Chapter 3
“I don’t see any of the salve missing from the cauldron.”
Hermione stirred sugar into her tea, keeping her eyes glued to the sight of the liquid swirling in her cup as she heard Snape enter the room and come to stand beside her by the counter.
“That’s because I didn’t use any.”
“Why not?” he snapped.
Hermione refused to look at what she was sure was a furious glare and waltzed over to the sofa to drink her tea in peace.
“Miss Granger.”
“What?” She finally looked up, taking a slow sip of tea.
“Answer me.”
“I told you not to give me false hope.”
Snape sighed. “It will work.”
“No, it won’t. And if it’s anything like the countless remedies I’ve tried before, it will hurt.”
Snape walked around the counter and leaned against it, facing her. “It will only hurt for a moment.”
“Liar.”
“I do not lie about these kinds of things.”
“These kinds of things?”
“My potions, Miss Granger.”
“Alright. I believe you’re not lying but I still don’t want to take it. Trying to heal is exhausting and I’ve grown tired of it. You don’t need to waste your time on this. If you really want to help me, help me get home and then you never have to endure my presence again.”
Snape closed his eyes and sighed again, in more obvious agitation. Hermione sipped more tea.
“I am not enduring your presence, Miss Granger.”
Hermione laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re enjoying it.”
Snape opened his eyes, those overwhelming inky pools boring into her once more.
“I neither enjoy nor hate it. It is simply the current state of things.”
“Mmhm. Sure.”
“Are you going to accuse me of being a liar again? Name calling doesn’t suit you, Miss Granger.”
“I’m not putting on the salve, Severus. Please, just let it go.”
Hermione swore Snape’s eyes widened when she used his first name, but she did not do so out of sentimentality. She was just sick of being referred to as Miss Granger. She hoped that by calling him by his first name he would do the same with her.
“If I make you a remedy that won’t hurt at all will you use it?”
“It’s just a scar.”
“It pains you to even look at it.”
All traces of Hermione’s earlier smirks and laughter vanished with the sound of his words. She saw him register the change in her demeanor, but he didn’t say anything to try and calm her. She didn’t expect that he would.
After several minutes of horrible silence Hermione was shocked by the sight of Snape walking over to her and standing directly before her.
“Listen to me. I will not lie to you and say that I enjoyed your presence in my classroom in this timeline any more than I’m sure I did in yours. But I do not think you deserved to die. I do believe the world would be better off with you in it, regardless of any personal opinions I held. If there is a timeline out there where the brightest witch of her age is alive and well then I believe that to be a good thing. I have never subscribed to blood purity and I don’t believe any child deserves to be tortured. I want to heal your scar, Miss Granger, because it is the right thing to do, not because I pity you or care if you leave this timeline thinking any better of me. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Hermione whispered.
“Good. I’m going to Diagon Alley to get some other texts to try and help. If you’re going to run around in the forest please leave a note so I don’t assume you’ve been sucked into a dark dimension while I’m gone.”
“Okay.”
Hermione watched as Snape left. When the door clicked shut behind him she exhaled slowly.
Many people had called her the brightest witch of her age before.
Severus Snape had never been one of them.
* * *
Hermione was dozing on the sofa when Snape returned. She almost forgot where she was as she watched him set a bag down on the counter.
“I picked up dinner for you at The Leaky Cauldron.”
Hermione managed to sit up, blinking the sleep from her eyes. She watched as her former teacher pulled dinner from the bag and set it out for her. When he noticed her staring at him he sighed in frustration.
“What is it, Miss Granger?”
“Nothing.”
“What a convincing liar you are.”
“I’m just surprised you bought me dinner. There’s food in the castle. There’s food in this kitchen.”
Hermione watched as Snape’s jaw clenched, the way she was quickly realizing he did when she’d put him on edge.
“I was purchasing dinner for myself so I thought it would not be a great inconvenience to get some for you as well.”
Hermione bit back a smirk and nodded. “Thank you.”
Snape held her playful stare for a moment more, then nodded at the dish he’d set out for her. Hermione got up to accept his offering as he stormed across the room and settled in at his desk to begin grading essays.
“Professor,” Hermione asked, opening up the dish to reveal fish and chips.
“What?” Snape snapped without turning to look at her.
“Can I see the books you got?”
“Bottom of the bag.”
Hermione fished several tomes out of the bag and retreated back to the sofa to continue her research. She and Snape worked in a somewhat comfortable silence for a few hours from opposite sides of the room. Just when Hermione was about to give up on finding anything in the books that might help her she found an ancient ritual in the last chapter of the third tome.
“Yes!” Hermione jumped to her feet.
Snape turned around in his desk chair to face her. “I take it,” he said, dryly, “that you found a solution.”
Hermione ignored his bored tone as she scurried across the room to show him what she’d found. “Look!” She shoved the book into his hands. “We can do this on the Blood Moon. It shouldn’t be that difficult. There’s plenty of space in the forest to draw the runes and you can guide me in making the potions and—” Hermione noticed the way Snape’s brows were furrowed. “What is it?”
Snape looked up from the text to meet Hermione’s eyes. “The blood moon is three months away.”
Hermione felt her heart plummet down her ribcage and crash in the pit of her stomach.
“I take it by your expression that it is meant to come much sooner in your timeline.”
Hermione nodded, trying not to choke on the quickly forming lump in her throat. “I guess time isn’t moving completely parallel after all.”
“It would appear not.”
“Well…” Hermione glanced down at the book in his hands then back to his eyes. “There doesn’t seem to be any other way.”
Snape held her gaze, she couldn’t figure out what he was trying to convey through his stare. Whatever it was, it unsettled her immensely.
“Will you help me?”
“I already told you that I would.”
“Can I…” Hermione couldn’t bring herself to finish her question, she suddenly felt imposing and pathetic.
“You can stay here,” Snape said. “I’ve told you I don’t think it wise for anyone to know about your presence in this timeline. It could be unsafe for you and for others.”
“Is it not unsafe for you then?”
“My, Miss Granger, do you suddenly care about my safety?”
Hermione fought the instinctual urge to roll her eyes. “I did not have any intentions of endangering your life, Professor.”
To her utter surprise, Snape smirked. The sight was startling to say the least.
“That is good to know, Miss Granger. Now, it’s late. I would like to go to sleep and I would suggest you do as well.”
Hermione held her hand out for the book, Snape returned it without protest. Hermione hugged it to her chest, looking around nervously, noting the guest bathroom off to the side which did not possess any means of bathing herself.
“The restroom attached to my bedroom has a shower,” he answered her unspoken thoughts. “You may use it.”
Hermione’s mouth fell open for a moment. “Get out of my head, Professor.”
Snape smirked again but this time the sight enraged her. “Learn occlumency, Professor .”
Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise at him finally addressing her properly.
“I can’t. The only legilimens I know is dead.”
“You are hilarious. Would you like me to teach you while you’re here?”
“I do not want you in my head.”
His smirk returned and it took everything in Hermione not to huff in frustration.
“All the more reason to learn occlumency.”
“Why are you creating a to-do list for yourself,” Hermione snapped. “Is helping me do a complicated ritual to open a portal to a different timeline not enough of a challenge?”
“Potions and occlumency are not exactly taxing for me, Miss Granger.”
Hermione glared at him for the mis-address. She could tell he noticed her anger which only widened his snarky smirk.
“Go use the shower,” Snape said. “You can use a shirt of mine to sleep in if you would like. I don’t imagine sleeping in your teaching clothes is entirely comfortable.”
Hermione suddenly felt shaken by his comments. She knew that logically he was just offering her basic hospitality, but it still frazzled her nerves a bit to have Severus Snape make comments about lending her clothes after she used his shower.
“Alright, thank you. Can I transfigure some clothes into something I can wear while I’m here? So I don’t have to constantly wear the same blouse and trousers?”
“I suppose so. Or I could—” Snape stopped himself.
This time it was Hermione who smirked. She didn’t need to be a legilimens to know how that sentence was going to end.
“Thank you, Professor.”
Hermione walked past his desk and into his bedroom. The room contained a large four-poster bed that was dressed in green bedding, several cluttered and overflowing bookcases, a bureau, and a small fireplace. Hermione tried not to spend too much time soaking in the surroundings and made her way to the bathroom. She showered quickly, using a drying charm on her hair when she was done. She nervously went to the bureau and pulled out the first sleep shirt she found, it was a loose-fitting black cotton shirt that fit her like a short dress. She felt far too exposed but she told herself she was being ridiculous. She was just going to sleep on his couch, for Merlin’s sake!
Hermione exited his bedroom and made her way back over to the sofa. She curled up under the blanket and said nothing. She waited for the sound of Snape leaving but it never came.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked, from where he still sat at his desk.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Granger. Goodnight.”
She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally heard him leave.
It was going to be a long three months.