Chapter 2

Author's Note Thanks to Southern_Witch_69 for the original beta and encouragement, and thanks to WriterMerrin from TPP, who helped corral the unruly commas I put in after Sunshine vetted the story for me. Any remaining errors are ALL MINE!

Chapter Two

Actually, what had she and Harry been thinking?

The final battle was two nights past, and she and Harry were staying at Hogwarts, sleeping in the Common Room in Gryffindor Tower. Much of the damage to the school had been on the lower floors; the Gryffindor Common Room and the boys' and girls' dormitories hadn't suffered much visible damage. Hermione and Harry had been offered rooms in Hogsmeade and also guest accommodations at the Ministry in London, but neither of them wanted to go either place. Hogwarts felt like home right now, and they had moved into the Common Room with identical sighs of relief.

There were still things left undone, but they needed to rest and recover from the battle, first. Hermione's parents were under memory charms somewhere in Australia, and Hermione still had to make arrangements to find them and restore their memories. Harry had Grimmauld Place and Kreacher to worry about, but Kreacher was presently at Hogwarts, and Grimmauld Place could wait.

Neither of them could bear to think of going to the Burrow, not after losing Fred, Ginny, and Ron. Fred had been killed by a falling wall, early in the battle of Hogwarts. Ginny hadn't been fast enough to dodge Bellatrix's Avada Kedavra after the mad witch had knocked Hermione out with a Stupefy. Luna Lovegood had been badly injured but was in the hospital wing, recovering. Molly Weasley had avenged Ginny's death with her own killing curse, but vengeance wouldn't bring Ginny back. Nor would it bring back Ron, who'd incapacitated Fenrir Greyback but bled to death from his wounds even as Neville Longbottom successfully killed the Werewolf with the silver sword of Gryffindor.

Harry and Hermione had both spoken to the Weasleys and honored their request not to visit right away when Arthur had gently explained that the family needed to be alone with only family to grieve. There was an element of practicality in what he'd said, as well. At the end of the battle, the Weasleys had decided to return to the Burrow, rather than go back to Molly's Auntie Muriel's house or Shell Cottage, the home of their son Bill and his wife Fleur. They wanted the comfort of their own things around them, Arthur had said. Molly wanted to be able to sleep in her own bed and look out into her own garden, feed her own chickens and try to pretend that half of her world hadn't collapsed with the death of three of her children and her own dire need to cast an Unforgivable curse in the final battle. Harry and Hermione had nodded their heads, knowing that nothing they could say or do would change the outcome of the war or ease the losses The Weasleys had suffered. And so Arthur and Molly, Bill and Charlie and Percy and George had returned to the Burrow, and Harry and Hermione had basically set up camp in Gryffindor Tower.

Kreacher was looking after them, and one good thing about the war; he had decided that Hermione was a heroine for all the help she'd given Harry. He hadn't called her 'the Mudblood' for ages, of course, but now he saw to Hermione's needs second only to Harry's own. At one time, Hermione would have been horrified to have Kreacher tending her, but she'd finally realized it made him happy to do so, and, frankly, she was too exhausted to worry about freeing creatures who obviously didn't want to be freed. There were more pressing things on her mind just at the present time.

When the Weasleys had gone, and Harry had been summoned to London by Interim Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, Hermione had gone back to the Shrieking Shack with a team of Aurors, insisting that they recover the body of Professor Snape, who now lay in state in the Great Hall, with an honor guard of Aurors standing at attention around him. Hermione had helped Madam Pomfrey clean him and arrange his body; it had been she who'd gone to the Headmaster's apartments to get clean robes and fresh linen for Poppy to dress him in. When they had finished, Hermione had collapsed in exhausted tears. Harry had told her of the memories Snape had given him, and it had broken her heart to think of his lonely, thankless odyssey.

Now, the battle was two nights past, and Hermione and Harry were sitting on the squashy couch in front of the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry had gulped a full bottle of Butterbeer as they sat watching the fire, and now he leaned forward, elbows on knees, head propped up by his hands, and gazed blearily into the fire.

"It's not right, 'Mione. None of it's right."

"I know." She stroked her fingers over the back of his neck. "I know. It's horrible."

"If anybody should've died, it should have been me."

"NO!" Her fingers curled into the locks of hair at the back of his neck and tugged sharply, and Harry looked around at her with a startled yelp. "NO, you SHOULD NOT have died! Never that! But neither should Ron, or Ginny... or ... Professor Snape."

"He gave up his whole life to protect me."

"He felt he'd failed your mother, Harry, and he wanted to atone for that."

Dry-eyed, (and tears would have been a cleansing relief,) Harry shook his head stubbornly. "He didn't need to atone, Hermione. He'd already done everything he could to save her. He turned spy for the Order so Dumbledore would protect her and my dad and me. And because of Pettigrew," (Harry almost spat out that loathed name,) "everything fell apart anyway. And then, when I came to school, what did I do? I acted exactly like my dad. I hated him and made fun of him and disrespected him, and he still SAVED MY LIFE, HERMIONE! He saved my bloody life HOW MANY TIMES? And the best I can do for him is testify before the Wizengamot that he was a hero, so he can be awarded a bloody Order of Merlin, after he's dead and it can't possibly make one bit of difference. IT'S NOT RIGHT, HERMIONE!" The last was a scream, and then Harry's voice died down to a broken whisper. "It's not right. And there's abso-bloody-lutely nothing I can do about it."

"I know. I know." She opened her arms as Harry turned to her, and his head found a place on her shoulder, and finally he cried, cried as he had wanted to do all his life. When the storm of emotion had passed and Harry sat up, he wiped his face on a handkerchief Hermione conjured from something, and then turned to face her.

"I'm not saying I think I would have liked him. He was bloody brilliant, and I'm just an ordinary bloke, you know? But he deserved better than he got. More than anyone, he deserved better than he got. He gave up so much."

Hermione's mind was racing, though she felt numb, too. "His death was so un... so unnecessary." She stumbled over the words, which had been tumbling around in her mind for a while. "What did his death accomplish?"

"Abso-bloody-lutely nothing." Harry spoke with conviction, enunciating every syllable carefully.

"I think...actually, Harry, I think I might have liked him, if I'd known him when he was...you know, our age. And I don't like to speak ill of the dead, Harry, but your mum should have forgiven him."

"I know." He pondered that for a moment, eyes as round as an owls' as he thought over what she said. "You...you're a really forgiving girl, you know? I never realized that till yesterday, during the battle, when you and Ron got Goyle out of the Room of requirement."

"Harry! He was horrible to us when we were at school, and he surely had nothing good to say about Muggle-borns, but we couldn't leave him to die in that room."

"There are people who would have. People who would have said he deserved whatever he got."

"No." She shivered even in the warmth of the fire. "I couldn't have lived with myself if we didn't help him."

"I don't know why my mum didn't make up with Snape. I hate to think she treated him...treated anyone... like that."

Hermione didn't want to criticize Harry's mum, but she thought, in her heart of hearts, that Lily should have forgiven her childhood friend. "She was very young, Harry. Maybe she didn't understand how badly she hurt him."

"No, I think she knew. I think...I can't say I've never felt this way myself...I think she felt she was right to hurt him back, for hurting her. She wasn't right. But I think that's what she thought. Sometimes, when someone hurts you...you can think to yourself that it's right to hurt them back." He paused and then confessed, "After the Ministry...when Sirius died...I wanted to hurt Dumbledore like that."

He looked back at her, and she could see something like shame in his green eyes. "I wanted Dumbledore to pay for what happened to Sirius."

"I...I can understand that." She spoke slowly. "I've felt like that sometimes, myself."

"It's still not right, though."

"No, it's not."

They sat silently for a moment, and then Harry spoke again. "Unnecessary. You've been saying that every time we talk about Snape. What do you mean, about his death being unnecessary?"

"His death didn't change anything, Harry. He could have given you the memories without dying. He wasn't a Horcrux. Dumbledore wanted Snape to kill him so that his death, Dumbledore's death, would count for something. You saw the memories. Killing Snape didn't give Voldemort mastery of the Elder Wand. He thought it would but he didn't realize that Draco had disarmed Dumbledore that night on the Tower. So that didn't make any difference to the final outcome. And Snape... he didn't want to kill Dumbledore, either. It nearly killed him to raise his wand and cast the curse. I can't imagine having that kind of courage...to do what Dumbledore required of him. If he hadn't killed Dumbledore when Draco failed, then he and Dumbledore and Draco would have all died for no good reason, and he wouldn't have been able to protect any of the students at Hogwarts last year. And he wouldn't have been able to give you the memories he saved fir you, or the sword of Gryffindor. He's the one who delivered that when we needed it."

"I know."

"But when you look at it logically, his death didn't do anything to affect the outcome of the war. He truly didn't have to die."

"Neither did Ron or Fred or Ginny."

"The whole war was an exercise in waste and stupidity, alright?" It wasn't like Hermione to snarl, and she immediately put her hand up to her mouth. "I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't snap at you like that."

"Don't worry about it." He waved away her apology. "I keep thinking unnecessary, unnecessary."

"I do, too."

The room was entirely silent, save the crackling of the fire and the sounds of their breathing, amplified in the absolute quiet of the Common Room.

"Hermione, what would you change if you could...go back?"

A sound very like a sigh escaped her lips. When she spoke, her words flowed easily, as if they'd been waiting for the chance to escape. "I'd go all the way back, Harry. I'd go back to when he met your mum, or at least to when he came to Hogwarts, and I'd be his friend. I'd even ask the hat to sort me in Slytherin if that's what it took to keep him from taking the Dark Mark."

"Would it be that easy?"

"I...I don't know. Obviously, I'd like to think it would be."

Harry was silent for a moment, and then he spoke again, resolutely. "Hermione...you know I didn't love Ginny. Not like a boyfriend, that is."

"But sixth year... you were crazy about her."

"Yeah. But...it wouldn't have worked. I realize I just wanted Ginny so I could be part of her family. And now that's not going to happen."

"Not for me with Ron, either. But...that kiss up in the hallway...I think Ron really loved Lavender, you know?"

"There's someone I realized I really do love when I almost lost her." Harry wouldn't look at Hermione, until she pushed him back on the sofa. "Harry James Potter, you better tell me who she is, and it better not be me. Or I'll...I'll hex you!"

At that, he laughed, a genuine laugh that came from his belly, a laugh that Hermione hadn't heard in days. "No, it's not you. Can you guess though? It's someone weird enough to understand all my quirks and put up with them. Someone who's patient and tolerant and kind and has had her own share of losses."

Hermione thought for a minute. "You're talking about Luna, aren't you?"

"They don't call you the brightest witch of your age for no reason. Got it in one guess."

"Luna's had her share of hard times."

"But they don't change her. She's just...herself. A little nutty, but good and sweet and kind and understanding."

"She's all those things."

"So you're the hero and you'll get the girl in the end."

"I think there's a good chance of that, yeah."

"My parents will never miss me, Harry. If I don't go to Australia and collect them, restore their memories...they'll never know they had another life, never know they had a daughter who was a witch."

She hesitated for a moment, a swimmer perched on the edge of a verbal diving board. She drew in a breath and plunged.

"If only I still had the Time-Turner I had in third year."

Now Harry hunched forward again, head in his hands so she had to listen hard to hear him. "That's the thing. I think...I'm pretty sure, actually...that I saw a Time-Turner in the headmaster's office."

"But all that would let me do would be to go back to 19...whatever year it was that Snape started at Hogwarts."

"There was a book in Snape's office...back when he was trying to teach me Occlumency. I saw it in his bookshelf. It was a book of potions. And one of them was a de-aging potion. If you wanted to...you're good enough at Potions, you could probably make it. And then use the Time-Turner to take you back. You'd be giving up so much, Hermione. You're the brightest witch of your age and a war heroine. You deserve everything you've earned...but if you wanted to go back and try to save Snape...I think you're the only one who can."

"But my mum and dad...I wouldn't have parents at that point in time. I don't think."

She scrambled out of the couch and knelt on the rug in front of Harry. "My mum and dad were actually married in 1959. They didn't have me for years and years cause my mum...kept having miscarriages. Maybe...oh, I need to get to their things I stored away when I sent them to Australia. I wonder... Harry. Are you SURE you would be happy if I did this?"

"If you want to, Hermione...if you're SURE you don't mind giving up everything you could have by being a war hero...you'd have my blessing and every help I could give you."

She had to think. "Harry, it's pretty insane to think of even trying this."

"I know." There were those green eyes again, round as an owl's and blinking away tears. "I just...look, there's no way we could use a Time-Turner to change things for Fred and Ron and Ginny. Too many people around, and when Ginny was killed, you were knocked out in full sight of everyone in the Great Hall. We can't change what happened to them. But maybe...Since it's so far back anyway... maybe you could save Snape. And I know I'm putting a horrible burden on you, cause I can't go back and save him, 'Mione. I would if I could."

"Do you think I could?"

"Look how your friendship saved me, Hermione. More than once. I'm sure you could."

She drew in a deep breath, wondering if perhaps she was the one who'd had too much Butterbeer.

"Would the book still be there, do you think?"

"The Potions book? It was in the shelves in the office off the Potions classroom. If Slughorn didn't move the book for some reason... And if it's not there, we could check the headmaster's office.

"But Harry! How do we know that meddling with time won't make it somehow horribly, horribly worse? Professor Dumbledore always said..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But he let us go back to save Sirius...even told us how to do it. So the time stream couldn't be that unforgiving."

"Harry, I want to think about it and do some research. I want to see if I can pinpoint the time when Severus would have met your mum at that park when they were kids. And I need to check that de-aging potion and see if it allows the drinker to remember their past, older life. And how long the potion lasts."

Harry chuckled. "That's the Hermione I know. Always researching something."

"Well, if I do this, I want to be well-prepared."

"I understand."

That had been the start of it. Hermione and Harry had gone to the headmaster's office and found the Time-Turner hidden at the back of a drawer that had burst open during the final battle. Hermione had carefully cast a freezing charm on the knob, so it couldn't accidentally be triggered, then Disillusioned the device and slipped it around her neck, hidden carefully under her jumper and robes. The directions for the De-aging potion had been harder to find. Harry couldn't remember which book he'd seen the directions in, and there were a lot of books in the office just off Snape's old dungeon classroom.

Once they'd found those, it was a simple matter to begin preparing the potion, which used fairly ordinary ingredients; the only thing it called for that was really exotic was hair from a unicorn's tail, and Hagrid had a whole braid of that. The potion would take three months to brew, but Hermione had the perfect solution even for that. She offered to help with the reconstruction of Hogwarts, and volunteered to brew all the potions Madam Pomfrey would need for the Hospital Wing. Given the damages to the school, and the fact that entire sections had to be completely re-built, it was a fair guess that people working on the repairs would injure themselves from time to time, and medicinal potions would be needed.

Hermione hadn't sent off her parents without their permission. She'd carefully explained the upcoming war to them, and they, themselves had chosen Australia as their new home, since they'd always thought of going there once they gave up their practice and retired. They'd sold their London practice and given Hermione a generous share of the proceeds, safely kept not in Gringotts, but in a Muggle bank. The Grangers had built up a prosperous practice, and one of the things they'd done for Hermione when she came of age at eighteen, had been to buy a Muggle flat for her, located in Muggle London. Hermione had only seen it once, but her family's lawyer had graciously agreed to manage the property for her. Hermione and Harry and Luna used the flat as a pied a terre whenever they needed to go to London, and Hermione bought a computer and set up in the flat's tiny den.

Harry had contacted his cousin Dudley after the war and had been surprised at the warm response he'd gotten to his first letter. Living in exile had done nothing for Vernon Dursley's temper, and, very surprisingly to Harry, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had gotten a divorce. Aware, for the first time in decades, of the events in the Wizarding world, Petunia developed a warm appreciation for the protection afforded to her and Dudley, and she had struck up a correspondence with Harry. This expanded to an occasional lunch or dinner shared with Dudley, and Harry was able to glean information from Petunia about Lily's childhood. In a surprise rush of something akin to maternal affection, Petunia had even taken Harry, Luna and Hermione to visit the house in which she and Lily had grown up, the primary school Lily had attended, and the park where Lily had met Severus Snape all those years ago.

Petunia didn't remember much about Severus; she thought he'd been very poor, as he had always worn ragged clothing that didn't fit, and looked half-starved most of the time. When Harry explained the role Snape had played in the war, though, and what a hero he'd proven to be, Petunia had been anxious to insist that she'd felt a tremendous amount of pity for him, as it was clear his home life was nothing like her own happy family. Harry was glad Snape wasn't there to hear those sentiments expressed, but managed, with great subtlety, to get her to expound on the few times she'd seen him with Lily, and that had given them a month and a year, something they'd not had before. It had been the year before Lily's Hogwarts letter had come, announcing that she was a witch and eligible to attend the school.

Hermione had done all the rest of the research she'd needed. Her mum did have a great aunt who'd lived near Spinner's End, fortunately, and the Grangers had been married in 1959. Hermione could legitimately claim them as her parents, if an official enquiry was ever made.

There was one other discovery they made together that gave Hermione pause, at first, but later, warmed her heart and made her very glad. It was a letter they found in a dusty file drawer. Not really even a letter, more like a fragment of a memo, written in Headmaster Dumbledore's hand. It said simply, "Received at Hogwarts today, a young lady who has gotten diverted from her normal time stream, but who seems to be a very talented young witch. Must make it a point to monitor her progress. Bless her heart, she is fast friends with the Snape lad, about whom I had very grave cause for concern, given the gossip and Magical Law Enforcement bulletins that have appeared from time to time in the Daily Prophet. Eileen Prince Snape has more than once been the victim of abuse, if the reports are true, and I'm sure her little boy has suffered because of that."

The memo suggested another avenue of search; Hermione would see if the Daily Prophet archived back issues of the paper. Knowing more about what Severus had suffered would be hard, but it would also help her prepare for what he might be like. Most heartening of all was the idea that SOMEONE had gone back in time and befriended Severus. She could only hope that she was the one to whom the memo referred.