Chapter 2 - Places Change

Exactly one week after speaking to Minerva, on Boxing Day, to be precise, Severus found himself knocking at the door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, ready to escort Hermione Granger to Stonehenge for their portal stone to Australia. He had spent almost the whole week clearing out the house at Spinner's End. Everything he owned had been packed neatly into boxes and left in his now-spotless quarters at Hogwarts.

In the end, he had sold his former home to Minerva. Buying rundown cottages and Transfiguring them into beautiful, quaint homes had become a hobby of hers during the more peaceful summers of her teaching career. Though nothing at or in the vicinity of Spinner's End could rightfully be called a cottage and would likely never be considered quaint, Minerva had taken one look at the dank, dilapidated place and announced her intention to take it before speculating about the possibility of buying adjoining blocks as well. Unable to fathom what possible return she hoped to get from doing the place up, Severus had, nevertheless, happily sold it to his former colleague for her very reasonable offering bid.

Now, shivering slightly in the December cold, Severus wondered how many Gryffindors it took to open a door before Harry Potter himself did the honours.

'Professor Snape? Is that you?'

Harry looked bewildered; it was an expression Severus had become well acquainted with during his time as the boy's teacher. His jaw clenched.

Typical.

'Of course it's me, Potter,' he said, tilting his head slightly forward in reflex before recalling that his hair could no longer be used as a screen to hide his face. The new haircut was still bothering him two days after the fact. He reminded himself for the umpteenth time that it was practical. Not only was he supposed to be blending in with Muggles for the foreseeable future but everything he had read in preparation for this trip had told him in no uncertain terms that Australia in December was going to be hot.

Harry ran a hand through his own untidy hair. 'Er, I mean, it's really great to see you up and about again, sir. Brilliant, really. Hermione's ready to go, but if you've got any time before you've got to leave, why don't you come in for a cup of tea?'

'Unfortunately, we can't spare the time, Potter,' said Severus. The lie rolled smoothly off his tongue. Talking to Harry Potter was just as difficult as talking to Minerva, albeit in a different way. Harry, at least, had thoroughly acquitted Severus of any wrongdoing in relation to Albus Dumbledore's death. In fact, after Harry had testified on Severus' behalf and proved instrumental in securing a pardon from the Minister, Severus had felt himself obliged to accede to the boy's only request: Harry had wanted to know more about his mother. Severus was keen to avoid any rehash of that particular conversation. 'Does Miss Granger need any assistance with her bags?'

Harry frowned. 'Hermione doesn't like me doing magic for her,' he muttered. 'We had a bit of a row when I insisted on shrinking her things, even though I showed her the letter Professor McGonagall sent us explaining about portal stone travel yesterday.'

Twenty years of teaching had ingrained Severus with a sort of sixth sense concerning when he needed to prod a bit further for the whole truth.

'A bit of a row?' he enquired flatly.

'It got a bit out of hand.' Harry grimaced as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a wand, mutely offering it to Severus. Putting on a more mulish expression, another one that Severus was well acquainted with, Harry added, 'She didn't put up much of a fight, but she'll need all the energy that she can get if she doesn't want to pass out or have an attack when she reaches the other end. She grabbed her bag from me as soon as I'd finished shrinking it and stormed upstairs. We haven't spoken since.'

Although Severus wanted to curse Potter for 'helping' his friend in such a bull-headed fashion, he could not fault the boy's reasoning. There were a few options for magical travel to Australia, all of them tiring. Portal stones at least had the advantage of being quick, no stop-overs necessary. They did, however, require a degree of magical input from each traveller, nothing a healthy witch or wizard would notice after a good nights' sleep and certainly a piffle compared to the energy needed for the multiple Apparations required to cover the same distance. But the power required by the stone was enough to weaken the health of someone with an existing illness, particularly if proper precautions were not taken.

'Don't bother coming in. I'm ready to go.'

Severus did not recognise the voice at first; he had never heard it so expressionless. Looking beyond Harry, he noticed Hermione's small figure at the bottom of the staircase. He wondered how much of their exchange she had heard.

'Good evening, Miss Granger.'

'Mr Snape.'

Ignoring Harry altogether, Hermione swept past both men and out onto the doorstep of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, putting her hands in the pockets of her coat to ward against the winter chill.

'Well, what are we waiting for?'

'Erm, have a safe trip, Hermione.'

To Severus' relief, Potter looked more concerned than unhappy. The last thing he needed was hysterics from the Boy Wonder.

'Goodbye, Harry.'

Severus was not the most sentimental soul, but the coldness of this farewell made him uneasy. With Hermione giving both men the cold shoulder and Harry trying (and failing) to appear stoic, Severus awkwardly cleared his throat. Just because he felt she could have said more did not mean he was about to take up the mantle of peacemaker.

'I suppose we best be off, then. Goodbye, Potter.'

'Take care of her, Professor.'

Good Lord, were those tears shining in Potter's eyes?

Severus hurriedly assured Harry that he would make every effort to assist Miss Granger, then forcefully grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her into the darkness.

'Are you ready? I will Apparate on three. One, two thr...'

With a pop! they were gone, and Harry Potter had nothing left to do but close his front door with a sigh. With Hermione away for a little while, maybe Ron would finally remember that he had two best friends living at Grimmauld Place, not just an ex-girlfriend and the bloke who thought that he had treated that ex-girlfriend pretty poorly. Failing that, there were always dark wizards to be dealt with at work. It always boosted his mood to successfully capture another piece of filth and throw them to the Dementors...

Severus and Hermione arrived at Stonehenge at six o'clock, a good two hours after all Muggle visitors should have left. It was dark and freezing. Severus was beginning to heartily regret wearing only light clothing under a thick coat. Precautions taken so that he would not boil in his own skin once they arrived in Australia would not help him if he froze solid before he managed to get there. A glow of wandlight illuminated a huddle of people not too far away. Severus started stalking towards them, leaving Hermione to trail a few steps behind.

'Why are we here?'

She sounded petulant. Like a sulky child.

Severus bit back a curse. Minerva had told him the girl had changed, that she had been somewhat listless of late, but never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that Hermione Granger was capable of asking such a remarkably stupid question. Until now, Severus had grudgingly acknowledged her to be less dunderheaded than the rest of his ex-students. Stretching the limitations of his kindness (solely for the sake of her illness, of course) and trying very hard to believe that she really had been too tired and out of sorts recently to take even a cursory interest in how they were getting to bloody Australia to look for her bloody parents, he kept most of the impatience from his voice.

'We will be travelling with the aid of one of the Ministry portal stones. The Stonehenge to Ayers Rock portal is reputed to have the most stable connection due to the strong magic imbued at both sites. You needn't worry about what to do – the Ministry officials will instruct us as necessary.'

'Surely, it would have been easier to just Apparate or take a normal Portkey.'

Stung by her attitude in the face of his restraint, Severus decided that illness had certainly not made Miss Hermione Granger humble or less irritating.

'As I once explained to your friend Potter,' Severus replied tightly, 'time and space matter in magic. Do you have any idea how far away Australia is? If I attempted to Apparate us both even a quarter of that distance, I can assure you that we would not survive. And, before you ask, since I have never been to any of the five or six other countries between here and there, such an undertaking would be foolish in the extreme. As for why not use a Portkey, a portal stone works on the same basic theory as Portkeys, but again, to travel such a vast distance requires a more involved magical process, as you will see.'

Belatedly, he remembered that he needed to give her wand for the travel. 'Here,' he said, shoving the wand in her direction. She stared at it, but made no move to take it. He waved it in her face, causing sparks to fly from the tip. How embarrassing. 'What are you waiting for, Granger?'

After what felt like an age, she took the wand and put it somewhere inside her coat. Since they were close to joining their fellow travellers, he was content not to question her just yet, and thankfully, Hermione said no more. After joining the group – they were the last to arrive – it was all a matter of appearing to attend while the Ministry wizard droned on about safety protocol, then gripping the ring-shaped portal stone with both hands as demonstrated. Planting his feet shoulder-width apart, Severus bent slightly at the knees as instructed and took a deep breath.

They were off.

Travelling by portal stone was at once weightier and somehow more unsettling than any Portkey Hermione had ever encountered. Although she was thankful that they were not spinning wildly – the sensation was actually much more akin to moving through treacle – the experience of being stretched excruciatingly slowly through time and space was... unpleasant. The worst part of the feeling was the nagging suspicion that they were not actually moving at all.

Hermione breathed deeply, as the Healers had taught her to do, and slowly let go of her fears, relaxing into the inexorable force carrying her through goodness knows what. Just as she began to catalogue the various sensations of portal travel in the most detached fashion she was capable of, the pace increased in a rather alarming fashion. Breathing and calm forgotten, she felt her bones shriek in protest as they plummeted towards their destination.

Thankfully, it was over almost as soon as it had started. Wobbly-kneed and exhausted, but otherwise physically intact, Hermione found herself heaving in warm, moist air. As she struggled to get used to the sensation of standing on firm, solid ground once more, she thought that she felt a steadying arm slowly unwrap itself from around her waist. Turning to her travel companion, she thought she must have imagined it. He was absorbed in staring into the distance, probably trying to ascertain exactly where they were.

And good luck to him. From what Hermione could see, they appeared to be in some sort of large cave or rock overhang. The dirt beneath her feet was all the same distinctive shade of red-orange. As the initial disorientation wore off, Hermione also found herself squinting into the distance. Had they arrived at the right place? This was not what she had expected of a trip to the Australian desert. For a start, it wasn't particularly warm. She had expected to start sweating the minute she set foot on Australian soil, but she was quite comfortable in her winter coat. Even though the sun was up, it was impossible to see very far past the tangle of low shrubs and thick white mist at the mouth of the cave. No wonder the Ministry directed portal stones here; there was no chance that they would be seen by anyone.

'Whew! That was quite a kick at the end there, wasn't it? Just slowly lower the stone to the ground, now, everybody. Easy does it.'

Hermione had not caught the name or even really been able to see the British Ministry official who had travelled with them from Stonehenge. Upon closer inspection, she was glad that she had not seen the excitable man entrusted with their safety earlier. Not only did he remind her of Stan Shunpike in the worst possible way but judging by his expression, he had found their harrowing descent absolutely thrilling.

P-P-POP!

Just as they were about to gently lay the stone ring on the ground, the sound of multiple Apparations caused Hermione to jump. Severus' reflexes were even quicker. He let go of the stone and whirled around to face the 'enemy' with his wand drawn before most others had even registered the presence of newcomers. Ignoring him and the rest of the travellers, the incoming wizards and witches turned their backs to the travellers and chanted in unison to raise a light blue, bubble-like shield stretching from the dirt floor to the high rock ceiling.

'Relax, mate.' The British Ministry official still sounded disgustingly cheerful. 'A couple of Australian Ministry workers are just here to check you haven't brought in anything illegal. Put your wand away and just wait until it's your turn. Mrs Anderson has the right idea – just take a seat next to the stone – they'll run a few spells on you, ask you a few questions, and then you'll be free to go. Don't leave without your piece of chocolate.' He produced a block of Honeydukes' best chocolate from a pocket.

Her fears allayed, Hermione sat on the hard ground and had a closer look at the object that had brought them to Australia. The 'portal stone' did not appear to be made of stone at all, and now that she thought about it, it hadn't been particularly heavy. About two inches thick in diameter, the ring had streaks of a dark grey and a brilliant orange intertwining through it. It was not smooth, but slightly rough to her hand. Closer observation confirmed that it was definitely not stone, but it did not seem to be wood or metal, either. Whatever it was, it was definitely old. Hermione could feel a sort of ancient solidness to the object, a magical resonance. However, just as soon as it occurred to her that she might like to know what it was and how it worked, Hermione's spirits sank and her interest dwindled. She pulled her hand away and turned around to dispassionately observe the Australian Ministry workers do their round of the travellers.

Hadn't the whole point of coming to Australia been to put the magical world behind her?

Once he realised that he had overreacted to the appearance of the Ministry officers, Severus hurriedly stowed his wand and tried to look as if he hadn't just been about to attack a group of innocent civil servants.

His studied nonchalance lasted for all of two minutes before a Ministry official approached him. Automatically sizing up his opponent, Severus decided that the man was definitely bigger than he was, and no doubt a confident magic user, though not likely to be creative.

The man (his nametag said 'Daniel') yawned widely before drawing his wand to conjure a quill and a clipboard.

'Sorry if we gave you a bit of a fright when we Apparated in. We know you lot have all been a bit jumpy since that nasty business with what's his face – we would usually already be here when you arrive, but we were running late this morning because a bloke on the five-thirty Adelaide stone tried to bring in a live Grindylow. Now, what's your name?'

Severus struggled to remember the last time that he had needed to tell a complete stranger his real name. He didn't even try to remember the last time he had done so without garnering an adverse reaction. With a feeling of dread, particularly as this man seemed to have some knowledge of recent events in Britain, he muttered, 'Severus Snape.'

There was no reaction. Literally none. All Daniel did was flip through a few pages on his clipboard before he exclaimed, 'Ah, here you are. Severus Tobias Snape.'

Daniel followed that remark with a series of what Severus found to be rather impertinent questions, many of which he couldn't really see the point of. Asking about potions ingredients or raw food seemed reasonable, but why any wizard would carry a firearm when they had a wand was totally beyond him. The last question, however, alarmed him considerably.

'So far so good, Mr Snape. Just one last question and I can let you go. Do you have any prior criminal convictions?'

Severus debated for a moment whether it was worth asking why the man needed to know before deciding that to do so would basically be an admission in itself.

'I do.'

'How are you feeling? Hermione Granger, isn't it?'

Looking up, Hermione smiled thinly at the Stan-lookalike Ministry worker and accepted the piece of chocolate he offered her.

'Fine, thanks.'

'Right, just eat that, and you should be good to go. I'll be around for another few minutes before I Apparate back to the Australian Ministry with this lot. The nearest tourist information centre is straight in front of us; take the path through the bushes for ten minutes or so. You can't miss it. At this hour, there should definitely be a witch or wizard at the desk. They'll help you.'

As he walked away, a female Ministry worker approached Hermione. Though her face was kind, she had a distinctly businesslike demeanour, reminding Hermione of the customs officers she had come across while travelling Muggle-style with her parents.

'Good morning, I'm Claire. I just need to run a few questions by you...'

Hermione settled easily into the pattern of being checked for various contraband; it was all very familiar until she asked, 'And I'm assuming that's another 'no' for whether or not you have a criminal record?'

Hermione inhaled sharply and immediately turned to look for her travel companion. At present, even though his interview had started before hers, he was surrounded by not one, but three customs officers, all with very serious expressions on their faces. She was recalled to the present by Claire clearing her throat.

'I'm sure you don't need to worry, Miss Granger. Your Ministry would have had to clear you before allowing you to take a portal stone. This is just for our records so we know whether or not we've let a mass murderer into the country.' To show just how ridiculous she thought this was, Claire chuckled good-naturedly. No doubt she thought that Hermione was worried about a Ministry warning about truancy or something equally minor.

Hermione smiled weakly. 'No, I don't have a criminal record.'

She didn't, even though her conscience told her that she deserved one more than most. She couldn't imagine what Severus was going to say, though. Even though his pardon had been all but signed even before he went to trial due to Harry's evidence and influence, there had been no denying the cold, hard facts.

Claire seemed oblivious to her unease. 'Is this your first time travelling to Australia?'

'No, I came here by plane to visit my grandparents when I was much younger.'

Claire nodded. 'Muggle-born, are you? Probably seems a bit strange to you that we do customs clearance like this for magical visitors rather than in a nice clean room, but the stone speaks to the stone,' she said, with a casual wave at the portal stone on the ground, 'so we don't really have a choice. If you would just lift your arms for me, yes, just like that, I'm just going to do a quick wand scan of your clothing and cast a few cleansing charms, and then I'll have a quick peek at your luggage, and that'll be it.'

Hermione inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, savouring the sensation of strong magic washing over her head and down to the soles of her feet. Just for a moment, she didn't have to be Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's friend and war hero. She was just Hermione Granger, unimportant English tourist. Hopefully, by the time she opened her eyes again, Professor Snape would not have been hexed, arrested, or a combination of the two.

'What do you mean, one conviction of murder? Don't tell me you've already served a life sentence! Record says you're thirty-eight. Unless you're telling me you did it when you were a kid?'

'I was convicted last year and subsequently pardoned,' Severus explained tightly. Minerva was going to be on the wrong end of his temper when he returned home. She had told him that it had been arranged, that there wouldn't be any problems. The only thing not problematic about this situation was that these Australian wizards were obviously the product of a less suspicious society. Their wands were in their hands, but they weren't pointing at his chest.

Yet.

'I don't know, Dan,' one of the other men said. 'The records say he definitely has clearance to travel. Signed by their Minister and ours.'

'Well, I'd feel a bit more comfortable signing this off if we at least got him to swear a section fifty-four oath,' Dan replied.

Severus stiffened. 'No oaths,' he snapped. He had absolutely no desire to explain that horrible night on Hogwarts' Astronomy Tower to these fools, but compared to swearing another oath, even that would be preferable.

'He does not mean any harm to this land or its people.'

Three pairs of eyes honed in on the speaker, an older man with very tanned, weathered skin and striking pale green eyes.

'Really, Benny? You're going to pull that shit on us here? For this bloke?'

It was Dan who had spoken. Severus looked on with interest as Benny's cheerful gaze turned witheringly cold.

'You want to repeat that, Dan? Here, under the shades of Uluru?'

When Benny said 'Uluru', it somehow sounded more guttural, more meaningful, and the hairs on the back of Severus' neck rose as he felt a shift in the magic around them all. As suddenly as it began, however, the feeling passed and the tension loosened. Severus hoped it wasn't noticeable that he had broken out in a cold sweat. He had not read much about the magic of the native Australian Aboriginal people, but he did know that Uluru was considered a sacred place. The magic in the huge rock was why the portal stone attuned to it was considered one of the safest in the world.

'Fine,' Dan grumbled. He made a rather vicious note on the clipboard. He glared at Severus. 'It's down on record that Benny vouched for you. Try anything funny and his lot will track you down. It won't even matter if you stop using magic – they'll still find you.'

Severus struggled not to let his impatience with such threats show. He didn't think it would make any difference if he told Dan that the only reason he was even in Australia was to find Hermione sodding Granger's very Muggle parents so that they could all piss off back to England. Instead, he just nodded to show that he was listening and hoped that they would go away.

The sooner he could collect Hermione and drag her away from this bloody orange rock, the better.

When she opened her eyes, Hermione let out a sigh of relief when she saw that the situation around Severus had diffused. He was now standing at the very edge of the cave, obviously eager to leave. Handing her shrunk suitcase and her wand to Claire, Hermione felt some of her curiosity return. 'I see that none of you are wearing robes. Is that common for wizards in Australia?'

Claire smiled. 'Robes are rare down here, sweetheart. Ministry workers wear them if they work in one of the big offices, but the magical community down here is pretty spread out, so we're forced to mix with Muggles a lot.' Claire looked at Hermione's thick coat, and a sly grin appeared on her face. 'Might have been pretty cold when you left Stonehenge, and the morning air here can be chilly, but today is going to be a scorcher. Hope you're wearing something light under that thing.'

Handing Hermione her luggage and wand, Claire also dug a small blue card out of her pocket, tapped it with her wand, and gave it to the younger girl. 'Keep this with you at all times during your trip. You can even show it to Muggles and it will appear to them like a passport or other travel identification. You've got permission to stay for ninety days, but after that, you'll need to make contact with the Ministry for an extension. There are a few major Apparation points and other contact details on the back.'

Flipping the card over, Hermione saw a series of little moving pictures, each showing a different location. Mistaking the cause of Hermione's doubtful expression, Claire added, 'Just touch the pictures with the tip of your wand, and they'll become big enough to see properly.'

Hermione's heart sank a little at the reminder of wands and magic and her recent failures in connection to both.

'Thanks,' she said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. Claire really had been very kind.

'No worries. If you have any more questions, just go to the information centre, and they can help you there. Enjoy your visit.'

With a careless wave, Claire was off to check the next person. Hermione watched her go, feeling conflicted. She wanted company, but at the same time, she wanted to be left alone. It had been a while since she had been around people who had not fussed over her health and treated her like an invalid. It was frustrating enough not being able to do magic in a reliable fashion, but having it rubbed in her face a thousand times a day had been unbearable. She dearly hoped that Professor Snape – it was too strange to call him 'Mr Snape' in her mind – would not care about her enough to concern himself with her physical or magical state at all. It would be easier that way.

Speaking of her travel companion, now that Claire had left, he approached her with quick strides. He looked very odd without robes and with the new haircut, Hermione decided. Rather like an awkward, newly shorn sheep. A very irritable, menacing sheep.

'Is it too much to hope that you have given some thought to where you wish to look first, or shall I pick our next destination out of a hat?'

She could have done without the sarcasm, but as it happened, she did have a starting place in mind. 'I'd like to go to Sydney first, if possible. My grandparents used to live there. Can we Apparate directly from here?'

He raised an eyebrow. 'I was told you were no longer a know-it-all, Miss Granger, but somehow, I must have misunderstood when I assumed that you still had at least an ounce of common sense. Let me make this simple for you. Your home was in Kent, I believe? Have you ever attempted to Apparate from your house to Bulgaria to visit your friend, Mr Krum, and taken a friend along with you?'

Hermione felt tears gather in the corners of her eyes and struggled hard to keep them from rising any further. Whenever she had imagined the person who was to accompany her on this trip, she had assumed that they would be a kindly, middle-aged to elderly lady. It had never crossed her mind that her assistant in all things magical would be anyone remotely resembling Severus Snape, let alone the man himself. No wonder Professor McGonagall hadn't told her who the person she had found was until after all the arrangements had been made.

Not yet finished, he added, 'At least in Europe, if you were foolish enough to try such a thing, you would likely splinch yourself between your home and some other small township. Were we to try that here, it is likely there would not even be a farmhouse within the range of a Sonorus spell wherever we ended up. That is, assuming that one of our mouths and my wand hand were lucky enough to end up together.'

She tried so hard to let the words roll off her and not take his comments on her lack of magic personally. It was no more than the truth, after all.

I will not cry.

'So we'll go to the information office, then?' she asked hollowly. After all she had been through, it grated to have to submit to his authority like a student once more. But since she was so unsure how to start treating Professor Snape as Severus Snape, her only choice was to fall into the old student/teacher authority pattern. It was the only one she knew with him, after all.

'That would be the next logical step.'

Not even waiting to see if she was following, he strode off out of the cave and into the mist.

Despondently, Hermione forced herself to keep up with her former teacher's long strides.

Emotions now under control, she sighed when she thought about how different her life and this situation would have been if she had recovered her magic quickly after the first, initial flare-up of Belby's disease. She had come to accept her illness. She had. After all, thanks to the many Healers who had worked with her on finding the best combination of potions for her to take, the prognosis was not all depressing. She would be dependent on the specialised potion that had been developed for her for the rest of her life, but that shouldn't stop her from being 'normal' in most ways. If only the last phase of her recovery – the restoration of stability to her magic – would come within her reach!

The worst of it was that no one seemed to understand how distressing being without magic was for her. When she tried to raise her concerns with the Healers, they simply told her that it would return in time and not to worry until it did; she had not become a Squib. She had asked if there were any basic spells or magical focusing exercises she could do to help coax it back, but so far, she'd had no success in calling magic to her hands at will. It was hard to be positive about the occasional outburst of uncontrolled magic she experienced when she was upset or angry. In the meantime, the Healers told her to take care of herself and not to tire herself physically. Apparently, that last direction seemed to be the only part of the recovery process that her friends, Harry in particular, had latched on to.

She was sick of it. Of everything. She was sick of her friends, and she was sick of waiting around for her magic to return. She could exist without magic. She had done so for eleven years. No doubt when she found them, her parents might be able to help her reintegrate herself into the Muggle world. At least among Muggles, she could still be useful and competent. And here, in Australia, hopefully the story of her failure wouldn't make it into the Daily Prophet. The last thing she needed was the combined pity and contempt of the magical community back home.

Hermione kicked angrily at a stone which just happened to be in her path.

She wished that her motivations for coming to Australia in search of her parents had been purer. As things were, it had been a convenient escape.

A/N: For those who didn't know – I'm Australian. Where I can, I'll try to add little bits of extra information at the end of each chapter for those who are interested.

Many thanks to my beta, JunoMagic.