Chapter 1
Artwork by @belsamandblueberry
"You say I killed you—haunt me then! Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!"
-Wuthering Heights
***
Hermione shouldn’t have touched the Time-Turner, but old Gryffindor habits die hard. When she wandered into the Restricted Section after her classes were done for the day and she had no more students pestering her, she was just looking for a book on Experimental Ancient Runes, she knew there were Muggles who had dabbled in such things throughout history and she thought it would be a fascinating element to add to her Muggle Studies curriculum.
The book on Experimental Time Travel caught her eye instead.
The spine was worn, the pages yellowing from age.
Hermione was always reckless when it came to mysterious books. Especially books that almost looked like they were screaming for you to put them down and run away.
When she opened the book there was nothing but blank pages. She began to flip through them in utter confusion; the book was so thick, surely every page couldn’t be blank? But then the book hollowed out. It wasn’t really a book at all, the pages were just the perfect hiding place for the item that lay inside.
The Time-Turner.
She stared at it in wonder. Hermione hadn’t seen a Time-Turner in years. Her fingers hovered over the old tool, just itching to touch it. In the back of her mind she was trying to remind herself that there was probably a very good reason that this Time-Turner was hidden away in a hollowed out book in the Restricted Section and not at the Ministry, or literally anywhere else.
But her cat-like curiosity won out.
Hermione took the Time-Turner out of the false book. It vibrated in her palm, the sensation so startling she dropped the book to the floor with an echoing thud. She glanced around to see if anyone had heard her; as a professor she was allowed in this section of the library but she suspected neither she nor anyone other than whoever had hidden this mysterious Time-Turner was meant to be touching it.
She began to examine the odd gadget in her hand, holding it up to the dim light, trying to make sense of what could possibly warrant it being hidden away. But in doing so, she accidentally shifted one of the pieces. On a normal Time-Turner she would’ve had to do much more than just tap it on accident to activate its magic. Otherwise the owners of Time-Turners would be falling throughout time to and fro. But there was something dangerously curious about this magical gadget, and so by simply accidentally brushing her thumb against one of the gears on the side, the Time-Turner sparked to life. It rose from her hand, levitating in the air before her, emanating a bright gold light.
Hermione stepped back, feeling an overwhelming sense of awe and dread at what she was watching. “It’s not a Time-Tuner,” she whispered.
She was wrong, it was indeed a Time-Turner, just not the kind any witch or wizard should ever tamper with. That is why, of course, it was hidden inside a very large, false book.
The light from the mysterious object burst so bright Hermione had to shield her eyes. The floor began to vibrate from the power of the gadget and then the shaking was so intense it knocked her legs out from under her. She crashed to the library floor, out of breath, heart racing. She felt a compressed change in the air and a pounding in her head.
And then everything was quiet.
Hermione looked up to see the Time-Turner laying on the floor in front of her. She started to reach for it, but then snatched her hand back. Thinking better of it. She looked to her side where she had dropped the book.
It was gone.
Hermione stood up slowly, using the bookcase for support. She began to turn around to see if she had somehow knocked the book behind her, or if maybe the vibrations had slid it further across the floor.
What she saw when she turned around though was much more startling.
Hermione spun around in the alcove of Experimental texts right as Professor Severus Snape was rounding the corner. They locked eyes and Hermione thought she might faint.
Because Severus Snape had been dead for five years.
What was even more disconcerting to Hermione was the fact that Snape’s ghost looked surprised to see her. Surely if he had been haunting the castle he knew she was a professor at Hogwarts and had been since she was twenty-one.
She had never heard of a ghost haunting a place after they had already moved on. Perhaps he had been haunting in secret? He hadn’t of course. But Hermione didn’t know that yet.
“Professor Snape?”
Snape studied her, tilting his head in that peculiar way he always had. “Miss Granger?” His voice was soft, and almost timid.
“Professor Granger,” Hemione corrected, starting to truly feel unmoored. If Snape’s ghost had been haunting Hogwarts surely he would know she worked there, and would use her proper title, even if he’d held rather strong disdain for her when he had been alive.
Snape shook his head, pure confusion melting across his eyes.
“I don’t understand,” he whispered. “How are you here?”
“Me? How are you here?”
“I—Miss—” Hermione glared at him. “I work here, which if you actually did you would know.”
“Do you…” her voice trailed off, scarcely daring to believe the insanity present before her.
“Do I what?”
“Do you not know that you’re dead?”
“I—” his timid look changed to one of pure bewilderment. “Miss Granger, you are the one who’s dead. You died during The Battle of Hogwarts five years ago.”
“No,” Hermione whispered, taking a small step away from the man she thought to be an apparition. “You did. Voldemort killed you. I watched you die. Harry and Ron did too. You—” she took a shaky breath, her hand going to her chest as if to confirm that her heart was in fact still beating. “You gave Harry your tears and told him to take them to the pensieve. That’s how we learned the truth.”
“The truth?” Snape’s voice was like a specter in the air, it had become so quiet and unsettling. “About…”
“Everything.” Hermione glanced back to where the Time-Turner lay on the floor in the back of the alcove. Snape followed her line of sight. Hermione whipped her head back around when she heard her former professor inhale sharply.
“Where did you get that?” he asked.
“A book on Experimental Time Travel. It was hidden inside.”
Snape’s horrified expression morphed into one of anger. He took a step closer to her and Hermione backed up on instinct. “And did it ever occur to you, Miss Granger, that it was hidden for a reason?”
“Professor Granger. And yes, I did.”
“But you used it anyway?”
“I know how to use a Time-Turner. I didn’t use it. I barely touched it and then—” she glanced at it once more. “And then I saw you.”
“If that’s what I think it is,” Snape said, “then you have not traveled back in time. You have fallen through it.”
Hermione shook her head slightly. “What?”
“You have traveled here from a different timeline. One where you survived and I did not.”
Hermione felt unsuspecting tears form behind her eyes at the sound of his words. “And in this one…you survived and I didn’t?”
“That is correct.”
“Well…that is less than ideal.”
The two professors from different times just stared at each other in silence for several moments. Hermione felt dizzy and sick to her stomach as the severity of her situation began to settle in over her like the worst kind of blanket. She stumbled back and rested a hand against a shelf to keep from collapsing in panic.
“I need…a moment…”
Snape sighed in irritation. He pulled his wand from his robe and used it to levitate the Time-Turner into his pocket. He stashed his wand back in the flowing layers of his robes and set his sights back on Hermione. “Come with me.” He turned on his heel and stormed off through the library, his robes fluttering behind him like a storm.
Hermione stayed where she was for a moment and then decided that sadly the best course of action was to follow a man that she hadn’t been very fond of while he was alive, and after only spending a few minutes with him she could tell that this alternate timeline version of Severus Snape was just as prickly and unpleasant as the dead one from her own time.
Hermione had to jog for a bit to catch up with Snape, and even then she had to walk briskly to keep up with his long strides. He, of course, did not take her short stature and therefore short legs into consideration. He simply marched on. After many turns and staircases deep into the depths of the castle, Hermione found herself in the familiar wing where the professors’ lodgings were located. She wondered who was the Muggle Studies professor in this timeline. Hermione looked longingly at the door to the room that was hers. She knew she couldn’t enter; that room belonged to someone else here in this time. In this time Hermione Granger was nothing more than a memory.
Snape rounded another corner until he reached the last door. He waved his wand to unlock it and then stepped back to hold the door open for Hermione. She hesitated a moment. Hermione had tried to avoid Snape as much as possible during her school days, and while they were on a level playing field now, both professors just from different versions of time, she was still a bit anxious about the idea of closing herself in a room with a former Death Eater.
Snape tilted his head to the side again, studying her. When he realized the reason behind her hesitation he sighed in frustration once more. Hermione was quickly coming to loathe the sound.
“I am not going to kill you, Miss Granger.”
“Professor Granger.”
Snape’s mouth twitched as Hermione watched him fight the urge to snap at her. She knew he didn’t want to draw attention to this situation, otherwise he would have alerted whoever the Headmaster was. She was just grateful at least that he wasn’t the Headmaster anymore, if he ever had been in this timeline.
“Just go inside,” he said. “We cannot discuss this out here.” Hermione reluctantly did as he said. Snape closed the door behind them, locking it softly.
Hermione took in her surroundings. There was a small living space with a kitchen area, a black velvet sofa with a green throw blanket draped across it. The kitchen counter was covered with potions materials and open books. There was a writing desk in the corner, an ornate tapestry on the far wall, and a closed door that must’ve led to his bedroom.
“Are you still the Potions professor?”
Snape walked around to stand in front of her. He raised an eyebrow in question. “Still?”
“Oh.” Hermione bit her bottom lip in contemplation. She wondered how many details had gone differently in this version of reality. “You became our DADA professor in my 6th year.” She noticed Snape’s gaze flare at this piece of information. “And then you…” Hermione stopped herself, not wanting to have to think about what should have been her 7th year of school.
“Then I what?” Snape insisted, in that infuriatingly slow, drawn out way of speaking he was fond of utilizing.
Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She had gotten rather good at repressing and compartmentalizing everything from her adolescence but this entire ordeal was not exactly something her healer had prepared her for in regards to trauma therapy.
When Hermione opened her eyes Snape was still staring at her. The flare in his eyes now an outright blaze.
“Then after you murdered Dumbledore you became Headmaster. Then Voldemort killed you. Well, he used Nagini. Now McGonagall is Headmistress.”
Hermione saw a pained look flicker across his eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it had arrived. “Who is the Potions professor now?”
“It was Slughorn. But after the war ended he retired. Now it’s—”
“Slughorn?”
Hermione looked at Snape, registering the disgust on his face. “Yes,” she answered. “He was rather good. Harry was his best student.”
“Potter?”
“Only because he had help from some old textbook with notes inside the margins.” Hermione paused and waited for Snape to figure it out. The blaze in his eyes was wild enough to decimate cities.
“I see.” He spoke the words like a curse.
“Now it’s Fleur Delacour-Weasley.”
Hermione had to fight the urge to laugh at the rage in Snape’s eyes at the news that a member of the Weasley family had taken over a post he had held for years.
“You don’t need to be so enraged. That Professor Snape is dead, so clearly you’re the luckier of the two.”
Snape glared at her, Hermione wasn’t deterred. Her timeline’s Snape had glared at her during Potions class more times than she could count.
“Yes,” he said, hissing on the S like a snake. “Just as you’re the luckier Hermione.”
“Yes. And I would like to return to the time where I am alive and a former Death Eater is not employed at my school, so either help me or—”
“Or what, Miss Granger? You’ll solve this problem yourself?
Hermione clenched her jaw, swallowing back several colorful phrases that were poised on the tip of her tongue.
“Well, the Professor Snape I knew always felt the need to tell me what an insufferable know-it-all I am. So, yes, I think I can handle this on my own. I don’t know about the Hermione Granger here, but I managed to achieve quite a lot. And I intend to return to the time where I’m appreciated, not stand here arguing with a dead man.”
Hermione turned on her heel to go but Snape reached out and caught her elbow. Hermione’s curls flared through the air as she whipped her head around to shoot him a withering glare. “Let go.”
“You cannot waltz around the castle. You are dead here. We don’t know how the fabric of time could be disrupted by another version of yourself galavanting about.”
“I’m not going to galavant anywhere. I’m going to find a fireplace so I can—”
“Floo Potter and Weasley? Yes, I’m sure they will love having to grieve for you twice.”
“They don’t—”
“You are not listening to me. In this time Hermione Granger died a hero’s death. She is a part of the Fallen Fifty. I saw those boys weep over your body. It is common knowledge the two of them were never the same. If you go and contact them you will only be bringing them happiness just to destroy it all over again. So unless you plan to make this timeline your home I suggest you limit the number of people who know you are currently in it.”
Hermione tugged slightly on his hold but he refused to release his grip. “Then what would youhave me do?”
Snape tugged on her arm, causing her to stumble a few steps closer to him. “I would accept the help you’re being offered without complaining.”
“Are you going to help me?”
“Why else would I have brought you here? You’re supposed to be bright, Miss Granger.”
“If you don’t address me properly I’m going to slap you,” Hermione said, practically seething. “I don’t care if the Hermione you knew died at eighteen. I’m a Professor at Hogwarts and I will not be talked down to by someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” Snape’s voice dripped with venom.
“Is this timeline so different that you mean to tell me you weren’t a Death Eater? You didn’t play a part in the misery of the Wizarding World? You didn’t behave as an overall abominable excuse for a teacher because you couldn’t have the life you really wanted?”
“Petulant as ever, I see, Miss Granger.”
Hermione slapped him. The sound echoed throughout the sparse room. It wasn’t a brutal hit, but it was enough to startle Snape into releasing Hermione’s arm. She stepped back until she hit the door. But she didn’t open it. As much as she hated him, Hermione knew he was right. She couldn’t risk anyone knowing she was here.
But that didn’t mean she had to endure the vitriol of her former teacher.
She bit her lip again, this time to hide her pleased smirk, as she watched Snape raise a hand to his reddening cheek and straighten back up to face her.
“Are you quite finished?”
Hermione shrugged. “If you are.”
“Didn’t you grow up to be charming,” he scoffed.
“Well, you still seem angry and distasteful, a small comfort to know some things never change.”
Snape sneered at her and this time Hermione failed to hide her smirk. The sight of it caused Snape to roll his eyes. “Don’t make me prefer you dead.”
“Help me return to my time and it will be like I am.”
“You are. Here, at least.”
“How cruel,” she said, “that in this world I died young and you get to live to old age.”
“I am not so old.”
“Twenty years my senior.”
Snape huffed a laugh and walked over to his countertop of cluttered books. “You are not a child and I am not some evil old man here to be the end of you. The war is long over in both our times. Put it behind you.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
Snape rested his hands on the counter. He leaned against it and set his blazing eyes back on Hermione. “I have not seen Hermione Granger for five years. I do not need to like someone to believe their death was unjust.”
Hermione let her head rest back against the door as she took in the sight of him. He seemed exactly the same as the last time she saw him; before the end, that is. It had been an ugly, horrifying sight to watch him die. He had been a wicked man, a horrid teacher, and an all around unpleasant individual. But Hermione, much like Harry, found the way he died to be something hard to come to terms with once they knew the secrets and tormets Dumbledore had subjected him to. She did not possess forgiveness for him and all that he had done, but she was not so cold that she couldn’t find any empathy inside herself. In a kinder world Severus Snape might have been a good man. He had all the makings of a brilliant wizard.
“I can see your know-it-all brain is running wild over there, Miss Granger.”
Hermione clenched her jaw again at the overwhelming desire to correct him; to insist he address her properly. But she wanted to go home and arguing with Snape wasn’t going to get her there any sooner.
“So it’s been five years here too,” she said instead. “Time is moving parallel across the timelines. Much like string theory, or the theory of the multiverse.”
Snape’s brow twitched slightly at how quickly Hermione had shifted into her studious self and out of their verbal sparring. Surprisingly to Hermione, Snape appeared comfortable walking away from their stalemate.
“Yes,” he said. “It would appear that those muggle-based scientific theories apply to the magical situation we have found ourselves in.”
Snape took out his wand again and used it to remove the device from his pocket. The ominous Time-Turner hovered in the air between them, practically begging to be fiddled with. Like a siren luring unsuspecting witches and wizards to tamper with time.
Hermione walked over to stand on the opposite side of the counter, looking more closely at the Time-Turner. It hadn’t been turned or spun at all, it was exactly how she had found it.
“Why do you think the Time-Turner operated without being activated?” she asked.
“Since this particular Time-Turner is meant to send one across time instead of backwards or forwards, it would seem that its properties are more similar to that of a portkey.”
“So just by holding it, it’s activated?”
“That’s one theory, yes.”
“So would holding it again send me back?”
“It might,” Snape dropped his eyes from the hovering device to look at Hermione again. “Or it might send you into yet another parallel time, and that one may not be as…pleasant.”
“You mean one where Voldemort won.”
“Yes.”
“Right,” Hermione said, her voice growing softer. Snape spoke as slowly and sparingly here as he had back in her time, but his words were still just as stinging as they had felt in her school years. “Well then, perhaps a portal. I was originally in the library to get texts on Ancient Runes in a historical context to muggle practices and religions. Perhaps there’s something there about—”
“Yes,” Snape said again, the word spoken sharply through his teeth. “That’s a good start.”
“Alright,” Hermione turned for the door. “Then let’s go back and see if—”
“We cannot.” Hermione stopped and looked back at him in confusion. “It is late, Miss Granger. Filch and Peeves alike will be out patrolling the halls. If they see you—”
“Then you go.”
Snape stared at her and Hermione suddenly felt pinned beneath his gaze. Had his eyes always been so intense? She had spent many years avoiding his eye contact, finding the verbal abuses of the Potions Master to be too embarrassing to endure in addition to the smug look he would wear after admonishing a student (usually her) in front of the class.
“Very well,” he said at last.
Snape strode past her and out the door.
Hermione stood still in the silence of the chamber for a few moments. Then she shivered. She realized it wasn’t fear causing her bones to rattle beneath her skin. There was a draft in the room. Hermione looked around, perplexed as to where it could be coming from.
Then her eyes settled on the tapestry.
Of course.
She pushed it aside to reveal a hidden passageway.
Half an hour later Snape returned to his chamber with several texts that he thought might be of use, but Hermione Granger was gone.