, I wonder? She shrugged, performed a Refreshing Charm on her robes at the foot of her bed, and dressed. He'd found her a brush and a toothbrush, or made them for her since they looked unused, but Hermione found brushing her teeth in a cup of water unsatisfying. Maybe tonight he'd take her to the bathroom again. What I wouldn't give for a sink! Even one like in the Potions classroom.

She went to the desk to sort out the books she'd read from the ones she hadn't and sat down to wait him with Physical Shapeshifting Through Transformation by Phaedrus Goldschlager. She opened up the page to the author's preface and began reading. His take on techniques and the essentials of concentration of purpose was fascinating, if not a bit dry. He reiterated, numerous times, on maintaining one's focus on the desired effect, having unwavering determination to make the change, a firm concentration of the image desired, understanding the foundations of the shape to be transformed into. Nevertheless, Hermione found that he had several good points, which he was obviously trying to drive home. The suggestion that one must know the anatomy of the creature or object not only being changed but that of the desired shape made sense. Professor McGonagall had said that numerous times. But it made Hermione aware that she was woefully ignorant of the anatomical structure of animals, even though she was well versed in her own anatomical structure.

"Thinking of changing your appearance?" Severus asked, frightening Hermione momentarily so that she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"It was on the desk...I didn't hear you come in!" she quickly stammered her explanation.

"Obviously," he said, setting down an enlarged plate of food and crossing his arms as he waited for her to join him. He seemed upset about something, distant. Hermione stared at the impressive amount of food and he frowned. "I still have no idea what you like for breakfast, so I brought a little of everything."

"Toast and jam is usually enough for me," she said, getting up to retrieve her plate and cutlery. "I occasionally have a bit of egg and sausage or bacon." He was sitting, waiting for her when she turned around. "But you must be starving."

He hadn't moved, still sitting with his arms crossed and staring blankly at her. "No," he said, waiting until she took a Scottish egg and slice of toast. "That's it?"

Hermione nodded as she sliced the egg in bites. "It's enough. I don't think I'll be getting loads of exercise over the next few days, so I won't get as hungry as I would normally."

"Oh, right," Severus replied, pulling the plate towards him and picked up his fork. "That's a poorly written book," he said after a while, pointing his fork at the book by her.

"He has some good theories," she replied, still perplexed by his cool attitude.

"How far did you get?" he asked, filling the pitcher with water.

At least he was talking to her. Maybe someone said something to upset him earlier. "Up through the author's notes and into the introduction," she said conversationally, hoping he'd get into a discussion about the book.

"It goes downhill from there," he said dismissively, pouring water into her cup. "Black had the book for ages his fifth year."

She sighed. Apparently he didn't feel like talking about it this morning. "Thank you. I was wondering if you'd be going to the library today?" she asked, looking up at him hopefully.

He smirked at her in a way that was all too familiar but friendlier than his older version. "I go there every day, sometimes twice. It's where I am during the day when I'm not in class. Why? Have you read everything all ready?"

Hermione indicated the books at the end of the table. "Those, yes."

His eyes widened in surprise for a second. "I'll exchange them. You like to read, don't you?"

"Very much," she replied.

"Good," he said, bending over his plate as he ate.

Hermione stretched and yawned, wondering what time it was and how soon Severus would come to see her. He'd said yesterday that he'd have to eat occasionally in the Great Hall or his friends might become suspicious of his absence so he'd been gone most of the day. He'd brought her food at breakfast and lunch but had left shortly after. She'd only seen him at dinner when he'd worked on his essays at the desk with her until his bedtime.

She got up, dressed and made her bed, then looked around. There wasn't much to do. She walked over to the benches and wistfully caressed his cauldron. "I'll ask him if I can use them," she said softly to herself. She looked at the food still under stasis and selected a chicken leg, apple, and cheese for breakfast. She scanned the titles, choosing The 1000 Year Leap: The 100 Great Ideas That Changed the World, and walked back to the bed. She settled down to read, her feet swinging in the air as she bit into the apple. She was reading about Ignatia Wildsmith's discovery of Floo Powder in 1291 when Severus came into the room. He tossed a grey wad of cloth next to her extra robes and picked up his cauldron.

"Hi," she said cheerfully, scrambling from the bed to greet him.

"You might as well read," he said grumpily.

"Why? What are you going to brew? May I help?" she asked, walking over to him.

"Everlasting Floral Fresh Potion and Blue-Eyes Color Change Elixir," he said gruffly. "And no. These are sixth-year potions...way above you."

Hermione bristled at his comment. "I was only offering to help. I am quite capable to follow directions, and I could brew them if I wanted..."

"I don't need help," he said sharply.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" she asked softly, placing her hand on his back.

He stiffened and shrugged her off. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" she asked, bewildered.

"Yeah, nothing," he snapped again, picking up a box from under the bench she'd not noticed before.

She fought back the angry tears at his curtness. He was the only one she could talk to, the only one who even knew she was here. "So why are you snapping at me over nothing?" She was so bored, and she'd looked forward to seeing him, just to have someone to talk to... and he was being a prat.

"I'm not snapping at you," he snapped again, turning to set the box on the desk they shared.

Hermione quickly averted her face so that he wouldn't see the tears that threatened to fall.

"Oh, of all the... Fine," he said exasperatedly. "But if you ruin my potion, I'll spank you."

"You'll what?!" she gasped in shock, whirling around to stare at him, tear-filled eyes forgotten, hardly believing that he'd said 'spank.'

"Oh, for the Mother of Merlin," he said, turning away from her and pulling out indigo leaves from a pouch, and then taking several Phoenician sea snails from his pocket. "Do you know how to extract the mucus secretion from the hypobranchial gland?"

If he thought that by giving her the more disgusting ingredient preparation she'd change her mind, he was sadly mistaken. "Yes, but I'll have to borrow a brass borer from you. I obviously don't have mine."

He handed her the tool with a smirk. "Be sure to get as much as you can."

Hermione suppressed a smug smile and turned the snail over in her hand. She carefully stimulated the lower third of the sail's underside to encourage the creation of the secretion. It would take an hour at least to get him enough secretion to fill the small measuring spoon he set in front of her. She looked up and saw a bottle of saline in his kit. "May I use that, please?"

"Why?" he asked.

She looked at him in surprise. "Because you...I mean my Potions instructor told us that using tiny amounts of saline induces the snails to produce more secretions," she explained, thankfully catching her slip in time. It was true that he'd told her that, but in her time, not his, and she had no idea if he knew that fact yet or not. Oops! Now he does! I have to watch what I say! Damn it. Well, maybe he made the discovery anyway.

"Salt will harm the snail and ruin the secretion," he said, reaching out his hand to take the snail from her.

"No it won't!" Hermione exclaimed as she jerked her hand holding the snail away from him. "Salt...yes. Saline in a teeny amount, won't."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, then widened. "Blimey, you were told that?"

"Yes, in Potions," she admitted and sighed as she sank a bit in her chair. "I'm not supposed to tell you anything about my time."

He handed her the saline. "Well, you did, so you might as well show me."

Hermione poured a small amount out on the cap and touched just the tip of her tool in the saline, flicked her wrist to eliminate the excess and gently rubbed the tip on the snail's underside. The secretion oozed out around the borer. She held the tip of the tool over the measuring spoon and softly said the spell to make the secretion slide off and into the spoon. Severus watched her without any hint of expression to give away his thoughts, nodded once and turned back to his shredding of the indigo leaves.

An hour later when the potion was finished, he set it to cool and walked over to pick up his bag. "I have class," he said and turned to go. "I'll bottle the potions later."

"I can do that for you, if you like," she offered sweetly.

Might as well. "Fine," he relented. He reached under the benches and pulled out an old crate. Hermione's eyes went wide when she saw it materialize. "What? I use this room to brew my potions because my dorm mates don't like the smells."

"No! I just don't remember that being there when I stacked the benches," she said, accepting the crate of bottles.

"It was under the desk. I moved them to the wall before I made your bed," he explained, wondering why it would surprise her that he had extra bottles in his potions lab. "Look, no one comes in here because I'm willing to brew potions for them. The Everlasting Floral Fresh and Blue-Eyes Color Change Elixir are for two of the girls in seventh-year. They're paying me for them."

"Okay," she replied with a shrug. "I didn't ask you or expect you to explain. I was just amazed, that's all."

He shook off her remark. "I cannot come back until late. Avery wants some help with something, so I can't come back until tonight."

"That's fine, I'll read or something," she said with a smile.

The 'or something' bothered him. So far, she'd been cooperative and had stayed in the room as he'd asked. "Look, you cannot go out and..."

"Be seen. I know, I was only teasing you," she'd finished his sentence, although that was not what he'd been about to say.

"I'll exchange the books you read for others tomorrow," he offered, hoping it would keep her from going crazy. "At this rate you'll have read every book in the library."

"That is my personal goal," she replied, smirking at him.

Somehow he actually believed her. "See you later."

"Bye."

He shook his head and left. He hoped Avery believed that he'd brewed both potions in an hour and a half, but he doubted it. So far Rosier and Mulciber hadn't noticed his absences, but that was pure luck, and Severus knew he was rarely this lucky. Thortenson was starting to talk to Severus more, but Miss Linnet kept him sufficiently occupied as of late. No, the only one noticing, was Avery.

Hermione woke that morning and made her bed quickly. She'd found the grey flannel nightshirt Severus had left her and was once again struck by his thoughtfulness. He'd been right; the room was cold, especially at night. She'd started using his robes, since hers were a bit rank after wearing them for a few days. She tried washing her knickers, and they were drying on one of the desks in the corner. A draft wafted up under the robe when she'd moved around, and it made her feel naughty, but it couldn't be helped. She only had the one pair. She'd changed his cup into a chamber pot that she'd stashed under her bed and cleaned it after each use. At least he'd thought to bring her a roll of toilet paper and an old cauldron. Which reminded her, she'd need another roll if she had to stay much longer, and neither of them seemed to know how long she'd be here.

She sat at her desk and waited for Severus to arrive after breakfast as had become his normal routine.

Severus was so different from what she'd expected. Whereas Professor Snape stood tall and erect, exuding confidence, his younger self was usually stooped, wary, and suspicious. Well, maybe the suspiciousness wasn't all that different. This Severus seemed more affable, but he still didn't like to talk about himself. He did, however, quote books and references when they talked, especially when it became a heated discussion. And he liked to debate, frequently taking a devil's-advocate position on the subject. He was so well read, so smart, and, in a way, funny. He was snarky, had a sharp wit, and a dry humor. He was guarded around her unless they talked about academic things or when she told him about things that had gone on in London during his time...her past. He was greatly amused that she loved the Beatles, Chicago, Elton John and Fleetwood Mac. They both liked the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and he had laughed at her because she'd refused to see Jaws.

Hermione tried so hard not to add to his burden, but each day when he'd look at the Time-Turner, he'd scowl and put it back on her makeshift shelves.

Severus watched her from between the curtains of his hair. Hermione had her head resting in her hand, the other one holding the edge of the page ready to turn it as soon as she reached the end. She had a cute, pert nose and soft, curving eyebrows over her warm, brown eyes that were so trusting they reminded him of a doe's. She was smart...too smart...and liked to show off what she knew. She was a voracious reader and read everything and anything he brought her. Twice now, he caught her trying spells that were way above her level, managing to accomplish the difficult charms.

He casually wondered how many of the spells she'd tried from the books he'd brought her. She was quite good at Charms and Transfiguration, loved Arithmancy and Runes, even Alchemy. He wondered what other subjects she was taking in school. Knowing the wide selection of books he'd brought her, there wasn't a subject, discipline, or practice of magic that didn't interest her, except for the Dark Arts. He'd been careful at first to bring her books that had the number three and four on the shelving code, but he'd seen her frequently reading his books he'd left in the room.

Not for the first time he wondered how his older self knew Hermione. She was Muggle-born; she'd confessed that to him her third day. Magic simply enthralled her. She had spent the summer hols with her parents, Christmas hols her first year skiing, and her last Christmas at Hogwarts. She'd gone on and on describing the decorations: everlasting ice cycles, mistletoe, the Christmas garlands, the Christmas trees, and the magical crackers as if he'd never seen any of these things. She was also quite fond of Hagrid, the Keeper of the Keys and grounds keeper. Nevertheless, he'd enjoyed the way her eyes had lit up as she'd talked.

Truth was that if she was a few years older and not from another time, he'd have really wanted to get to know her. She was bright, but way too trusting and far too open. She was bossy, but smart and fun to rile up. She wasn't conventionally pretty, but he wasn't anything to look at either, so they complemented each other. Her hair was always an unruly mass of curls, and she had stains on her fingers from the ink she used... Her fingers were long and straight though, and her nails were nice, but her front teeth were really big. Of course, he had horrible teeth, so he shouldn't have cared about hers.

He scowled and forced himself to read his book. She was most likely leaving tomorrow anyway. The sands in the Time-Turner had finally started to look like she'd described them, just not as shiny as she'd remembered them being. So, if by tomorrow the sands looked right, she would leave, and that was that. He'd fulfilled his promise to himself, and his life could go back to normal.

He looked at her again. It's too bad you are not from my time, he thought again. No, this is best. She wouldn't survive the war anyway. She'd never submit to being subservient to pure-bloods and certainly considered herself equal to them. She was due for a rude awakening someday. Not today though.

Hermione's hand moved to reach for her cup, and he immediately lowered his eyes to his book. He flipped the page so that she wouldn't know he'd been woolgathering about her.

~ T. B. .C. ~

Prompts used:

9. Hello, It's Me

a. Snape has a Time-Turner, and he 'bumps' into a later/earlier self as he's going about his day-to-day business. What happens next? What do they get up to?

8. Fix a Wrong, See a Right

a. Someone is given a Time-Turner and instructions to use it. (Hermione) Only once when using it, a mistake is made in counting or a slip of fingers, and he/she goes forward/backward in time. Who does the person meet/see? Your choice. How would he/she fix a wrong once back in the right time?

1. Suggestion: You could have someone steal a Time-Turner.