Full Moon Risen

Disclaimer: Don't own it

Edited by thyme_is_a_cat

A/N: Just a note, in case you didn't see the warnings: this chapter gets a tad violent.

Severus stared at the front of his jacket in confusion. It was, indeed, glowing. His brow furrowed for a moment, and then he sat up, scrabbling at his buttons, clumsy in his haste to undo them.

"Severus, what are you..." Heidi was watching him with her face pressed against the bars.

The suit he was wearing had been his grandfather's on his mother's side. Pericles Prince had been a crafty, distrustful man who had woven secrets into everyday life just for the sake of being devious. The old man had gone barking mad by the time Severus had turned seven, but not before drilling into him the importance of keeping one's secrets close to the chest – literally. After his death, he had been honored and slightly uneasy to receive many of the nutter's personal effects, including most of his wardrobe. It hadn't fit him as an adolescent, but he had worn it anyway, delighting in the numerous secret pockets, Do-Not-Notice-Me spells and anti-theft traps worked into the garments. He had grown into most of them since, making alterations as necessary and hoping that he wasn't damaging any of the mysteries he had yet to reveal. It didn't especially surprise him that this jacket would have a hidden pocket that he had missed when he had first inspected it. Apparently, the Aurors had missed it, as well.

Leaving the bottom buttons closed, he thrust his hand into his jacket, delving through the myriad little slits in the fabric. There was the one that had held his potions bag – empty of course – though this was where he had intended to put the blasted thing... and there was the one where he had stored his money, also empty... He swore colorfully, pushing his fingers into each opening and finding nothing, not even a telltale bulge. But if he had gotten the damned thing in, then he could get it out.

"Severus?" Heidi asked again, gripping his shoulder.

"The Starglass," he hissed at her quietly, smiling when she gasped. "I saw it in the storeroom just before we were captured. I was sure they had confiscated it... Bloody secret pocket..."

Her response was lost in the sudden, deafening screeching of metal on stone. Rising from holes in the floor, the bars retracted into the ceiling. Heidi released his shoulder and scuttled away from the bars, watching their rapid progress with naked terror. As one, they turned their faces toward the tiny window, eyes straining for a glimpse of pallid light on the dark velvet curtain of the sky. With a heavy clunk, the bars vanished into the ceiling, and the screeching ceased. Silence, except for Lupin's quiet whimpering, gripped the cell.

Abandoning his search for the Starglass, which had stopped glowing anyway, Severus scrambled to his feet, searching for Heidi's dark shape in the now combined cell. He found her rising to her feet, holding the chipped ceramic jug and metal basin from her side of the cell. Her face was set with grim determination, and she stood with her legs slightly splayed, balanced on the balls of her feet. Disheveled, filthy and braced for battle, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

"Stay behind me," Severus said as he covered the distance in several long strides, snatching his own bedpan from the floor of the cell. The jug he left behind, wanting one hand free.

Heidi pursed her lips. "What if we knocked him out now, before he's changed?"

Shaking his head, Severus replied, "It would trigger the transformation faster, and then we would have an enraged werewolf on our hands instead of just a hungry one."

"You aren't an Animagus by any chance, are you?" she asked him under her breath as she sidled up to his side and, to his pleasure and relief, slightly behind him.

"No, why, are you?" he replied, just as quietly. They both watched the huddled form of their companion unwaveringly, readying themselves for the moment that he would begin transforming.

She sighed in his ear, and he was sorely tempted to turn his face toward her and capture those lips in a kiss. "Unfortunately not. He wouldn't pay so much attention to you if you weren't human."

"And might I ask how that would help you?" he asked as she stepped around him, turning to face him. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he darted glances between her and the man on the floor, resisting a powerful urge to yank her back behind him.

"Listen to me, Severus," she said quickly, earnestly, her dark eyes wide in her pale, dirt-smudged face. "You can't die tonight; too much depends upon you. No, listen," she repeated when he started to protest. "I know this for the same reason that I can't tell you my real name."

Lupin's whimpers became harsher, lowering and roughening into growls. His body jerked suddenly, his feet scraping against the stone floor.

Severus scowled at her, not liking what she was implying. She confirmed his unease by continuing with, "If it comes down to it, you must save yourself. Now, look again!" She gestured at the front of his jacket, but he was forestalled by a loud, pained moan that was punctuated by sharp cracking and visceral popping of joints.

"Oh, no," Hermione whispered, whirling toward the commotion in time to watch Lupin's form rise and elongate in one long, wet, ripping sound. His face lengthened and narrowed as sharp incisors sprang from upper and lower jaws. Shreds of clothing fell away as thick, brown fur grew into a shaggy pelt. Arms and legs twisted into haunches and forelegs, the joints realigning to resemble that of a wolf's. With a shudder that shook his lupine form, a thin tail grew from his spine, ending in a damp tuft. Throwing his head back, the beast that had been Lupin let loose a howl that ricocheted off the stone walls enclosing them, vibrating the very marrow of their bones.

He shook his head and sneezed, then shook the rest of his body, discarding the few pieces of clothing that still remained. Flexing his shoulders, he lifted his body until he was standing on his haunches and sniffed the air, then swiveled his head to fix the humans in the cell with a feral snarl.

Hermione stood as if transfixed, still in disbelief that she was trapped in a jail cell with a werewolf. 'It isn't supposed to happen this way!' she protested silently to any being that might be listening. Anything she might have added to that was lost as Severus' hand twisted in the back of her dress and yanked her backward and behind him.

Growling deep in his chest, an almost phlegmy rumble, Lupin snapped his jaws at them, ribbons of saliva leaking between his sharp incisors and splattering on the stone floor. Wide eyes, bloodshot and almost human-shaped, stared balefully at them, though nothing of Lupin shone through. Still standing in his corner, he flexed his clawed fingers, the joints cracking in diminished homage to the transformation they had just endured.

Hardly daring to breathe, Hermione watched him without blinking, afraid that if she so much as twitched an eyelid, then she would miss Lupin's inevitable attack. Blood pounded in her ears, tension hummed in her limbs, yet she felt oddly disassociated, as if she were standing an inch out of her skin. Severus was as taut as a bowstring in front of her, his formidable attention focused on their adversary. His sallow knuckles were white as they clenched around the rim of the basin. For a timeless moment, they stood still as stone, eyes transfixed on the werewolf that stretched and flexed only a few good strides away from them. Dark, wet lips stretching back in a toothy leer, his hairy body bunched onto all four limbs... and uncoiled in a smooth, effortless leap toward them.

Severus reacted instantly, flinging an arm to the side to coral her behind him as he raised the basin to defend them. Only a fraction of a second slower, Hermione ducked under his arm and darted for another corner, howling like a wolf as she ran hunchbacked with the basin held over her head. In the moments she had spent watching him, Hermione had decided that Severus would have a much better shot at disabling the werewolf if he could attack from the back – which left her as bait. She was only somewhat relieved that her diversion had worked when Lupin's elongated muzzle snapped toward her, and he twisted at the apex of his jump, landing in a crouch in the center of the cell, his eyes rolling to follow her progress.

"Get him!" she shrieked at Severus, whom she could see no longer. Her voice sounded shrill and brittle in her own ears, and Lupin sniffed the air, salivating at the scent of her fear.

She didn't have time to explain further, for with a sloppy swipe of his long tongue over his lips, Lupin lunged for her, jaws open and outstretched. Swinging her arm with force born of adrenaline, she smashed the jug into his nose, wincing at the thick crunch of pottery breaking against bone. Rearing back on his hind limbs, he shook his head wildly, sneezing mucus and blood into the air in great, noisy bursts. A metallic tone punctuated the air when Severus finally took her advice, braining their companion with his basin. Lupin howled with fury and spun toward this new attacker, wobbling slightly on his axis. Wasting no time, Hermione hefted her own basin, and though it was a reach, she managed to bash it into the base of his skull. She didn't bother to wait for the werewolf's attention to turn back to her; forcing out a breathless howl, she sprinted for another corner, hoping that his disorientation would buy them a few more moments. Claws caught in the back of her dress, scraping the skin and drawing jagged lines of pain down her back. Her howl contorted into a scream as another set of claws tangled in her hair, and a spray of hot saliva wet the back of her neck. The gong of metal on skull reverberated through the cell, and the claws retracted, taking with them several buttons and a good many strands of hair. Panting with fright, Hermione twirled where she stood, striking out with her basin at the teeth that were snapping far too close to her face. He snarled and lunged again, ignoring Severus' repetitive bell-toned whacks from behind.

In the din of metal on werewolf skull, screaming and growling, a voice shouted, "Stupefy!"

Red light engulfed Lupin, and he swung toward this new source of pain, howling in rage. Hermione hardly had a moment to process this new development before a lean, hard body slammed into hers, dragging her off of her feet and toward a door-sized hole that had opened in the cell wall. A wash of sweaty, masculine musk that had become one of her favorite scents engulfed her, and she clung tightly, winding her arms around his neck and trying to ignore the pain in her back where his sleeve chafed against her wounds.

Two young Aurors stood in the antechamber beyond, wands pointed steadily at them as they stumbled out of the cell, closely followed by the wizard that had been attempting to Stun Lupin into submission. A furious howl shook the small chamber, startling the Aurors, as the doorway solidified into stone blocks.

"'E's cheesed off," one Auror, just out of his teens with a smattering of spots on his chin, joked nervously to the man on his right.

A scant few years older and dough-faced to his coworker's sharp angles, the other Auror said, "You'd be too, if you missed a bite 'o that crumpet." He leered at Hermione, who still held fast to Severus as he panted harshly. He didn't seem ready to let go of Hermione, either.

"Shut it, you two." The third Auror, grim-faced and well into middle age, raised his wand to point directly at his captives. "We have business to take care of before we hand them over."

Hermione didn't like the sound of that, and apparently, neither did Severus, for he spun his body to shield her away from the eyes of the Aurors and flung his basin directly at the eldest Auror. The ridged rim hit him squarely in the forehead, knocking him out cold. Wasting no time, Hermione pulled out of his arms and with a warrior yell, ran at the Auror who had eyed her. Obviously unprepared for a full frontal attack from a wild-haired madwoman, the man was too slow in casting his spell and was slammed backward as Hermione tackled him. His back struck a heavy wooden door, and it swung open under their combined weight. Landing straddled on the man's chest and soaring on a brittle, jittery adrenaline high, she raised the basin high over her head and brought it down with a satisfying crunch.

The man below her screamed shrilly and flailed at her with empty hands, his wand having fallen and skittered out of reach. A second pair of hands hooked under her armpits, hauling her up, and she twisted her torso away, swinging her basin at the unseen attacker. Immediately, she was released.

"For fuck's sake, Heidi, it's me!" Severus exclaimed, dodging out of reach and into sight. Scrambling off the Auror, Hermione gave him a slightly maniacal grin, toothy and wide, and took his outstretched hand.

"Severus, my boy." A deceptively mild voice spoke, one that Hermione had never thought to hear again in her lifetime. "You missed a mandatory staff meeting. I'm sure that you have a good explanation."

Finally taking stock of this new room, Severus and Hermione turned as one toward the owner of the voice: a tall, wizened wizard with a long, white beard and clear, blue eyes. His royal blue robes had bright, red phoenixes embroidered in sparkly thread, and he was giving them both a stern look from his seat on a comfortably padded bench. Pale and visibly sweating, another young Auror was standing next to him, glancing nervously between the old wizard, his former captives, and three Aurors lying in groaning heaps on the floor.

"Sir, these people are dangerous thieves. We caught them..." He broke off mid-sentence when the old wizard raised a wrinkled hand.

"Headmaster," Severus said politely, as if he hadn't just been brawling with law enforcement in what must have appeared to be attempted escape from jail.

On the polished wood floor, Hermione's victim wailed and rolled to his side as he held his gushing nose.

"I think, my dear, that you have broken that young man's nose," Dumbledore directed this next comment to Hermione.

She swallowed thickly and blinked, trying not to betray her utter joy and sudden heartbreak to see the old wizard alive and well, making wholly inappropriate understatements. He was one of the last wizards she had wanted to see in the past, only for the fact that it wouldn't take him much effort to glean what she would rather keep hidden, though she fervently hoped that he would respect her privacy. It wouldn't be the first time he had deliberately ignored a person's secrets. Clearing her throat and pleading with her eyes for him to take her at face value, she replied, "I was simply returning a favor."

Severus snorted wetly next to her and then wiped a trickle of blood from one long nostril. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her to his side. Hermione sagged against him, but one of his buttons dug into the gouges in her back and she winced, hissing in pain and arching her back.

His hand flying to the torn fabric at her back, Severus frowned deeply. "Heidi, these scratches..."

"It's alright," she said quickly. "It's only the bite of the werewolf that can cause infection."

"Perhaps," he said as he gently prodded the sundered flesh. "But he drooled all over you." With his sleeve, he wiped carefully at the back of her neck and shoulder blades. "If enough saliva gets into these wounds..."

The Auror cleared his throat and attempted to speak again. "Sir, I really must protest..."

Dumbledore held up another quelling hand, watching the interplay between Severus and Hermione with thinly veiled interest, his blue eyes following the motions of Severus' hands with something akin to wonderment. "I did not realize that it was the policy of law enforcement to jail alleged thieves in the same cell as a werewolf on the full moon."

"Sir, we didn't know..."

This time, it was Severus who cut him off. "You might reconsider your words. If the intention of that dunderhead," he said as he gestured through the door at the eldest Auror, still groaning and barely conscious on the floor, "was to Obliviate us, then he has failed."

The young Auror snapped his mouth shut and looked ready to flee. Hermione supposed that the only thing stopping him was Dumbledore, though by enchantment or force of presence, she wasn't sure. She did know, however, that Dumbledore knew more than he was letting on, simply by the fact that the injured Aurors were still lying on the floor, and no reinforcements had arrived. As usual, Dumbledore seemed to have the situation under control, though he seemed to be waiting for something. The Professor Dumbledore that she had known would have whisked them off to a Healer by now, but she was neither his student, nor he her Headmaster, and he clearly wanted answers.

"Sir," she said, deciding now was as good a time as any to try to explain their circumstances. "There really is a good reason for all of this." She winced again as Severus pulled a scrap of material from one of the wounds on her back. "You see, something was stolen from me, and Professor Snape and Mr. Lupin were helping me get it back. We had tracked it down to a particular store, but it was closed by the time we arrived. I, erm. I wanted to take a look, just to confirm, you see, and Professor Snape tried to deter me, but I insisted. I accidentally tripped the alarm..."

Severus took over the story from there, cutting her off. "They locked us together, knowing that Lupin would change tonight, intending to rid themselves of the lot of us. They are protecting a ring of thieves and distributors of stolen goods. Lupin can give you names and places."

"That is good news." The old wizard stroked his long beard and gave Hermione, who was desperately trying not to fidget, an appraising stare. "And I see that you are in want of medical attention, Miss..."

"Greenglass," Hermione supplied, carefully not making eye contact. Severus' breath on the back of her neck was raising a rash of gooseflesh across her shoulders and down her arms, and she wasn't sure if it was his fingers on her bare skin or the adrenaline leeching from her blood that was turning her knees to jelly. "Professor Snape does, as well."

"Of course," he agreed urbanely. "And poor Mr. Lupin and these Aurors. Though I suspect they will be faced with a change of occupation." His eyes finally regained their familiar twinkle. It broke something deep inside of Hermione, and tiny hysterical bubbles rose from the pit of her stomach to pop in her throat, releasing giggles that even she did not recognize. Severus slanted her an odd look, but what had been single bubbles was now an effervescent expulsion of tension and panic, and what had been giggles were now great belly laughs, loud and raucous. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she clutched her stomach, leaning against Severus for support. She couldn't have said what was so funny; it was ridiculous, her laughter, and that made her laugh until she wheezed. Abandoning her back, Severus wrapped an arm around her shoulders and curled her into his chest as if to hide her imminent breakdown from Dumbledore. And breaking down she was: her laughter dissolved into sobs, and she twisted her fingers into his velvet jacket, uncaring that several of his many buttons were denting her forehead and cheeks. Who could care about such trivial things when the world as she knew it had survived by such a monumental coincidence as Albus Dumbledore showing up at the nick of time?

As if following her train of thought, Severus asked Dumbledore over the top of her head, "How did you know to come, Headmaster?"

"It is as I said: you missed a staff meeting yesterday morning. You didn't answer your Floo or urgent post, either." He sent a stern look over the rim of half-moon spectacles at the young man before him, and then his face softened, becoming thoughtful. "And then this evening I had the most startling notion...

"What is it that was stolen from Miss Greenglass, Severus?"

The abrupt change of subject almost put him off guard, but he recovered quickly. "Merely a family heirloom."

"I see," said the old wizard. Severus had the uncomfortable feeling that he probably did – straight through him. "I suppose we should get Miss Greenglass to a Healer to assess her condition. The moon is still full tonight."

"What about Lupin? We cannot simply leave him here," he said, surprising himself. It seemed that he managed to surprise Dumbledore, as well, for he found himself the recipient of a long, searching stare.

"I will worry about poor Mr. Lupin, my boy. See to your friend."

Severus took a sip of scalding tea and relished its aromatic burn across his tongue. With the fingers of his other hand, he scratched behind the ears of a fluffy, orange cat with a squashed face and bottlebrush tail. She would leave a mess of orange cat hair on his black robes, but he was much too contented to shove the cat away, sprawled as he was in one of Madam Beetlebump's iron garden chairs. It was a foreign feeling, contentment, and it had crept up on him as the warm, late summer sun soaked into his robes, and Heidi's warmer smile caressed his soul. She wasn't a werewolf, and though he wouldn't have thought less of her had she been infected, he was mightily glad. His nose had been set straight. It had seemed silly to him that he had been afraid that it would be crooked, considering its ugliness before it had been broken, but there it was: another thing for which he was glad.

All charges of robbery against them had been dropped, and a large-scale bust of a ring of thieves and stolen goods distributors, not to mention several crooked Aurors, had earned the three of them Orders of Merlin, third class. Heidi had tried to decline, and the Ministry had attempted to exclude Lupin, but Dumbledore would hear none of it. All three of them had received their medals in the Minister's office from the Minister, himself, followed by a handshake from the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He was immensely pleased with himself, even if he had to share the honor with Lupin.

He had spent the last week in semi-productive leisure. Heidi had accompanied him on several errands both in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, some in preparation for the school year and some (he wasn't ashamed to admit, but only to himself) completely contrived. His Plan was always simmering at the back of his mind, but it was on a low flame and was easy to leave off for later when there were streets to stroll, tea to sip, or quiet park benches on which to sit. Not even the looming start of term could put much of a dent in his equanimity when he imagined peaceful weekends spent with Heidi.

And to top it all off, Dumbledore had begun to treat him with a newfound gentleness and respect. He didn't understand what had precipitated the change, and the suspicious, untrusting side of his nature wanted to analyze it until he found Dumbledore's true motives, but he wasn't going to complain.

The only true dark cloud on the moment was the werewolf sitting to his left, pale and haggard after his confinement during the full moon, although his dislike for the man was more habit than anything of substance. He attributed the lessening of hostility to the bit of comeuppance that the werewolf had received at his own hands and the fact that he was now reticent towards Heidi, maintaining a careful distance and treating her as if his very presence would somehow break her, and left it at that.

"I have already said that I would," Severus said irritably to yet another of Lupin's protests, setting his teacup carefully in its saucer. "There are few enough entertainments during the school year that brewing Wolfsbane will be a diversion."

Heidi beamed at him, and he nibbled a biscuit to disguise his own smile. Lupin mumbled his thanks into his tea, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the tabletop.

"I daresay it will be a relief to Heidi that you won't be about menacing the locals," he couldn't help but add, smirking at the lady of topic when she kicked his shin.

"What Severus means is that I'll be happy that you'll have some control over it; some peace of mind," Hermione said gently to the fringe of brown hair that was hiding most of Lupin's face.

He looked like he was more inclined to believe Severus' words, but he nodded anyway. "Your, um. The scratches. Are they healing well?" he finally asked haltingly.

"They're healing fine, Remus. I'll suffer no ill effects." She was lying, Severus knew. Though her wounds had not put her in danger of contracting lycanthropy, they had resisted healing and would most definitely scar. When the Healer at St. Mungo's had broken this news to them, she had simply shrugged and named them the most recent of many. He'd wanted to kiss her.

An awkward silence fell over the group, disturbed only by the soft susurrus of the wind through the trees, lazy birdcalls and the quiet muttering of Madam Beetlebump to her cats as she puttered along the garden path.

"What are you going to do now?" Heidi finally asked, spinning her teacup slowly in place in its saucer. Severus thought that she probably felt guilty for losing Lupin his job, even if she hadn't approved of him running stolen merchandise.

Raising his head, Lupin met her eyes briefly and then glanced away to stare at the garden fence. "The Headmaster is looking into it. He said that his brother might need help at his inn."

She nodded, looking pleased. "Madam will need help soon, too. I won't be staying here much longer. Perhaps..." Both Heidi and Lupin jumped and snapped their heads toward Severus. He fumbled with the teacup that he had just upset, mopping at the puddle of tea that was rapidly seeping into the cracks between the tiles and spreading toward the table's edge. The cat on his lap flattened her ears and glared up at him, digging her claws into his thighs against his sudden flurry of movement. Whisking her serviette from her lap, Heidi sopped up the last of the tea and, retrieving his soggy serviette, dropped them both in a pile on the tea tray. Severus tried to keep his face neutral as his contentment leaked out of him as if he had sprung a gasket in the pit of his stomach. He quickly realized that he was fooling no one, for Heidi was giving him a miserable look, and Lupin stood suddenly, almost spilling his own tea in the process.

"I had better get going," he said as they stood with him, Severus brushing the cat off his lap impatiently. "Thank you so much for the tea." He nodded to both of them, shooting Severus a sympathetic glance that he met with a sneer, and then nodded to Madam's rounded posterior, which was swaying in the midst of a patch of lavender. "Madam," he said respectfully and hurried out the garden gate.

Severus stared at the top of the table, his gaze wandering absently over the mosaic design. It was a cat, of course: a sleek, exotic breed with a fawn colored body and dark points, and it held mysticism in its slitted, blue eyes. Almost unmoving, it sat regally on a golden tufted cushion and regarded him with an air of haughty derision. After all, he had just spilt tea on it.

"I shall be going, as well," he said, still staring at the tabletop. She was leaving soon. The knowledge was a hot blade in his gut, lancing out that last bit of happiness that might have tarried. He should have known not to get too comfortable with her. How could he have forgotten, even for a moment, her assumed identity that she refused to discard? Her mysterious ability to disappear as if she had never existed? She would leave, and she wouldn't be coming back.

He was a fool.

"Severus..."

"I have a staff meeting to attend," he snapped, cutting her off. He did have one, more's the pity. How he was going to sit through one of those exercises in tedium with his heart bleeding out was beyond him. He would manage; he always did, but not with anything that resembled good grace.

"Severus, don't be like this. You must have known." He spared her a glance and was met with her entreating brown eyes.

Immediately on the defensive, he drew himself up and stared her down, twisting his face into a mask of bored indifference. "Don't flatter yourself. Whether you come or go has little bearing on me. In fact, I look forward to that happy day when you no longer darken my door."

Her eyes widened and began to shimmer with moisture. Briefly, her lips, shining with a tinted gloss that she favored, pursed together, and he found his gaze drawn hungrily to them. Her hurt was a palpable thing, and he forced himself to relish it; that had been his intent, after all, to hurt her as she was hurting him. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, then. I've appreciated your help and... if you'll still let me, I want to help with your project."

"Indeed," he said coldly, crossing his arms over his chest in a futile attempt to trap the residual warmth of the summer in his body. "We must pay our debts, mustn't we?"

"Don't twist my words around!" she hissed at him and stepped close to him, leaning forward with her hands planted on her hips. "I don't want to go; I don't have a choice."

"Ah, but everyone has a choice," he said at his most silky. 'And I'm not hers,' he added silently, though from the gathering pools of liquid on her bottom lashes, he suspected that she had somehow understood it. Suddenly, like a punch to his gut, he was struck with a thought: there was someone else.

"It's complicated," she whispered.

Her words seemed to confirm his suspicion. Of course there was: a witch like her would be bound to have a wizard of her own. He had been an idiot to hope, to dream... and yet, she cared for him. He could read it in her eyes, taste it on her words. Just not enough.

Steeling his will, he distanced himself, stepping away from her and locking down the pathetic flights of fancy that had centered on this woman for too long. He had allowed himself to become distracted, had lost sight of his goal.

"You will bring the Starglass to Spinner's End in three day's time. That is all of your... help... that I require," he sneered. No more afternoon teas, no more strolls through Hogsmeade. He would purge himself of his regard for her and begin preparations. He had almost everything he needed except the Starglass, and she would deliver it to him. Without waiting for her agreement, he swept past her and left through the garden gate.

Hermione sniffled and blinked away the tears that were threatening to fall. Gathering the tea things mechanically, she said to the cat, which was lapping at a small puddle of tea that had escaped the table to dribble onto the ground, "Please tell Madam that I'll be gone for a couple of days. There is something at home that I need to take care of."

The cat gave her an arch look and returned to the tea. Sighing, she carried the service into the kitchen and made short work of the washing up. Once all of the dishes had been dried and put away, she trudged up the narrow staircase to her room to retrieve the Starglass. Severus' meeting had given her the perfect opportunity to make a trip home without him aware that she was using his well.

For the past several days since their near-disastrous imprisonment, she had felt a rising urge to go home to the present and verify that all was well... or not. She had changed things; she knew it. Never, in all of her years attending Hogwarts, chatting with members of the Order of the Phoenix, or researching the life of Severus Snape for A.A.S.S., had she ever learned that Snape had earned an Order of Merlin in his twenties. It may have been a factor of not asking the right questions, but she doubted it. The information would have been unearthed before now, had it existed. She was terrified, at a primal level, of what her world might have become. Would she, possibly having a different set of memories than the rest of the population, even have a place in it anymore?

And then there was Ron. She had assumed that they would get married eventually. Have a child or two. But now she was wondering if that was the best thing for her. If she loved Ron, then how could she want Severus? Did she still love Ron romantically? Would it be fair to Ron to tie him to her when her attention strayed so easily to another man? Not that she had done anything, per se, but her heart had cheated in a thousand tiny ways. Would it be fair to herself to continue with a relationship to which she obviously wasn't committed and wasn't even sure that she wanted? What if... what if she had already married Ron in this new future? The idea filled her with dread, and she trembled at the thought of so many possibilities, of not knowing into what she would be throwing herself.

So, she had dawdled in the past with Severus, spinning borrowed time into a succession of pleasant moments that she had wished would never end. Closing her eyes against reality, she had pretended that his life stretched long and happily before him and that she had a place in it, all the while trying to convince herself that to kiss him now would certainly be considered cheating, even if the kiss were to take place almost twenty years before her relationship with Ron.

It was time to face the music. She didn't belong here. Ron or no Ron, she couldn't have a relationship with Severus because he was dead. The only thing to do was to be true to herself and face her fears. She had a few days before she had to return to deliver the Starglass into Severus' hands. It would give her time to assess the damage she had caused and analyze her heart.

Hopefully, Severus would have cooled off in the intervening three days and gotten over this latest snit so that she could enjoy the last precious minutes she had with him. She didn't, for an instant, believe that his behavior had been anything other than that of a wounded animal striking out at the closest thing in reach. He couldn't have expected her to stay indefinitely. Just the same, she could have handled that much better; had intended to, in fact. The news of her immanent departure had just... slipped out. She didn't blame him for being angry.

A quick search under her pillow revealed the Starglass. The crystal phial sparkled cheerfully in the bright, summer sunlight streaming in through her window. Fine and pale, the dust at the bottom shifted with gravity as she held it to the light and watched as rainbows danced across the hardwood floor.

It had been in his jacket during their imprisonment. She thought it funny now, but they certainly could have used its help at the time. As she had done many times since that day, she pulled the memory of him lying in the cell, a large spot on his chest glowing with a muted white light. Perhaps, it had helped them by bringing Dumbledore, somehow. Severus couldn't explain it, and since she hadn't been in his head when the glowing had occurred, neither could she.

It had taken them almost an hour to find the hidden pocket in which he had stashed it. Heavily ensorcelled, the jacket hadn't given up its secret easily. Only after threatening to tear out its lining did Severus finally find the tiny compartment behind one of the more used pockets.

Clutching the little bottle in her hand, she fixed Severus' well firmly in mind, gathering her determination. It was time to go home.

A/N: No cliffhanger this week! Aren't I a good girl? No? Ah well...