Chapter 10

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.

Many thanks to my betas, EverMystique and DuchessOfArcadia, for helping me clean up my many mistakes, and to Pookah for the shoulder and friendly advice. I really appreciate it more than you can possibly know. I'd be ashamed to show my story to anyone without your invaluable help.

Hermione was having a horrible week...well, a horrible couple of weeks, actually. Ron had been so mad at her over Scabbers' disappearance that he'd refused to speak to her. She knew that her cat hadn't eaten him. Crooks didn't eat his kills; he liked to show them to her so she'd be impressed with his prowess and bravery. He always expected a good scratch behind his ears and a few cat treats in exchange for his gifts. She'd tossed too many gnomes, rats, lizards, birds, and other small animals in the bin to know that Crooks hadn't caught Scabbers. He'd even brought her a Doxy and a Bowtruckle once.

Also, after all her hard work in helping Hagrid prepare for his day before the Wizengamot, Mr. Malfoy had convinced...or bribed...the members of the Wizengamot into accepting that Buckbeak was dangerous, and Hagrid had lost his case. Hermione had never felt more disappointed. She had spent a few hours every night in the library, searching for anything to help Hagrid win his plea for the hippogriff. Nevertheless, it had been for naught; Buckbeak had been sentenced to death, and that had been quite a blow to both Hagrid and herself. Of course, Hagrid appealed...she'd forced him to stop crying long enough to file the paperwork.

Truth was, she was repeating days again just to get everything completed on time. There simply wasn't enough hours in the day to get everything done that she needed to do. She was tired all day and so exhausted every night, so much so, she'd slept through Charms.

Charms! One of her favorite subjects!

She'd even lost her temper and slapped Malfoy. Well, truthfully, that had been a highlight of her week, although Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape had both had a stern word to say about that.

And she had stormed out of Divination, although truthfully, Severus had been right. She should have dropped that class ages ago.

And the chatter in the common room over the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch game was driving her batty. There was so much homework for Easter hols that Hermione felt totally swamped, and the pressure was making her so short tempered, she honestly thought she'd crack.

At least she and Ron were friends again. Truthfully, she'd missed his sense of humor and friendship.

Even though Harry had managed to balance his time between her and Ron, he, too, had thought that Crooks had killed Scabbers. So, considering everything going on, most of their time was spent in the library revising, which was not Harry's favorite thing to do even though it did improve his marks.

In addition, regardless of the fact that her second and third favorite subjects were on Thursdays, it was her least favorite day of the week. Even without Divination, she still had Muggle Studies, Arithmancy, and Transfiguration in the morning and Care of Magical Creatures and Defense Against the Dark Arts in the afternoon. Of all her classes, Defense was the one she struggled in most, despite the many hours she spent revising for lessons and...to rub salt in the wound...it was the one class the boys excelled in.

Hermione left Muggle Studies and turned to duck into a corner of the corridor to pull out her essay and equations for Arithmancy so she'd have them ready to turn in. Due to her schedule, Hermione had added an Extension Charm to the inside of her bag and on the pouches inside it as well. That way she had everything, all her notebooks, revision journals, and books for each class as well as a few extra books to help her with her Care of Magical Creatures lessons. She was tired of fighting with her book, The Monster Book of Monsters, although she thought she was almost taming the thing. However, that was probably wishful thinking. At least she hadn't lost a finger yet like Amanda Stebbins and Luis Spenser had. Apparently, Madam Pomfrey had been able to grow their fingers back easily overnight though.

She stifled a yawn and pulled out her Time-Turner to repeat the last hour. She adjusted the rings and then stood there as she stared at the setting. She still hadn't found enough material for her Potions essay, her Charms essay needed another nine inches, and now she had another seven-foot essay due this week for Muggle Studies. She also had twenty more Arithmancy equations to do. She groaned inwardly. Each one of her classes had assigned essays, even Care of Magical Creatures. She fought back the urge to yawn again, which made her eyes momentarily tear up.

She looked at the Time-Turner and adjusted the rings to go back an extra hour, then changed it to go back a whole day. She could take a nap and have eight hours to write Professor Snape's essay... Or she could do two days so she'd have time to catch everything up and still have time to revise. She sighed, which turned into a yawn, decided that was too risky to repeat the last two days, and turned it back.

"Oi, there's that Mudblood!" she heard Crabbe sneer from a few feet away.

She dropped the Time-Turner, turned her head, and saw Crabbe headed her way, followed by Malfoy, Parkinson, and Goyle. Unfortunately, Crabbe and Goyle both had expressions of malice, and Malfoy and Parkinson both had arrogant sneers that didn't bode well for her.

"McGonagall's precious mongrel pet," Parkinson sneered. "We should teach her how to properly respect her betters!"

She knew they were still really ticked about her slapping Malfoy. As if they hadn't done worse to me! She looked around and realized that she was alone, a prime target, mentally kicking herself for taking so much time.

Hermione exhaled an expletive and walked away to avoid a confrontation with the Slytherins, not wanting to deal with their taunts...or worse. She heard heavy footfalls and the click of Pansy's heels approaching her at a run. Not wanting to be caught alone in a corridor with the Slytherins, she ducked into a classroom doorway and pushed the door open with her shoulder as she activated the Time-Turner. She appeared several seconds later, facing a class of first-years as a hand grasped her robes and pulled her back into the corridor.

"No, you don't," Severus sneered from behind her back.

Hermione made a startled cry as he leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Play along," and then said a little louder, "Blimey. Look, you don't have to hide; I'm not going to do anything to you."

Hermione's mind whirled as she realized who exactly was behind her and that she had apparently bounced back too far in time again.

Severus turned her by her shoulders so that she faced down the corridor. "Get off to class, before you're late." He gave her a slight shove on her back, which she took to mean that she was to head down to the dungeons.

Hermione nodded as she realized that there were still several students in the corridor, rushing off to their lessons. Thankfully, none seemed to be paying them too much attention, just a few sideways glances as they hurried by.

"Don't run. I want to get you safely tucked away, but I don't want to attract any unnecessary attention. So walk at the normal pace you do when going to class. I'll be right behind you," Severus instructed softly.

She said, "All right," and walked as quickly as she could without breaking into an all out run. By the time they reached the end of the corridor and started descending the stairs to the Entrance Hall, there were only a few stragglers moving about. Severus was one or two steps behind her on the stairs, both of them keeping close to the wall.

They nearly made it to the bottom of the stairs to the Entrance Hall when a voice called out, "Oi, you there, Slytherin, what are you doing with one of my Gryffindors?" Hermione turned, realizing that the girl was chasing after them by the clacking sound of her shoes on the floor as she approached.

"Go on! Password's dragonwort," Severus hissed and turned around as Hermione continued down the stairs. "I'm not doing anything with her. She's just going in the same direction I am," she heard Severus snap at the girl.

Hermione didn't look back; she walked purposefully across the Entrance Hall, heading for the stairs to the dungeons.

"Then why were you following her?" the Gryffindor girl called out, the clomping sounds of her shoes on the stones of the stairs indicating Hermione she was still determined to confront Severus.

"I wasn't following her. I'm headed to the dungeons, if you must know. Not that it's any of your business where I'm going," Severus sneered. The sounds of the other girl's shoes stopped. Hermione snuck a quick peek back before she reached the stairs in time to see Severus turn his back on the girl. She heard him snarl, "Bloody Gryffindors," as he walked away from her.

"We have to protect our own! If your lot weren't always attacking us, I wouldn't be concerned, Snape!" the girl yelled after him, trying to catch up to Severus again. "Why were you bothering that third-year, Snape?"

But Severus was faster than she was and covered more ground. "I wasn't!" he growled angrily as he stormed across the Entrance Hall.

"Then why was she running away from...Snape!" she persisted.

Hermione quickly made her way down the narrow staircase, but Severus caught up to her before she reached the bottom. The Gryffindor girl's footfalls echoed in the hall above them. Hermione ran for the room where Severus had hidden her before.

He was faster though, and he reached the door before she did. "Inside quick."

Hermione hurried inside, dropped her bag and turned to face him. "What was all that about?"

"Bloody prefect," he sneered closing the door and casting a spell on it. He indicated for her to be quiet as he leaned his ear against the wood. After several long seconds, he turned to face her. "Hermione, you should know, things around the castle are escalating somewhat, especially amongst the upper years. Gryffindors...most of them are siding with the resistance, at least I think they are. Slytherin is divided; some are getting riled up about the Muggle suppression and about being forced to hide ourselves. There are some that even go so far as to hate all Muggle-borns. But then there are a few that think that this Lord Voldemort is going about things the wrong way, and he'll only incite the Muggles to reinstate the Inquisitions against wizardkind. It's not just us either. Ravenclaws are divided too, and some Hufflepuffs, well, not many of them...from what I've seen, most of the Hufflepuffs want to stay neutral. But I hear things and... Nearly every day you read about killings, disappearances, Inferi attacks, raids, and such."

"It's this war right?" Hermione asked. "You-Know-Who."

Severus crossed his arms and leaned against the door. "Yeah, it is. What do you know about him?"

Hermione lowered her head, wondering how much she should tell him. "Only what I read in the papers and in books," she said nervously. "You didn't want to know about things from my time, remember? We've always avoided talking about it."

"Books? So in your time the war is over?"

Hermione shrugged, then looked at his shoes, and nodded as she bit her lip. "You've always insisted that I don't tell you anything about my timeline, right?" She looked up, let her lip slip free, and swallowed against her nervousness. "I really shouldn't say anything, you know, in case it changes things too much... But why ask me now? It's too risky, isn't it?" She had been thinking about this ever since Professor Snape had mentioned she'd make another backward jump in time...that she'd see him again...this Severus.

Hermione had really considered telling him, even made a list of pros and cons that she could tell him what had happened and maybe save Harry's parents. However, she knew something had happened that night, something that had saved Harry but killed You-Know-Who. Then Hermione had remembered the storyline of The Time Machine by H.G. Wells and seeing the movie. The scientist had not able to save his wife's life. The time paradox theory. It had driven her crazy. Finally, Hermione had talked to Dumbledore about it. He'd listened to her, even read her pro and con list, and then told her she couldn't tell Severus anything. It had been the most reassuring yet totally frustrating visit.

"Severus, if I tell you anything that I remember, then it might not happen that way at all. If you do anything to change what I know, then my timeline changes, and then what I tell you will happen...won't...or will, but in a different way, or not happen that way at all," she tried to explain.

"No, you're right," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Damn, but...no, you're right." He looked at her, and Hermione knew that he really wanted to ask her anyway. "But it would be nice to know who wins."

She dreaded the questions, wondering how much she'd change if she did tell him anything. She frequently saw Professor Snape talking to Headmaster Dumbledore, and they looked like they were confidants or friends, not just colleagues. She knew that Professor Snape had been Dumbledore's spy because Dumbledore had stood up for Snape during his trial. Moreover, Professor Snape did more patrols than the other professors did, unless it only seemed that way. Professor Snape was usually the one she, Ron, and Harry were trying to avoid when they were sneaking around the castle at night. Well, him and Filch.

"If I tell you who wins, something that did or should have happened might not. Then when I go back, it might not be my timeline I go back to, but a different one, one in which I might not know what happened... It's confusing," she said and tried to stifle another yawn as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other under his intense stare.

"Hermione, you look exhausted. Take a nap," he suggested, pushing off the door. "I'll be back after Transfiguration."

"Yeah, I'd really like to," she admitted, picking up her bag and hitching it up on her shoulder. It was really heavy with all the extra books and the clothes she'd stuffed in it for Care of Magical creatures that afternoon. Well, what would have been her afternoon if she hadn't miscalculated again. Although when I go back, I will probably be in time for my Arithmancy lesson...if I go back to my own timeline.

She turned around to thank Severus, but he was gone. She walked over to the bed, dropped her bag as she kicked off her shoes and removed her robes, laying the robe on the foot of the bed. She climbed up and fell back on the pillows, yawning again. She was asleep the moment her body relaxed on the mattress.

Hermione was still asleep when Severus returned. As soon as he'd stepped through the magical barrier he'd set up around her bed and saw her, he smiled. She looked angelic lying there. She was turned toward him, her hair splayed out around her head, and her hands were tucked under her cheek. She had removed her robes and shoes, wearing a white blouse, skirt, and socks. Severus watched her for a few minutes before he pulled the extra blanket up over her. Hermione stirred as he leaned over her, as if aware of him, still fast asleep. She had a sweet smile on her face, and he smiled at her in return. He wondered if she was dreaming and, if so, what about. He straightened up and crossed his arms, just watching her sleep.

She was right; he shouldn't ask her about his future. Severus had been distracted all through Transfiguration, thinking about it as he rationalized the ramifications. His older self had also warned him about messing with the timeline. His older self had said that in two of her three jumps in his timeline had been disastrous; one when she's been beaten to death by his housemates and another when she'd spent a month with Lily. Neither of those things happened in his timeline, but they were in the diary his older self had given him. He hadn't said what had happened during her third one. So if Hermione did or said anything to change his timeline, it could be disastrous for her, and she was right, it might not happen as she would say they would anyway. If she did say something awful had happened, he might be compelled to change it, if he could, and her timeline would be different. Who knew what she'd return to? No, she was right; he just had to keep off that subject.

Severus walked over to his worktable and peered into his cauldron to check that no dust had fallen in on the lacewing flies he had stewing. His potion was the expected color and consistency. He checked his timer. It was nearly time to add the ground sandfish scales. He picked up the jar next to his elbow to examine the knotgrass that he had picked during the last full moon and that had been pickling in salt, lime solution, and the juices from his leeches for the last three weeks. He checked the jar holding his leeches next, and was glad to see that they were still moist enough under the Stasis Charm. Everything looked fine.

He carefully measured out the sandfish scales. When the thin red hands of the timer hit the number twenty-four, the timer made a soft chiming sound. He sifted the flakes into the cauldron so they landed softly on his slowly simmering potion. He checked his directions and did the calculations to see when the leeches and powdered bicorn horn would need to be added. He smiled; the knotgrass would be added at dinnertime, followed by the leeches an hour later. The powdered bicorn horn would be added in two days. He rotated the red hour and minute hands on his timer to match the amount of time needed until the next step and tapped the gold knob on the top of his timer, then set it down carefully on the worktable.

He looked up at the empty space where he knew that Hermione's bed was and decided to go revise in the common room. She'd be fine, and he was coming back in a few hours anyway. She had looked so stressed and exhausted. No wonder, the chit's trying to take every class Hogwarts offers! He turned, smiling at her foolishness. He had to admire her tenacity though; it was impressive that she wanted to learn everything all at once.

When he returned at dinner, carrying a tray and a pile of books, Hermione came out to greet him. "Hi," she greeted him as he dropped them on the table.

She stretched, her hair tousled, and her face crinkled from sleep, looking too adorable in his opinion for a little girl. "I brought lamb chops and sprouts, and loads of books for you," he stated dumbly as Hermione braided her hair, making her breasts strain against the buttons of her blouse. He turned his gaze away, embarrassed. "Go ahead and eat," he said, going over to the worktable rather than watch her. Unfortunately there wasn't anything for him to do; he'd already added the knotgrass before dinner, and he had another fifty minutes to go on his timer before he'd add the leeches.

When he turned around, Hermione was finishing setting the table for dinner, which made him smile. It was like playing house, eating meals with her. Well, what he'd always wanted his family life to be like. She waited until he sat down to start eating. Once again he was struck with the thought that she must come from a well off home since she had such proper manners most of the time.

"Tell me what you did in Transfiguration?" she asked, cutting her sprouts into bite size pieces.

"In N.E.W.T. level we either try repeating all the old spells nonverbally, or do more complicated transfigurations like changing a rock into a dog," he said and laughed when her eyes grew large and her smile broadened. "No, I'm not going to show you how to do that." Her smile instantly faded, and he chuckled at her disappointment. "It's not easy. I had trouble getting all the dog parts right."

"I had a hard time transforming a teapot into a tortoise," she said between bites. "I keep getting the lilac pattern on the shell."

"We can practice that after dinner if you want to," he suggested absentmindedly as he looked over his shoulder at the timer.

However after dinner, Severus pulled out his books to work on his essay, so Hermione did too. He was amazed at the number of books she was pulling out of her school bag and began picking them up to glance at the titles. "Are all these for your...ouch!" he started to say before the book in his hands bit him. "What the fuck was that?"

"Oh, be careful with that one," she said, looking up and hurrying around the table. "That's my Care of Magical Creatures book." She clasped his hand to look at his fingers, ignoring the book growling on the table.

Severus couldn't take his eyes off the book, baring its fanged binding at him around the leather strap supposedly to keep it closed. "That's your book for class? Is your teacher mental, or what?" He was so startled by the book, bound by a thick, brown belt, growling at him and trying to scuttle off the table, that he scarcely noticed her examining his hand until he turned to look at her. "Er, my hand is fine, Hermione. I was only startled by it."

"It has a mean bite unless you know how to calm it," she said, releasing his hand to grab the book before it fell off the table. "Professor Hagrid thought they were funny. You have to stroke it to be able to read it...I suppose it is funny in a way. But it really fits in with his lessons... You'd have to know him."

Severus was stunned, watching her pet the book. "Do you mean the grounds keeper, Rubeus Hagrid...he's your teacher?"

The book had calmed down and was purring contentedly in her arms. "Yes." She set the book down and pulled out her Arithmancy equations and Astrology charts.

He stared at the odd book, watching it settle down as if to take a nap, and then narrowed his eyes as he turned to look at her. "Hermione, what year level are you?"

She looked up at him, her brows scrunched together in a questioning expression. "I'm in third-year," she replied as if he should've known that.

Severus swore as he ran his hand through his hair. "And here I am teaching...showing you...holy shit! I could have depleted you...drained you or caused you... Why didn't you tell me?!" He was surprised, no, gobsmacked. He'd thought all along that she had to be a fourth-year; the things she knew, how easily she did the fourth-year stuff he'd been showing her. "Heck, we've even done fifth- and sixth-year...what was I thinking!" He stopped pacing to stare at her, really looking at her.

"I don't understand? What's the problem?" she asked, clearly confused, watching him with a concerned expression.

"As a third-year, you're still learning the basic foundation principles of magic, that's what! Only the exceptionally gifted students can do spells two years advanced for their age, and it's really rare if someone can do spells three or more levels above their age level without suffering from depletion, especially in your first few years. And I've been doing just that with you!" Of course, he'd always managed to do spells that were three and four years advanced for his age, but that was beside the point. He had been risking her wellbeing and hadn't even thought to ask her age. "You're in third?" He couldn't get his mind around that for some reason. She just seemed... older, more mature and together than the little third-year girls in his house.

She had been watching him, apparently not understanding what he was saying or comprehending the situation. "Yes, I'm in third. Headmaster Dumbledore had Madam Pomfrey examine me after I returned to my time, the last time, and she said I was fine, magically sound, and she gave me a clean bill of health."

"Well, thank Merlin for that!" he said, turning the chair around and straddling it, crossing his arms on the back. He stared at her, his face unreadable.

Hermione started to fidget with her papers, and then she pulled out several journals, notebooks, and finally a quill and ink from her bag. Severus watched her, smirking as she organized herself for revision. She looked up and asked, "What?" the same time his timer went off.

"Oh, nothing. You surprised me, that's all. Not many people surprise me," he replied, getting up to tend his potion. He strained off the knotgrass, chopped it up, and dumped it into the cauldron, waiting a full minute before stirring so that it would warm up in the surface oils and blend in better.

"What are you brewing?" she asked as she walked over and stood by his side, peering into his cauldron too. "Oh! You're brewing Polyjuice Potion."

"Yes," he said, counting off his rotations with his stirring rod. He turned to look at her when he withdrew the rod and picked up his knife to dice the leeches. "How do you know that? Most advanced students don't know the potion well enough to recognize it."

"I've made it," she stated, leaning in to see, but not close enough to actually be in his way, except Severus wasn't used to anyone peering over his shoulder as he brewed. Well, anyone except Slughorn or Lily. He dumped the leeches in and started stirring again.

"You're at the second stage, aren't you?" she asked as he finished off the last ten.

At least she knows not to interrupt me while stirring. He set down his stirring rod, flicked his hair out of his eyes and turned to stare at her, crossing his arms. "Yes... You made Polyjuice Potion? When?" She is lying to me. She has to be lying.

"Ah huh," she said, nodding to affirm her statement. "I made it last year."

Now he knew she was lying to him. Polyjuice wasn't even mentioned except in advanced Potions books, and the directions were in the Restricted Section. "You're pulling on my broom! You said you're in third year."

"Yes," she said, nodding and looking at him earnestly, her eyes meeting his with an expression he'd normally have read as open honesty.

"And you made this in your second year?" he asked, still not sure what to believe. Her soft brown eyes were staring directly into his, and there wasn't any subterfuge in her expression. "That's impossible."

"Well, I did," she said, turning away from him.

He could hear the hurt in her voice. He made her turn around and tipped her face up to look in her eyes. He could see that she wasn't saying it to try and impress him. Her expression was guileless, and her gaze still held his unwaveringly. "Do you have any idea how complicated this potion is? How many subtle techniques are needed to make this potion come out right, let alone perfectly? The book doesn't even have all the subtle variations mentioned... Did the potion come out right?"

Hermione tried to move her head in the affirmative within his grip of her chin. "My two mates transformed into the people they were impersonating."

He smirked at her, his laugh coming out as a bemused chuckle. "You didn't even try your own potion? Shame on you." He let go of her chin. "A Potion master always tests his own potions himself before subjecting a friend, or any test subject, first."

"I did take it," she said, grasping his arm, her eyes practically pleading for him to believe her as she bit her lip. She was so upset that her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"And who did you turn into?" he asked, crossing his arms, still finding her claim unbelievable.

Hermione's eyes became huge, and she turned away but not before he saw her face redden in shame. "It was a cat's hair... I turned into a cat."

Severus couldn't help it. He was laughing so hard he bent over and braced his hands on his knees. Hermione turned to storm off, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her. "Oh, that's priceless," he said, hugging her with one arm while wiping a tear with the other. "Sorry." He let go and wiped his face, pushing his hair back again. "Merlin, I'd have given anything to see that."

She braced her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing angrily. "Well, you'll not be seeing it, as I will never make that mistake again."

"I should hope not," he said, regaining his composure. "Tell you what, I'll get my stuff, and we'll revise together. Later you can help me brew. Merlin, you're a corker, Hermione, a real piece of work."

She crossed her arms and then turned to plop herself down in her chair. "I don't like being laughed at," she mumbled as she picked up her quill.

He sat on the chair, his arms crossed on the back again and his chin resting on them. "I'm sorry. I've heard about that mistake being made, but I've never... You have to admit it's funny."

"Coughing up fur balls isn't funny," she said, then looked up at him and smiled. "But yes, I suppose. I just hate being the brunt... I'm sorry. It is funny."

Severus got up to get his bag, still laughing about her mishap, and amazed that she had made the potion. She did. She actually did. He turned to look at her as he picked his bag off the floor. She really is something, isn't she?

~ T. B. C. ~