Chapter 9
The day before the Blood Moon Hermione woke up to see the other side of the bed was empty. She tugged on her sleep shirt and went to the main room to see Severus, still clad only in his pajama pants, hands braced against the counter, staring angrily at an undrunk cup of tea set before him. Hermione studied his furrowed brow as he watched his cup. He glared at it as if it held all the horrors of the world. Next to the teacup was the jar of Hermione’s salve he made for her every day. She glanced down at her left forearm where the mudblood scar was now nothing but faint lines. She traced one lightly, still surprised she had lived to see the day someone was able to heal it.
Severus had healed her.
More than just her arm.
“I know you’re there,” he said.
Hermione walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso, feeling his jagged scars beneath her fingers, resting her head against the smooth skin of his back. She inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent, trying to commit the sensation to memory; tea, dewy grass, and a little bit of cauldron smoke.
“Hermione.” His voice was low.
“Severus.”
“I have something for you.”
“The salve?” She pressed her lips to his spine.
“No.”
“The tea?” She smiled against his back.
“You’re hilarious.”
Severus turned around, spinning slowly in Hermione’s arms until he was able to look down at her. Hermione tightened her grip on him. He reached up and caressed her cheek, gently dragging the backs of his knuckles along the curve of her jaw.
“What is it?” she asked.
Severus reached behind him, across the counter to a small sachet bag that sat beside the teacup. He undid the strings, reached inside, and removed a ring. Hermione studied the ring curiously. It was bulky, with a wide gold band, and an ornate emerald stone in the middle. She leaned in, peering at the details she was able to make out the grooves of a snake and the tail end of the Slytherin house refrain.
“Based on your expression I can deduce that your timeline does not have Hogwarts class rings.”
Hermione looked from the ring back to Severus’s eyes.
“No. But I’ve heard of them. I don’t know of any magic schools that use them, not in the UK at least. Ilvermorny might. But lots of muggle schools and universities have them.” She unwrapped her arms from around him to gently hold his wrist in her hands, bringing the ring closer to examine. “It’s lovely though. Each house gets a different one in their colors and the animals?”
Severus nodded. “Yes.”
“I’ve never seen you wear it.”
“I don’t want to damage it brewing potions.”
Hermione lightly traced the tip of her pointer finger across the gemstone. “That makes sense.”
“I want you to have it, Hermione.”
Hermione’s eyes widened and met Severus’s once more.
“What?”
“Well, I can’t very well give you any…other kind of ring. I know it’s in Slytherin colors, and I know it’s not the most stylish piece of jewelry, but I had thought…well I had hoped that maybe you could—if you want—wear it and…think of me.”
Hermione moved her fingers from where they wrapped around his wrist so that she could hold her hand out for him. Severus stared down at her hand for a moment, fully registering that she was offering him her left hand. Hermione watched, enraptured, as he inhaled soft and sharp before sliding the ring onto her finger. To Hermione’s surprise it fit perfectly.
“I transfigured it,” Severus said, reading her mind.
Hermione absentmindedly touched her temple, mostly used to the soft, brief, ache that Severus’s legilimency caused. He took her hand, pulling it away from her temple and bringing it to his lips, planting a gentle kiss against her fingers.
“If I could see into your head,” Hermione started.
“You would see the same things I see in yours.”
Hermione moved her other hand, the one bearing his ring, and rested it against his cheek.
“Then why won’t you just say it?” Her voice was soft but the desperation was deafening.
He placed his hand on top of hers as he brought her other hand to press against his chest, over his heart. He said nothing, just stared at her. Hermione sighed softly. She knew without any mind reading abilities the answer to her own question.
***
Hermione was running through the woods away from the snatchers. She shot spell after silent combat spell over her shoulder as the ground seemed to tilt beneath her. She looked all around for Harry or Ron but she couldn’t seem to find either of them. It was as if they had vanished. The world began to spin around her, the ground suddenly horribly uneven. Hermione looked back and saw a snatcher advancing on her too fast. She turned to run but then the snatcher’s hand was knotted in her hair, tugging her back. Hermione screamed and thrashed but it was no use. She couldn’t get free.
“Hermione!”
Hermione opened her eyes and screamed again as the sky and the trees seemed to morph and melt around her. The snatcher was gone so she got to her feet and began to run but she crashed into the arms of Severus Snape.
“No!” Hermione flailed as he wrapped his arms around her. “Harry! Help! It’s—”
“Hermione, stop.”
“Let me go!”
Hermione heard the voice of the snatcher, the one who smelt her perfume months ago. She heard the cackles of Bellatrix and Voldemort. She heard her mother sobbing. Hermione screamed, tears flooding her eyes. For some reason Snape hugged her close, smoothing down her hair.
“Hermione, you’re having a nightmare. None of this is real. You’re not here. You’re with me. You’re safe. I swear you’re safe. Please wake up, dear. Please come back.”
Hermione sagged in his arms, his words swirling in her head, begging to make sense.
Hermione opened her eyes to see Severus looking down at her, one hand stroking her sweat-soaked hair, the other being used to prop himself up.
“Oh,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn't think I’d—”
Severus leaned down and kissed her, silencing her unneeded apology. Hermione whimpered in relief as she threw her arms around her neck and kissed him back. Severus rolled onto his side, pulling her in close, kissing away each salty tear, fighting like hell not to cry himself. The two lovers clung to each other with a timeless desperation only the truly tragic can ever know.
“I don’t want to go,” Hermione whispered against his chest. “I don’t want to leave you.”
Severus remained silent. He moved his fingers along her spine, tracing meaningless shapes against her skin, sending soothing shivers throughout her body.
“It’s not fair,” Hermione said.
“Life isn’t fair.”
“How brilliantly philosophical of you, Severus.”
He lightly tugged on her hair and she smiled.
“I agree with you, dear,” he said. “It’s not fair.”
Hermione tilted her head back to look up into his eyes, almost in disbelief to hear him agree with her so easily.
“You,” he cupped her face in his hand, combing the tips of his fingers through her curls, “have been the greatest joy of my life.”
Hermione was silent a moment more and then she was kissing him until the sun rose.
***
The blood moon sat high in the sky, its glow seeping through the treetops of the forbidden forest, staining everything beneath it. Hermione tilted her head back as she and Severus walked hand in hand deeper into the heart of the woods. She tried to count the stars through the foliage, second guessing that she’d calculated the placement of all the constellations correctly. If even one thing was miscalculated then the ritual wouldn’t work.
She wondered if that would be so terrible.
“You think awfully loud for someone who wants to keep her thoughts private.”
Hermione looked up at Severus to see he was almost smirking. He squeezed her hand as she leaned her head against his arm.
“You know you have to go. Your home is in another time.”
“I know,” Hermione whispered.
They reached the small clearing where they’d made a circle out of various mushrooms, crystals, and drizzled contents of several potent potions Severus had crafted. The air buzzed with their magic. All it would take now was the precise shine of the moon to hit the circle, a properly spoken incantation, and Hermione would be back home. In her time. Alone.
“When was the Blood Moon set to happen in your timeline?” Severus asked.
“The end of the week from the day I fell through here.”
“Then if our calculations are correct you will step through here to the Forbidden Forest just three days after you left.”
“What will I tell Minerva?”
“I suspect the truth will suffice.”
“You think she’ll believe me?”
“I’m sure she’s seen stranger things in every life, not just mine or yours. You’re Hermione Granger, not a raving mad woman. If you explain what happened in an even and collected manner, then yes I think she will believe you.”
“Alright.”
Hermione looked up at the sky again. There was less than fifteen minutes until it would be time to go. She moved to stand in front of Severus, facing him, hands resting flat on his chest.
“It’s absurd how much I care about you; how quickly these feelings came over me. It’s absolute madness for any version of Hermione Granger to fall for Severus Snape, but I did. I won’t regret this. Not one moment. But if after tonight when you get home you decide this will all hurt too much to remember or if you find yourself regretting me…then you can use that spell. I understand why you wanted to before and I’m telling you now that it’s okay to let me go from your memory if you need to.”
Severus held her gaze intensely as he reached into the depths of his robes and produced the crumpled piece of parchment. He unfolded it slowly so she could see for herself that it was indeed the memory spell. With his other hand he brandished his wand and gently tapped the paper.
“Incendio.”
The parchment burst into flames, startling Hermione. She leaned away from Severus as the rare piece of magic paperwork turned to ash in the air between them.
“Severus,” Hermione breathed. “You—”
“Want you.” He reached out and cupped the back of her head, pulling her mouth close to his. “Yesterday, today, tomorrow. Always.”
He kissed her fiercely, his mouth desperate for hers. Hermione parted her lips and let his tongue invade her; their teeth clashed as their hands tugged at each other’s clothes. Severus backed her up against a tree, Hermione’s fingers already reaching for the waistband of his trousers. Severus tugged at her skirt with one hand while the other moved to slide down her neck and across her chest. With a few more wanton gasps and shifts he was lined up between her legs, her panties pushed to the side to grant him entry. Severus hitched her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, and then he slid into her.
Hermione moaned softly, her mouth still latched to his, his tongue still dancing in hers. Her mind became one track, no other thoughts occupied it but the feeling of him against her; his hands, his body, his mouth, him.
“Severus,” she murmured against his lips.
“I love when you say my name, dear.”
“I love when you call me dear.”
“My dear, dear, dear, Hermione.”
He moved against her at a steady, maddening pace, and it took Hermione no time at all to reach the precipice. She cried out in euphoria as her orgasm took her over the edge, with Severus not far behind. As they came back down from the rush Severus began to lower her back to the ground, each of them adjusting their clothes back into place.
Then the moon shone down on their makeshift forest floor portal. The ground glowed, the magic buzzed louder than a swarm of bees.
Hermione looked up at Severus.
“It’s time, dear.”
Hermione began to cry. She didn’t try to hide it as the tears fell. She lurched forward, crashing into Severus’s arms. He wrapped her up in his embrace, keeping her close as he whispered the words that would bring the portal to life. Hermione joined him in the gentle chant, keeping her cheek pressed to the soft fabric of his robes, soaking in the soothing feel of his fingers running through her hair.
“Hermione, you must go now.”
Hermione pulled back and looked into his inky eyes for the last time.
“I love you,” she whispered. She waited for a moment, silently begging him to say it back.
He did not.
She exhaled softly, then turned and stepped into the circle. The air began to thrum against her skin and a wind picked up inside the space, whipping her hair wildly. The world around her began to spin and blur. She was almost gone.
And then—
“Wait!”
Hermione looked across the thickening barrier of the circle to see Severus standing as close as he could to the edge without disrupting the magic at work.
“I…I suppose if it’s my last chance…Hermione Granger, I—”
It was too late.
She was gone.