Chaper 10: Adventure Upon Adventure

Author's Note: I am so excited to be working with my beta reader and XXX from staff of The Petulant Poetess. These two wonderful women have given me help and guidance, inspiration and support. My story has benefited immensely from their care and expertise. When I consider that this is nearly the end of the Challenge, and try to imagine the work load that XXX is facing, her patience and forbearance with me are even more appreciated. My original beta continues to encourage and inspire, and I am grateful for her support, also.

As always, my debt to J.K. Rowling is cannot be measured. I make no profit from my variations on her theme and claim no ownership of anything that belongs to her. I am profoundly grateful to be able to borrow her wonderful universe and characters.

To my readers, it's all for you. Your generosity and kindness recognize no bounds, and I thank you.

Chapter Ten: Adventure upon Adventure

Office of the Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogsmeade, Scotland

When they got to the office, Winky appeared with a laden tea tray, and Ron sat down on the couch before the fire, helping himself to some of the little cakes and sandwiches. He still had the same enormous appetite he'd had as a teenager, though Hermione reflected with fond amusement that his manners had improved.

"Shall I pour?"

Without waiting for an answer, she poured a cup tea for Ron, just as he liked it, her actions automatic after so many years. She handed it to him then poured a cup of tea and filled her own plate.

She tried to draw him into conversation as they ate, but stopped when she realized Ron wasn't responding to her comments.

"Ron, is something wrong?"

His face flushed till it nearly matched the color of his hair, and he abruptly set his cup and plate down on the tea table. In the sudden silence, the clink of china on wood seemed extremely loud. Neither Ron nor Hermione noticed the portraits around them opening their eyes and leaning ever so slightly towards them.

"Yeah, there is, actually. Bloody hell, this is hard to say, Hermione." His voice had grown hoarse, and he looked down at his hands, unable or unwilling to meet her gaze.

Hermione leaned forward and placed her own cup and plate on the table, fearing to drop them from suddenly nerveless fingers.

"What is it, Ron?"

"Hermione, I know that what I say is going to hurt like hell, and I hope you'll believe that I didn't do this on purpose. I've been... There's a girl. Bloody hell! I've been having an affair." Ron looked across the table at her, and she could see the pain and shame in his eyes. Suddenly her chest felt tight and she couldn't speak.

"I didn't set out to do this, and I know it's my own fault, 'Mione. It's not your fault at all." He dropped his eyes, not wanting to see the pain his words had caused.

She sat back on the sofa, pressing her hand over her mouth to hold back the ugly things she knew she should not say. When she was certain she had herself under control, she asked, "Who is it? Is she someone I know? Someone we know together?"

He drew in a deep breath and shook his head.

"No, not this one. Some of the others," he kept his eyes down. "Some of the others are people we both have known."

"Not this one? How many have there been, Ron?" There was no holding back that question; it burst from her lips as if the words had a life of their own.

"There've been three that were serious."

"Sweet Merlin! If there were three serious affairs, how many casual ones were there? Ron, when did this happen? How long have you been unfaithful?" She didn't want to hear the answer but she couldn't stop herself from asking.

"Since I got the General Manager's job and started traveling."

Ron had been General Manager of the All England Quidditch League for more than five years. All that time, Ron had been seeing other women, sleeping with other women, and she hadn't had any idea. Her thoughts whirled around in her head. Thankfully, she seemed to have gone numb, though. It's like watching a train wreck, she thought. It's horrible but I can't look away.

"Why now?"

"Why tell you now, you mean?"

She nodded.

"My... That is, Caroline is pregnant, and she plans to keep the baby. I can't bear to have her terminate the pregnancy, Hermione. I think it's wrong, and my mum would hex me into next year if she knew I let that happen. You know Mum."

"I understand. That's never the best option." Hermione had dealt with her share of sixth-and seventh-year students who'd forgotten to use contraception potions or charms. Most of the girls she'd known who'd terminated their pregnancies regretted it bitterly afterward. Your mum will still hex you inside out when she finds out you've been cheating, she thought, but didn't speak the words out loud.

"I've come to ask you for an uncontested divorce, Hermione. I don't want to hurt you or Rose or Hugo. But I... Well, I love Caroline, and I want to do right by her and the baby. As right as I can under the circumstances."

She bowed her head, thinking He has always been this way for as long as I have known him. He knows the right thing to do and is basically decent, but sometimes he just doesn't think. And when he doesn't stop to think, he winds up making a mess of his personal life. She knew he really had no malice in him, she admitted sadly. He just didn't stop to think. So horribly sad that this time, his life wasn't the only one being messed up.

"Does she work?"

So far, the numbness was holding her anger in check. She supposed she should be grateful for that.

She works for the Department of Magical Games and Sports. That's how we met, actually."

"She lives in Ireland, right?"

"Caroline has a cottage near the Quidditch grounds. We'll stay there till after the baby is born, and then buy a bigger place."

"What about Hugo and Rose?"

"Caroline loves kids. I think she'll get on with them very well. We're already planning to get a house big enough so Hugo and Rose can each have their own room. I figure they can be with me and Caroline on some of the school hols, or they can go visit your parents or stay at the Burrow, as we've always done. They'll be here with you during the school year. I'll visit them here when I have time. If you don't mind, that is. And if it isn't too disruptive for them."

A swirling vortex of anger, shame, and hurt was building up behind her eyes, but she forced herself to nod. His plans were really quite sensible. Turning into a shrieking banshee would only cause a commotion, and she fervently wanted to avoid that.

"What about the London flat?" Hermione and Ron had bought a flat in London when they married, and they still maintained it, though neither of them stayed there much any more. With Hermione and the children at Hogwarts and Ron in Ireland, the flat was usually empty except during the school holidays.

Ron had apparently thought of this already.

"That's really up to you. I don't use the flat much anymore. The team really likes the new training grounds, and I don't see us moving back to London. The flat is handy, but I can always stay at the Leaky Cauldron when I need to be in town."

Hermione still couldn't muster up any anger. I'm sitting here discussing the end of my marriage as if I were talking about making holiday arrangements, she thought to herself. Even the incongruity of the situation couldn't break through the numbness she felt.

"I shall make arrangements to sell the flat in London then. We'll have to move everything into storage."

"I'll help with that as much as I can, Hermione. And I want you to keep the money we get for it. We've had it a long time, and selling it will bring in more than it cost, maybe many times more than it cost. Your book about the war paid for it in the first place, and I want you to have the money to do what you want."

"That's very generous of you." Why can't I feel anything? I should be raging, I should be screaming, and sobbing and throwing things!

"Giving you the flat doesn't begin to make up for what I've done to you, or for what I'm asking of you, 'Mione."

Decision time. With a sinking heart, Hermione knew she had already lost Ron and her marriage. Though part of her was furious, the part of Hermione that always carefully counted every cost had already decided to grant him the divorce. To contest it would be futile. To contest it would put Hugo and Rose right in the middle of an ugly situation and would cause Caroline's child to be born out of wedlock, which was still a serious thing in the wizarding world. She could not take out her anger and hurt on her own children or an innocent baby.

She drew in a deep breath, and felt a sense of calm flow over her.

"I won't contest the divorce, Ron. But I want you to put money aside every month in Gringotts for Hugo and Rose, for their education. Their Hogwarts tuition will be waived with me serving as Headmistress, but I won't be able to put aside much for their education after Hogwarts if I buy a new flat."

"Thank you, 'Mione. I'll set it up so Gringotts takes it right out of my pay packet."

"We'll need to have a lawyer go over all this, Ron. Neither of us has ever done this; we don't know how to make sure everything will be legal."

For the first time since he'd arrived, Ron smiled, but it was a rueful, self-deprecating smile.

"I'll probably regret telling you this, but... You should talk to Draco and get yourself a good, sharp attorney, 'Mione. I want to make sure our settlement is fair to you and our kids. You're being incredibly decent about this."

"Ron, we've already done the 'freeze-each-other-out-and-not-speak-for-months' bit to each other. I think we can be more mature than that, don't you?"

A tiny smile was playing at the corners of her mouth. For a moment Ron just looked at her and then he chuckled softly.

"You know everyone is going to be furious at me."

"I'm very hurt and angry, myself, Ron. But I hope they won't show it in front of the children. This is the time when we most need to be decent to each other. If we turn this into a bloody battle, everyone we love will be hurt."

"I know. I'll do my best to keep everything civilized. I can't really tell you how much I appreciate the way you're handling this."

"There is one thing you must help me with, and one thing you must do yourself, though." Hermione spoke firmly.

"Eh? What's that, then?"

"You must help me tell the children, and it's up to you to tell your mum and dad, along with the rest of your family. I'll take responsibility for telling my parents."

Hermione was very close to her husband's family but she was not going to be the one to break this news to them.

"I'm not looking forward to that." For a moment Ron looked perfectly miserable. "I'll tell them as soon as I see them, though, so Mum doesn't have to send a Howler. I'll let her yell at me in person."

"Thank you."

Silence fell between them, a silence that held both relief and dread. Ron broke the growing tension by reaching for his abandoned plate and cup.

"Er... Do you mind if I finish this? I left the stadium before they served breakfast this morning."

That brought a burst of laughter from Hermione.

"Be my guest."

She looked at her own plate and cup and decided that she was still hungry, as well.

Ron was looking around curiously while he ate.

"I don't think I've ever seen so much stuff in all my life. What do all these little machines and gadgets do?"

Hermione looked around at the overstuffed office with a sinking heart.

"I have no idea," she confessed.

"Really?"

"I've not had a chance to study any of them, Ron, and some of them are a bit frightening. They make strange noises for no good reason I can see, or puffs of steam shoot out them. Some of them tick, and that's going to drive me mad. "

"George would..."

"Be thrown in Azkaban for using ANY of this stuff. If you even HINT that I am going to be moving it or getting rid of it, I shall hex you into the middle of the next century, Ronald Bilius Weasley. George MUST NOT find out about this stuff." She glared at him so fiercely that he scooted away from her on the sofa. He knew that glare from first year and had learned very quickly to respect it.

"I won't say a word, promise."

"See that you don't."

Ron had finished his tea and placed his cup and plate back on the tray.

"I shall have to go soon. I have an appointment at the Magical Games office in London."

"I'll be going back to Potter's Hollow for a bit this evening. We'll have to tell Rose and Hugo before you go back to Ireland, Ron. I don't want them to find out from anybody else."

"No, I don't either. I'll come back to Harry and Ginny's tonight. And I mean it; you should talk to Malfoy. Ask if he knows a really good attorney."

Ron got to his feet and Hermione rose also, walking with him to the door of the office.

Both of them recognized that this was an ending, that nothing would ever be the same from this point on.

"I really am sorry, Hermione. I still love you very much, but... I think I see, now, that we are better as friends than lovers. I wish I had seen that sooner and spared all of us this situation. No regrets, though. " Ron drew her into his arms and bent his head to place a very tender kiss at the corner of her mouth. "I shall miss you."

Now the tears she couldn't cry earlier welled up in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall as she hugged him close. For so many years, her tears had been cried into the crisp cotton shirts he favored, but now those tears would have to fall somewhere else.

"I shall miss you too, Ron. Probably more than I can even imagine right now."

He nodded miserably, and she could see tears in his eyes, too.

"Goodbye, Ron." She stepped out of his arms, and he squared his shoulders and opened the door, looking back only once before he went out and closed the door softly behind him. She heard the click of his boot heels as he walked away down the long stone hallway.

~OoO~

Hermione dropped onto the sofa in front of the fireplace and cried silently into her hands, completely unaware of the interested glances from the portraits on the wall.

Unsurprisingly, Albus Dumbledore's portrait spoke first.

"Madam Granger-Weasley." He cleared his throat and called her name again, and she looked up in surprise.

"Oh, Headmaster Dumbledore. Er... Hello."

"My dear, can we do anything to help alleviate your distress? Perhaps one of us could summon Mr. Potter?"

My husband has just asked me for an uncontested divorce so he can marry his pregnant mistress, and now I am talking to a portrait of a man who has been dead for more than twenty years. I feel as though I have fallen through the looking glass. Despite the surreal quality her life had taken on, she lifted her chin and wiped her eyes, smiling politely at the portrait of the ancient former Headmaster.

"Thank you so much, but I don't need to disturb Harry. I'll be fine."

"You've had a shock, my dear. Please remember we are all pledged to help the current Head of Hogwarts in any way possible."

"Thank you, Headmaster. I shan't forget."

"I must say you have comported yourself with admirable restraint, Miss Granger..."

The low, velvety voice of Headmaster Severus Snape startled her and she spun around to look at his portrait over the fireplace. "Thank you, Professor. I wish I felt worthy of your compliment. I really was too shocked to know what to say."

"Had it been you confessing infidelity to your husband, I daresay all of these magical devices would be in shards on the floor, and we portraits would be ducking and dodging in our frames. Mr. Ronald Weasley had a bit of temper. Whatever your motivation, Madam, your behavior does you credit."

She smiled at the austerely dressed man in the portrait and then dropped her eyes, unused to praise from Severus Snape.

"Well said, Severus. Hermione, my dear, you have comported yourself with great dignity."

Hermione got to her feet and started to pace. She could not allow herself to dwell on what Ron had just asked of her. If she let down her guard she would wind up in tears again, and that was not how she intended to spend the remainder of her first day as Headmistress of Hogwarts. She paused and looked around the big circular office, truly seeing it for the first time. Headmasters Dumbledore and Snape watched from their frames as she went to the windows, drawing open the drapes to let in the morning sunlight. The drapes opened with a flurry of dust motes, and Hermione sneezed explosively several times, causing Headmaster Snape to chuckle.

"I always kept the drapes drawn. I sneezed for an entire day the first time I opened them and decided after that to leave them alone."

"They are getting rather dusty, I must admit. I never did find the time to put away all the instruments so the house-elves could take the drapes down for cleaning." Headmaster Dumbledore looked mildly vexed at his failure to accomplish the needed task, but Hermione forgave him. She had been a student at Hogwarts during the war. She knew how little cleaning the drapes had mattered at that point in time. "Minerva did have them cleaned when she moved in to this office, but they seem to attract the dust." Dumbledore peered doubtfully at the drapes.

Hermione looked around again once she had drawn all the drapes open. The office occupied the highest floor of a circular tower and had a charmed ceiling like the one in the Great Hall. Today it was a hazy grey blue, drifted with thin streaks of dark clouds. She watched the ceiling for a moment, then looked around the rest of the office in wonder.

All of the furniture was old and beautifully polished, and there wasn't a speck of dust anywhere on any cleared surface. But her heart sank as she realized how few cleared surfaces the room held. The huge desk in the center of the room did have a cleared space the size of a tea tray, and the table by the fire held only a low, colorful arrangement of flowers, now that Winky or one of the other house-elves had retrieved the tea tray. Most of the chairs were empty. Every other horizontal surface in the room was covered with JUNK. Amusing, fascinating, arcane, undoubtedly valuable, and possibly dangerous JUNK.

A soft chime sounded, followed by a whistle like a tea kettle. Various bowls and vases bubbled and steamed and underneath all the other sounds she was aware of the tick of a clock. Several clocks, actually; all of them ticking away at different intervals. She turned her eyes to the windows again and winced. Aside from being dusty, the drapes were a violent red and gold Tartan. How had she failed to notice that until just now? Especially the lions rampant embroidered in black on the red velvet tie-backs.

Severus Snape had been watching her as she walked around looking at everything, and his lips were twitching in amusement at her changing expressions. Wonder, bewilderment, appreciation and now dismay flitted across her features as she looked at the loud Tartan drapes.

"Interesting décor, wouldn't you say, Miss Granger? That is... Madam Granger-Weasley... "

"Please, I am quite accustomed to hearing you call me Miss Granger." She looked around the office once more, then back at him.

"I don't even know what most of these things are."

"Surely you recognize the tea services and biscuit barrels?" He raised one thick black eyebrow, a mocking half smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Er, yes. Those I did recognize."

Snape remembered many of the instruments from when this had been Albus Dumbledore's office. If he was honest, he didn't know what most of them were, either. He could not resist the temptation to provoke Granger just a little bit though. He was stuck to the wall of her office, after all. She would have to get used to him. He could see that she was as curious now as she had been as a first year. He knew it would not be long before she had found out what each instrument was and what it did.

"I believe many of them are used in the science," his voice took on a heavy note of sarcasm now, "of Divination." He almost laughed as she rolled her eyes. She had failed divination rather spectacularly in her third year. He recalled Sybill Trelawney's indignation that Miss Granger had told her off and stalked out of the Divination classroom, but his sympathy had really been with Miss Granger. Divination depended heavily on the innate talent of the witch or wizard, rather than spells or equations. Miss Granger's mind was a very logical one; her magical talents leaned heavily towards the practical. She had been dreadful at Divination and had hated every second of it.

"I never was very good at that."

"No, you were not. It was one of the few classes in which you did not excel." Flying had been the other.

"A compliment from you, Professor Snape?" She laughed, but there was a tinge of sadness in her laughter.

"Your academic record speaks for itself, Miss Granger. Your marks were always exceptional, and you took more NEWTs than anyone in your year."

"I wish your praise had come 25 years ago when I wanted it so desperately."

Professor Snape's dark eyes reflected something that looked very like regret, and his voice dropped lower. "I wish I had been in a position to offer it 25 years ago."

"I do understand." And she did. Severus Snape had been a spy for the Order of the Phoenix when Hermione had had been a student at Hogwarts. His cover story depended upon Voldemort believing he favored Slytherin house and pure-blood wizards in all things, which meant he'd been unable to praise good students from the other three houses at Hogwarts. Withholding criticism had been as close as he could come to praise during those years. Once Hermione had seen Snape's memories, given to Harry Potter on the day that Voldemort fell, she'd repented of all the resentment she'd felt towards him. If only she had known.

"Your success at brewing Polyjuice Potion in your second year is a feat that remains unmatched. I never quite understood what you three intended to accomplish by using it, nor where you got the fur that turned you into a cat."

"We thought Draco Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin, and hoped to catch him incriminating himself among his housemates in the Slytherin common room."

"Ah. I had never heard the full story. Presumably, then, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley impersonated two of his companions?"

"Crabbe and Goyle, actually."

"And who did you plan to transform into?"

"Millicent Bulstrode. I thought I had a strand of her hair to use for the transformation. I didn't know she had a cat, and I got one of the cat's hairs, rather than one of Millicent's." Miss Granger's cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and she couldn't look at him. With great difficulty, Snape resisted the temptation to tease her and turned his chuckle into a cough.

"I must admit I have been much more careful about what goes into my potions ever since that incident."

"Then it is a lesson well learned."

Hermione came back to the sofa near the fireplace and sank down onto the cushions, glancing up at her two Headmasters again.

"I'm very sorry you were forced to witness the scene with Ron."

"Rest assured, child, there are no surprises to those of us who occupy this office." Headmaster Dumbledore's voice was soothing.

"Mr. Weasley did give you one very good piece of advice, Miss Granger."

"He did?"

"Mr. Malfoy could refer you to a very good attorney, and you should retain one as soon as you can. Your interests should be protected, and those of your children."

Hermione frowned.

"I really hate to do that. I hate to think I can't trust Ron to keep his word."

"Miss Granger. Please do not allow your pain at his transgression to blind you to the fact that he has, in fact, already broken his word. If Mr. Ronald Weasley had proven trustworthy, you would not now need legal representation." Despite all that has occurred, she remains the quintessential Gryffindor, he thought, ... always wanting to believe the best about everyone, even when there is evidence to the contrary.

"That's what I am doing, isn't it? Thank you for pointing that out to me."

"Severus." Albus Dumbledore could still rebuke him just by invoking his first name. "Madam Granger-Weasley can use all our tact," there was definitely an emphasis on the word tact, "and support at this difficult time."

"I spoke rather hastily, Miss Granger. It is not my intention to chide you for a situation that is not of your making."

Hermione recognized that this was a fulsome apology, coming from Severus Snape.

"I'm not offended, Professor Snape. I appreciate your advice, and yours, Headmaster Dumbledore."

She got to her feet and began pacing around the office again. Ron's confession meant she had even more to do now.

~OoO~

Hermione had only been alone for twenty minutes when the gargoyle statue that guarded the stairs to her office announced, "Mister and Madam Harry Potter seek an audience with the Headmistress."

Glancing to the portraits on the walls, she asked, "Does it do that all the time?"

"Yes, indeed. The gargoyle is very helpful, Madam Granger-Weasley. It allows entrance to anyone who has the password, and announces all other visitors."

"How do I tell it to let Harry and Ginny in?"

"Merely instruct the gargoyle to permit them to enter the office, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

Raising her voice slightly, she said, "Gargoyle, please allow the Potters to enter the office."

"Yes, Headmistress."

A moment later the doors swung open and the Potters surged into the office. Both of them engulfed Hermione in hugs, followed by a flood of tender words, mingled with indignation at Ron's behavior. Dumbledore watched the proceedings quite openly, looking for a chance to put in a helpful word. Snape wasn't as obvious about it, but he, too, closely observed the conversation.

"Are you sure you want to just LET Ron have the divorce uncontested, Hermione?"

'There's really not much point in fighting it, is there? It's clear that he wants to be with her. If I drag this out for months, everyone will be hurt, and his child-THEIR child-will be born illegitimate. I don't want to be the cause of that."

Harry and Ginny protested that Ron's first obligation was to Hermione, until she reminded them that Ron had already chosen to put Caroline first.

"Ron's a prat; Mum and Dad are going to be so disappointed in him."

"It will all work out, Ginny. I don't want a huge fight to tear the family apart. The more bitterness there is, the more it will hurt Hugo and Rose. This is better."

Snape and Dumbledore watched as she spoke soothingly to her best friends. Snape felt a stirring of compassion for Miss Granger. Even in this situation it was she who maintained her composure, and she, the injured party, who lavished comfort on her friends, rather than seeking comfort from them.

Snape could not have explained why this bothered him so much. He sat back in his chair, just watching quietly and wishing there was something he could do for her. Perhaps there was. He nodded his head. Yes, perhaps there was.

~OoO~

By Owl

Draco Malfoy

Malfoy Manor

Nottinghamshire, England

To:

Madam Hermione Granger-Weasley,

Headmistress

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Hogsmeade, Scotland

Dear Hermione,

P.S. Daphne sends her good wishes, as well, and thinks you should hex Ron where it will do the most good.

Hermione collapsed into giggles at Draco's formal letter and the odd, mis-matched post script, but then looked up at the portrait over the fireplace. Professor Snape had not returned, and she felt oddly disappointed that she could not thank him.

~OoO~

The Library, First Floor, Malfoy Manor, Nottinghamshire, England.

Severus Snape watched from his portrait as Draco Malfoy sent off the owl bearing his letter to Hermione Granger-Weasley and left the room. Then he glanced up at the portrait of Lucius Malfoy, which hung on the opposite wall. The elder Malfoy lounged in a fabulous chair, silver-headed cane in hand, impeccably tailored, as always. Tonight, his eyes glittered with amused malice as he greeted Snape.

"Well, well, even bloodlines don't guarantee good breeding, do they?"

Snape shook his head. "If you're saying that Weasley is a short-sighted, inconsiderate lout, I'll not disagree with you."

"What I cannot understand, Severus, is how he allowed himself to get caught. A gentlewizard's first duty is NOT to remember whom it was he took to his bed the night before, my old friend. A gentlewizard's FIRST duty is to ensure that there won't be inconvenient reminders of his pleasure coming along nine months later. After all, there are both potions and charms to prevent this sort of thing. " Malfoy's eyes narrowed in malicious appreciation of his own wit, and Snape had to laugh. Trust Lucius Malfoy to get to the heart of the matter at once.

"If Mr. Weasley is as thoughtless now as he always was while a student at Hogwarts, this outcome could easily have been predicted, Lucius."

"Yes, I remember your comments about him when he was your student. Still, it's a pity for Madam Granger-Weasley. I have been watching her, not that I would ever admit that outside this room. She's done well for herself over the years. Quite an intelligent witch."

"I think we can expect great things from her. I predict she will rise above this unfortunate turn of events... in time."

"Draco and Daphne think well of her."

"As do I, Lucius."

"It will be interesting to see how it all turns out."

When Draco returned to the library a few moments later, he saw that his mother had joined the conversation, slipping into her husband's portrait frame, and the topic of Hermione Granger-Weasley was forgotten.

~OoO~

Prompt Information

This story was written for the Potter Place Deathly Hallows Challenge.

I used prompts 6 and 8 but modified them.

The original prompts:

6. The kids leave after Snape dies. He sits up and realizes he is a ghost.

8. As Hermione, Ron, and Harry watch Snape die, Hermione is devastated because she has been secretly in love with him. Waiting until after the war is won, Hermione gets her Time Turner and goes back a year. She confronts Snape and tells him what will happen. They take the year to come up with a potion that will react once the Dark Lord and the gang leave the Shrieking Shack. Since Hermione cannot be seen by her other self, she must stay with Snape in the dungeons until the day of the battle. I think it would be kind of cool is she were to fight during the battle as herself and her time turner self.)

My modifications: The story is written about a portrait and not a ghost. I only borrowed Hermione being in love with Severus from prompt 8.